Chapter 283: Shinji: I'd Rather Be Watching Magical Illya
When it came to causing a scene, Shinji truly had a talent for it.
Out of everyone on the red carpet that day, he was probably the only guest who managed to leave all the reporters utterly speechless—not because of any language barrier or translation mishap, but purely because of the way he played the crowd.
"Any more questions?"
Shinji smoothly slipped back into his refined gentleman mode, smiling warmly at the reporters as if nothing had happened.
Now that the eccentric act was over, one reporter finally mustered the courage to ask, "Director Matou, do you have any plans to make a film centered on Chinese culture in the future?"
"Well... it's not out of the question," Shinji replied vaguely, keeping his tone deliberately noncommittal. "It's just that my schedule is already packed for the next few years. I don't currently have the right script or concept in hand."
"But if I had to guess, the most likely scenario would be adding a Chinese Heroic Spirit to one of the upcoming Fate films."
"Really?!"
That got the reporters buzzing with excitement.
After all, having a local actor appear in one of the highest-grossing franchises globally? That would be a huge deal.
Several reporters leaned forward eagerly, voices overlapping:
"Then, Director Matou, who would you cast for such a role? Would it be—"
"Ah, sorry. My little sister seems to need something. I'll have to excuse myself for now."
Before they could spit out any names, Shinji cut them off and swiftly made his escape.
Because let's be honest—no matter who they named, he'd be stuck in a corner.
Anyone they'd bring up would be a top-tier Chinese celebrity with massive popularity.
And whatever answer Shinji gave—whether he accepted, declined, or even tried to dodge politely—would be twisted and dissected online.
At best, they'd accuse him of arrogance.
At worst, they'd twist his words into saying he "looks down on Chinese actors," and he'd be buried under a mountain of hate.
This wasn't something a smart person would touch with a ten-foot pole.
Especially not when modern internet discourse was as volatile as it is. Some hot topics vanish in a few days like smoke, while others—usually the petty or controversial ones—get dug up years later just to stir the pot again.
Just look at Sam Raimi, director of the Spider-Man trilogy.
Because Peter once said to a wrestler in Spider-Man 1, "Nice outfit. Did your husband give it to you?", people on the internet dug it up eighteen years later and canceled him for being "misogynistic."
Like seriously?
That was clearly just a throwaway line, a quip in the context of a fight.
But no, someone had to pull out the Moral Sword of Righteousness and swing it across time.
How noble of them—executing the officials of the current dynasty with the swords of the last!
Shinji had no time for that kind of nonsense.
Even if their words couldn't hurt him, just dealing with that crap would be irritating as hell.
So, the best move?
Retreat, fast and clean.
Besides, Sakura was standing by the theater doors, waving at him. So technically... he wasn't lying.
"You're running away? That's rare. What were they asking?"
Sakura giggled teasingly when he joined her.
"Trying to trap me with loaded questions," Shinji replied with a casual shrug.
Sakura nodded knowingly.
That kind of underhanded media tactic was all too common in the Japanese entertainment world.
She didn't even need to ask further.
The two of them stood on the steps for a bit, waiting for the earlier batch of reporters to shift their attention elsewhere.
Once the coast was clear, Shinji returned to the press area for another round—this time with a fresh group of reporters.
But now, Shinji has learned his lesson.
He stuck strictly to promoting Super 8, dodging every off-topic question with practiced grace, leaving the reporters with nothing but awkward silence.
After spending another half hour giving the film some much-needed buzz, Shinji finally stepped into the theater, thoroughly pleased with himself.
Today marked the opening ceremony of the film festival.
And while Shinji bore the glittering title of "Director of the World's Highest-Grossing Film," he wasn't the main character here.
The spotlight wasn't his to steal.
The real stars of the evening were the festival jury and the cast and crew of the opening film.
Even though Shinji was technically listed as one of the jurors, he was fully self-aware.
No point trying to compete with the jury president Luc Besson or vice president Director Feng—those two were in an entirely different league. Best to quietly play the part of the background extra.
With that in mind, Shinji entered the grand hall of the Shanghai Philharmonic Theater with Sakura on his left arm and his assistant Li Ri'ang faithfully following on the right—his very own "Two Guardian Generals."
They were here to watch the festival's opening film.
Unfortunately, the film turned out to be a total letdown—so much so that Shinji felt the whole opening ceremony ended on a sour note.
The film, titled The White Countess, was a Sino-British co-production by Shanghai Film Studio and a UK production company.
It was adapted from the novel of the same name by Kazuo Ishiguro, the Japanese-British author.
Set in 1936 Shanghai, it told the story of a disillusioned former American diplomat and a Russian countess, fallen from grace and now reduced to singing in dingy bars.
Now, just because Shinji specialized in commercial films didn't mean he couldn't appreciate art films.
As a legitimate filmmaker, he could analyze a film from every angle—cinematography, score, pacing—and even learn a thing or two to take back to his own work.
But this one?
This one left him completely bewildered.
He had no idea what the creators were trying to say.
What really drove him nuts was that, aside from being set in Shanghai and using local extras, the film didn't feel "co-produced" at all.
