Early in the morning, after opening several video platforms and film-and-television media sites—
Articles about 'Cyberpunk: Edgerunners' were everywhere.
📰'Cyberpunk: Edgerunners' sticks the landing perfectly. As expected, another devastating masterpiece!
📰Depression-core screenwriter Su Yan strikes again—new fans and old fans alike stayed up all night.
📰The screenwriter who has made Xia Nation audiences cry the most in history—Su Yan refuses to change. 'Edgerunners' pushes the limits yet again.
📰The most god-tier drama of the year. The most tear-inducing drama of the year. 'Cyberpunk: Edgerunners' will undoubtedly sweep all major awards at this year's 'Xia Flame Awards'!
📰Su Yan's legend continues. What will the final episode's ratings be?
📰Last night, Su Yan's fans launched a mass "comment bombardment"—Zhongxia TV shut down comments on its official site!
📰The most romantic confession, the most romantic ending—Su Yan used the dream of "going to the moon" to compose two deeply moving love stories for Xia Nation audiences.
📰Although David dies, the spirit of cyberpunk lives on forever. Compared to 'Your Lie in April', 'Cyberpunk: Edgerunners' moved me even more!
📰If next week the finales of 'The Black Gate' and 'South Dreams' fail to achieve a miraculous ratings surge, this quarter's champion will be decisively claimed by 'Cyberpunk: Edgerunners'!
After 'Edgerunners' finished airing, the national film and TV market was filled with praise.
Fans might curse Su Yan because David, Rebecca, and other beloved characters died.
But critics wouldn't.
Unless they were paid to smear it, they wouldn't get angry just because characters were "cut down"—they would ask whether those deaths had meaning.
And clearly, David's death served the story's core theme.
From Episode 1, the series had already foreshadowed the ultimate fate of these cyberpunks.
David didn't break free from destiny's shackles—but he did help Lucy find a sliver of escape.
From that perspective, David's death mattered.
At noon, in the main lobby of Dimensional Pictures—
The core creative team of 'Cyberpunk: Edgerunners' gathered together.
They were waiting for the final results.
Not long after, a new message arrived on Su Yan's phone.
"5.65%."
After reading it, Su Yan smiled and looked at everyone present.
"'Edgerunners' ratings: 5.65%."
As soon as the words fell—
The entire room erupted in deafening cheers.
If not for Su Yan's slightly stern look, they might have hoisted him up and tossed him into the air.
"Boss is amazing!"
"Chairman is a beast!"
"Number-one screenwriter in Xia Nation!"
"5.65%! That pushes the five-year record set by 'Blazing Dawn' up by 0.13%!"
"In today's era, pulling 5.65% ratings is unbelievable!"
"This proves the audience never left—previous shows were just too formulaic to attract veteran viewers."
"Our company's second project already broke records. Insane!"
"Sakura TV won't be able to hold its head up in the industry for a long time!"
Shinozaki Ikumi's eyes were a little red. When she saw Su Yan look over, she smiled back.
When she and Su Yan left Sakura TV last year, she never imagined a day like this.
Now she felt a bit dazed, tears threatening to fall.
"Congratulations, Su Yan." Shinozaki Ikumi stepped forward.
She wore a red dress—clearly prepared in advance. After all, tonight was the 'Edgerunners' celebration banquet, and Su Yan had even invited well-known industry journalists.
With results like these, not showing off would be meaningless. Any move Su Yan made now would be rubbing salt into Akasaka Yoshitoki's wounds, undermining his authority as department head.
"Congratulations to us both," Su Yan said with a smile.
"This company belongs to both of us. The achievements belong to us together."
Warmth spread through Shinozaki Ikumi's heart. Though she was only a minor shareholder, Su Yan clearly treated her as an equal.
"Boss, when does the new project start?"
"Yeah, boss—'The Garden of Words' finished filming, we're all idle now!"
"Let's go again! Make Sakura TV and Hudu TV regret it. They rejected 'Edgerunners' back then—bet they're crying now!"
