March 26th, early morning.
Tokyo, Musashino City, IG Office Building.
Lin Zhiyan glanced up at the building, then quickly strode inside.
After entering, he first filled out an application form, submitted his resume along with his portfolio, and watched as his resume was photocopied five times. He was then directed to wait outside the interview room.
There weren't many others present for the interview.
In 2022, if a Japanese university graduate announced they wanted to work in animation, they would likely receive blessings from their family and friends, even if they didn't fully understand the field. At worst, they might face mild opposition.
But in 1995, it was a different story. The lingering fallout from the Tsutomu Miyazaki Incident had cast a dark shadow over the ACG industry and its practitioners, leaving society with a deeply negative impression—especially among older generations.
To put it bluntly, if parents discovered their child wanted to work in animation, they might have been tempted to break their legs.
Under these circumstances, the pressure one had to endure was unimaginable.
For someone like Lin Zhiyan, the only people who would typically show up for interviews at animation companies at this time were those who had no other options or those who truly, deeply loved animation.
In 1995, IG was still a relatively small company. Having split from Tatsunoko in 1987, it had only been operating independently for eight years, and had yet to produce any truly noteworthy works.
Previously, the most notable animation produced by IG was Mobile Police, directed by Mamoru Oshii. However, the TV series version was made by Sunrise, and IG only assisted with the OVA version, essentially outsourcing the entire project.
The only two films truly made by IG were the two theatrical releases.
Compared to Studio Ghibli, led by Hayao Miyazaki; Toei, which dominated the 90s with countless IPs; and Sunrise, which could coast on the Gundam franchise for a lifetime, IG was truly unremarkable at the time.
Creating animation was never a particularly promising path to begin with, and given IG's low profile, it was no surprise that few people showed up for the interview.
However, Lin Zhiyan, having been reborn from the future, knew exactly what was coming: in just a few months, Mamoru Oshii's theatrical animation Ghost in the Shell would be released.
Though the film's box office performance was merely enough to break even, its influence was immense. It won numerous awards, topped Billboard's family video sales chart after its North American release, and garnered praise from directors like James Cameron and Steven Spielberg. The Wachowski Brothers even claimed that The Matrix was heavily influenced by this anime.
After the Tsutomu Miyazaki Incident, Japanese people were able to change their negative impression of animation. This was partly due to Neon Genesis Evangelion, but Ghost in the Shell also played a significant role.
In any case, IG would soon become a household name.
In the 1990s, IG primarily focused on OVA (Original Video Animation) and theatrical releases, with few TV series. It wasn't until the 21st century that their TV anime production gradually increased.
In the Goryeo Dynasty, this company's fame might have surpassed even Kyoto Animation, and even Dominance Studio, which is sometimes called "the hegemonic studio," might have been more well-known than IG. However, Dominance Studio was actually established in 2012 by members of IG's Sixth Division, making it a subsidiary of IG.
Another company, though independent, was also established with IG's support and is considered a subsidiary. It's called XEBEC, also known as "Sailboat Studio."
Sailboat Studio's fame might not match IG's in the Goryeo Dynasty, but many classic anime originated from this company, including Let's & Go!!, Martian Successor Nadesico, Love Hina, Shaman King, To Love-Ru, and Haiyore! Nyaruko-san.
If Lin Zhiyan joined IG at this time, he would likely become involved in the production of Ghost in the Shell and other animations by Sailboat Studio.
Moreover, IG had handled the full outsourcing of Neon Genesis Evangelion, and the two 1997 theatrical releases of Neon Genesis Evangelion were directly produced by IG in collaboration with GAINAX.
At first glance, joining this company might seem like a disadvantage, but it actually holds great potential.
Building his credentials would be a breeze.
The company was large, and even after poaching notable talents like Mamoru Oshii and the "Three Animation Gods" of IG—Kazuchika Kise, Tetsuo Nishio, and Toshiyuki Okiura—there were still many other highly promising artists to recruit.
Of course, it was too early to get ahead of himself. He'd just have to get in first and worry about the rest later.
Exactly 10:00 AM, the interviews officially began.
Contrary to his expectations, the interviews were conducted individually rather than in groups. Since Lin Zhiyan had arrived relatively late, he had to wait for quite some time.
He roughly estimated that it might be around 10:30 before his turn came.
With nothing to do and no reading material to pass the time—though he had brought his sketchbook and drawing tools, he didn't want to risk drawing during the wait—he grew restless.
Finally, needing a restroom break, he excused himself after a short while.
"Did you say Mr. Umehara is out of commission? How sudden!"
"Apparently, he fell while riding his bicycle. Ugh, we're scheduled to review the keyframes for my section tomorrow, and I'm so worried."
"Is there still time to find another key animator?"
"It's not like they're easy to find. I've asked several people already—either they're too busy or they're already committed. Does Mr. Maeda have any key animators available?"
"Let me make a few calls and check. But don't get your hopes up too high. If it's really urgent, we'll have to report it to Mr. Mitsumoto and ask for his help."
"That's all we can do."
The conversation between a man and a woman outside the restroom caught Lin Zhiyan's attention.
However, by the time he finished using the restroom, washed his hands, and stepped out, the person referred to as "Mr. Maeda" had already left.
The remaining man was short and slender, wearing black-framed glasses and casual clothes. He looked to be in his early twenties.
With a troubled expression, Akimoto To sighed and turned to head into the restroom.
Lin Zhiyan quickly weighed his options and decided to strike up a conversation. "Sorry to eavesdrop, but I heard what you were saying earlier. Are you looking for a Key Animator?"
"Hm?"
Akimoto To froze, slightly raising his head to look at Lin Zhiyan, a puzzled look on his face.
After a couple of seconds, he nodded, grabbed Lin Zhiyan's shoulders, and asked excitedly, "Yes! Do you know any skilled Key Animators you could introduce me to?"
Lin Zhiyan smiled. "Of course."
Akimoto To's heart leaped, forgetting about the restroom. He urgently asked, "Who? Where? How do I contact them?"
"Me, actually."
As Lin Zhiyan spoke, he pointed at himself.
Akimoto To: (⊙_⊙)