The main cast was entirely foreign.
The one Asian face onscreen?
Hiroyuki Sanada, playing—of course—a Japanese spy.
Mhm.
Now that's the kind of "co-production" you used to see in the old days.
Just wait a couple of years—Chinese audiences aren't going to fall for this kind of scam much longer.
Honestly, if Shinji wanted to make this kind of superficial co-production, he could easily get full support from the Chinese side.
With the right finesse, he could shoot something on Fate/Zero's level at nearly zero cost.
But he wouldn't stoop that low.
Why?
Simple.
It's scummy.
These projects were rotten at the core—designed to siphon money with no real artistic or commercial ambition.
And everyone on set would be half-assing it from the start.
You could see it just by looking at the script.
The film was a trainwreck from beginning to end.
The leads' relationship felt like it was forced into existence by the script.
All the tension, all the supposed gravitas—rendered meaningless.
The whole thing was an insult to the audience's intelligence.
And it wasn't just Shinji.
Most of the audience in the theater looked equally unimpressed.
By the time the end credits rolled, the look in their eyes was no different from the fireworks bursting over a refugee ship in the film's final scene—hollow and lifeless.
Had Shinji known ahead of time that this so-called art film only scored a 6.6 on Douban, he wouldn't have set his expectations so high.
He could've mentally prepared himself for the incoming disappointment.
"Damn it. I regret everything."
Shinji groaned, rubbing his jaw as he exited the theater.
"Watching this garbage? I should've just stayed in the hotel and caught the latest episode of Magical Illya!"
He couldn't help but wonder:
On one hand, he just sat through an hour and a half of washed-up actresses pretending to have gravitas on a dying screen.
On the other, Japanese TV was giving him active-duty middle school magical girls.
What kind of bad decision-making had led him here?
Cough cough.
Well, grumbling was all well and good, but Shinji knew full well this was just one of those duties he had to endure.
If he'd left halfway through, it would've been a direct slap in the face to the hosts and sponsors.
The only silver lining?
At least he wasn't the only one suffering.
After surviving the opening ceremony of the film festival, Shinji dragged his exhausted body back to the hotel.
He was just about to collapse onto the bed when his uncle, Kariya, came knocking at the door.
"You guys think this is a game?!"
Kariya barged in with a scowl.
"There was nothing the past few days—told me to let loose and rest—only to dump everything on me tonight? Are you messing with me?!"
"Not my fault. Everything just piled up at once. No—actually, more accurately, I was only informed about all of it after the ceremony ended," Shinji said, rubbing his temple.
Kariya rolled his eyes.
Yeah, he could tell Shinji wasn't in the mood either.
Truth be told, he was completely dead on his feet too.
"Here's the deal, Shinji," Kariya said, trying to keep it short.
Someone had reached out to him, asking if there were any plans for Shinji's upcoming films to shoot on location in China in the near future.
"China?"
Shinji furrowed his brow, then slowly shook his head.
Most of his future projects were firmly tied to the Type-Moon franchise.
And because of the Heroic Spirit actors, the default filming location would always be Fuyuki City.
Anything that happened outside that setting would be minimal at best—brief transitional scenes, maybe a few montages—not enough to justify a full shoot overseas.
Too much hassle for too little screen time.
So, he replied honestly, "Maybe in the future, if the opportunity fits. But for now, it's unlikely. At least not until the Servants can be allowed to leave Fuyuki."
Kariya nodded.
He understood perfectly what Shinji meant.
"Let's hope your old man's research team can speed things up," he muttered.
Shinji tilted his head.
Something felt off.
"You're being weird. What's going on?"
Kariya hesitated a second before giving a low sigh.
"There's been some interest from the representatives here. They want deeper cooperation with us."
Since Shinji was the mastermind behind the entire Type-Moon system, Kariya didn't hold anything back.
"Specifically, they're interested in collaborating with us on building a cinema network using their naked-eye 3D tech. They're also trying to secure broader support from us in terms of film 'resources.'"
And when they said resources, they weren't just talking about a single movie or some special effects technique.
They meant everything—IP rights, actors, systems, production pipelines, maybe even the conceptual magic systems behind Type-Moon itself.
Shinji raised an eyebrow.
"What's Nao-neesan's take on this?"
"You're the one always saying this place has potential, right?" Kariya shrugged.
"Well, she trusts your instincts. She thinks we should be looking to form tighter partnerships with the Chinese market."
Then he pointed directly at Shinji.
"Especially you, Shinji. Your works have unparalleled influence here. Nao thinks you are Type-Moon's trump card when it comes to breaking into this market."
Shinji gave a polite smile, but he wasn't exactly flattered by the praise.
No matter how good Kariya made it sound, there was one cold, hard fact that couldn't be ignored—China's film industry was still in its early stages.
Pouring time and resources into this market right now wasn't going to yield much actual return.
It was an investment in the future.
And yes, the future was important.
But if you overcommitted to some theoretical "future" at the cost of your present, then you were just setting yourself up for disaster.
That kind of thing? Not his style.
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