Compared to independently producing an S-tier drama, Zhongxia TV's decision to import 'Cyberpunk: Edgerunners' and then set a five-year ratings record—winning both the seasonal and annual crowns—was far more profitable.
Once a TV network has prestige, it has countless revenue channels. What 'Edgerunners' brought Zhongxia TV far exceeded the gains of owning an average S-tier show outright.
Most employees hope for fewer projects—but the staff at Dimensional Pictures were fired up.
Creating an industry-leading hit gave them a powerful sense of achievement. Vacation could wait.
"As for the new project…" Su Yan paused.
"It's coming. But tonight, let's celebrate first."
Shen Liqian, Shinozaki Ikumi, and Gu Qingyuan all looked at Su Yan.
At this point, Su Yan was the engine of Dimensional Pictures.
After 'Edgerunners', Xia Nation audiences would unquestionably trust any show he made.
Even a simple A-tier production would likely perform extremely well.
That momentum would last—until Su Yan's first flop.
That afternoon, the 5.65% finale rating spread across the entire Xia Nation TV industry.
Everyone expected an increase, but 5.65% was still shocking.
Though Su Yan was still being roasted by fans—Rebecca's fans especially couldn't accept Episode 10—
Ending with numbers like this was a total victory, cementing Su Yan's status in the industry.
Yes, some veteran writers once achieved even higher absolute ratings five or ten years ago.
But that was a different era—before online streaming siphoned viewers away.
Comparisons weren't straightforward.
Still, with 'Cyberpunk: Edgerunners' finished, Su Yan's name undeniably ranked among the very top screenwriters in Xia Nation.
That night, Su Yan drank a little too much at the celebration.
He also made plenty of unfriendly remarks about Akasaka Yoshitoki, and—right in front of reporters—repeatedly mentioned the upcoming release of 'The Garden of Words'.
The next day, multiple outlets reported on it.
At Sakura TV, Akasaka Yoshitoki sat in his office, staring at waves of negative headlines about himself.
He hurled his water cup across the room.
"Again, you, you despicable villain! You get a little success and start showing off! You left the station a year ago, and you're still digging up old dirt in front of reporters!"
No matter how good his self-control was, he snapped—smashing objects in his office to vent.
But it was all powerless rage.
In this industry, results speak. If your work loses, you have to take the hit.
If one day Sakura TV crushed Su Yan's show, Akasaka Yoshitoki could publicly call him a one-hit wonder—and Su Yan wouldn't be able to refute it.
That afternoon, Sakura TV's board convened.
Before the end of the workday, Akasaka Yoshitoki received a warning from the top.
They were deeply dissatisfied with his performance as head of production this year.
In a single year, Su Yan delivered two seasonal champions—and 'Cyberpunk: Edgerunners' might even win the annual crown.
And this person had left Sakura TV.
Worse—the reason was Akasaka Yoshitoki's suppression of a newcomer back when he was deputy head.
Is suppressing a junior writer a big deal? Of course not.
Every network has such cases. Even when Su Yan left, the board didn't blame Akasaka Yoshitoki—his twenty years of contributions outweighed a single newcomer.
But when that suppressed writer leaves and achieves this—stepping over Sakura TV's shows to rise—
The boomerang comes back.
If not for Akasaka Yoshitoki, Su Yan would still be at Sakura TV. The network would have gained a seasonal crown, perhaps an annual crown, and avoided becoming a national laughingstock.
Labeled as a "nepotism network."
"A graveyard for newcomers."
The damage to the brand was enormous.
Now, Akasaka Yoshitoki felt unsettled.
The board assigned him a task:
Sakura TV could not allow itself to be humiliated like this.
No matter what it took, he had to press Su Yan down.
The Xia Nation TV industry would not tolerate such unchecked arrogance.
Sakura TV could lose face—but it had to win it back.
This was why Akasaka Yoshitoki chose to produce 'The Black Gate' this quarter—confident it would show Su Yan the gap.
But now—
He was being forced into a corner.
The top demanded that he confront Su Yan head-on. No avoidance.
In any quarter where Su Yan's work aired, Sakura TV must not lose.
If he failed—
He would be gone.
The head of production position wasn't reserved for Akasaka Yoshitoki alone.
Two years ago, he never imagined that suppressing a newcomer would lead to a crisis like this.
Twenty years of struggle—now at risk.
"Su Yan… I will not let you destroy everything," Akasaka Yoshitoki muttered, taking a deep breath.
He likely had only one or two chances left.
When Su Yan's next big productions aired—that would be the decisive battle.
Win: fame and fortune.
Lose: get out.
—
Morning. Su Yan woke up in his large bed.
He recalled last night vaguely.
Though the night before was the official celebration, the excited Edgerunners team dragged him out again last night to drink.
"Alcohol really is terrible," Su Yan muttered, shaking his head.
He rarely drank—only at celebrations—and it always felt awful.
He glanced at the calendar by his bed.
June 13.
The spring season was ending; summer was coming.
But that had little to do with him.
No TV drama of his would air in July—only the late-July theatrical release of 'The Garden of Words'.
"Alright. Time to work."
He washed his face with cold water to clear his head.
'Cyberpunk: Edgerunners' has finished airing.
Its average paid views would likely reach 17 million.
Add licensing fees, Zhongxia TV's import fee, product placements, overseas sales, and merchandise—
The company's revenue from this one project would exceed 180 million.
A 70 million investment with over 200% ROI.
A massive win.
Once the money arrived, funding would no longer be a concern.
And now—it was time to draw new works.
With over a hundred employees, Su Yan couldn't pay people to sit idle.
He immersed his consciousness into the system space and checked his emotional points.
The combined impact of 'Life Is Strange' and 'Cyberpunk: Edgerunners' had generated over 100 million points—relief washed over him.
As before, he played it safe—spending 20 million points to test the waters.
The lottery interface flickered.
Su Yan held his breath.
The result disappointed him.
'Akame ga Kill'.
Not a bad work—nor lacking in tragedy—but ill-suited for a TV adaptation here.
Especially Western fantasy worlds.
Xia Nation audiences simply weren't accustomed to them.
Even 'Cyberpunk' had been risky—but at least cyberpunk elements existed locally, and its guns, society, and tech weren't too far from reality.
Western fantasy, though—pure isekai—was a step too far.
So he abandoned it.
He still had 90 million points left.
After thinking, he split them in half.
He spent 45 million.
The wheel spun—
A long-buried memory surfaced, stirring his emotions.
'Tokyo Love Story'.
He sucked in a breath.
An unforgettable classic.
This wasn't an anime or game—but a legendary live-action drama from his past life.
Once sweeping across Asia, it still ranked near the top of classic J-drama lists decades later.
One of the peaks of its era.
Drawing this—felt lucky.
No need to worry about localization failure.
Its past success spoke for itself.
Given how Su Yan's works resonated in Xia Nation, there was no reason audiences wouldn't embrace them.
Stable.
He made up his mind.
The remaining 45 million points went in.
Soon, the second title appeared.
'Puella Magi Madoka Magica'.
"Pfft—"
Su Yan nearly spat out his tea.
System—are you serious?
Madoka?
After calming down, he reconsidered.
First, the system only drew works he had experienced before.
Second—Xia Nation lacked a magical-girl series, but that didn't prevent adaptation.
The concept was easy to grasp: girls gain powers to fight evil.
No genre conditioning required.
It was modern fantasy—similar shows already existed.
The main concern was visual effects.
But that was solvable.
Effects depend on one thing—
Money.
With enough budget, 'Madoka' wouldn't become cringe.
Costumes, art, VFX—money could elevate everything.
Magical girls could be dazzling.
It might even become a groundbreaking innovation.
He exited the system space and took a deep breath.
The draw felt wild—but draws always carried risk.
That's why he split the points into three attempts.
A single all-in could've produced something impossible—like 'Death Note', which might not pass review.
Direct redemption costs over 100 million points—far too expensive.
Only through draws could he get works like these at 45 million each.
High risk. High reward.
He straightened his gaze.
He came to this world with nothing.
Now he had money, people, a company, a name.
No reason to be afraid.
If he drew them—
He'd make them.