Illumination Production Company moved with astonishing speed.
Once Rei and Himari finalized the supplementary agreement, Himari didn't linger at the studio even for a day. She immediately returned to her hometown to pester her semi-retired father, a former top-tier animation producer who had once stood at the peak of Japan's animation industry.
On her own, Himari's reputation commanded respect, but not universal deference.
Her father, however, was a different story.
When he spoke, people listened.
Under Himari's relentless persistence, she successfully reached a number of highly capable veterans through her father's old connections, people who had worked with him closely back in the golden age of Japanese animation.
These were not newcomers chasing hype, but seasoned professionals who had stepped back from the spotlight only because the industry no longer offered projects worthy of their standards.
With that layer of trust, combined with the capital Rei had poured in, Illumination Production Company began releasing bombshell announcements one after another.
Animation directors, chief animators, and production managers who had been silent for two or three years, people widely believed to have retired, suddenly announced their participation in the Arcane animation project.
A studio that had been on the brink of bankruptcy just two years ago was, starting this April, inexplicably assembling a luxury-grade production team.
On top of that, Arcane publicly claimed the highest production budget in the industry for the year.
The reaction was immediate.
"What exactly is Shirogane trying to do? Is he just burning money for fun?"
"People keep saying the budget is a 800 hundred million, but looking at this lineup, I honestly doubt that's enough. The confirmed director, Lance, is infamous for extravagant production. His work is high quality because he pours money into every frame. Even non-key frames are polished to absurd levels. And that guy has late-stage obsessive-compulsive tendencies. Work under him for a week and you'll understand."
"Stop. Don't remind me. I worked under Lance once, on that animation that felt like one endless circus. It was pure hell. Veteran animators drawing day and night, only to have their work rejected again and again. Ten years later, I still get flashbacks."
"The Arcane team is in for a nightmare. Between now and its premiere next January, they'll learn what real suffering looks like."
"Suffering? Do you know whose hands that 800 hundred million ends up in? If it were me, I'd fight to get onto that project. But they won't take just anyone. Even secondary and tertiary key animators need five to eight years of experience. And the pay per cut is outrageous."
"What kind of animation needs this scale? Shirogane is just a manga artist, how is he doing something like this?"
"Manga artist? Don't joke. Anime and manga aren't separate worlds. Shirogane isn't just tearing things up in animation, he's a monster in manga too. Hunter x Hunter is already closing in on fourteen million average volume sales. Fastest to five million. Fastest to ten million. At this rate, the fastest to fifteen million is only a matter of time."
"I don't even know where this guy came from. Last year I thought Hikaru no Go was just a good show, my kids liked it, my parents liked it. This year? It feels like he's about to dominate the entire ACG scene."
The chain reaction triggered by Arcane rippled across the entire Japanese ACG industry.
Seeing the hype reach critical mass, many GG companies rushed forward, hoping to invest or insert product placements.
Rei rejected all of them without hesitation.
Product placement would only dilute the work.
He had no interest in that.
While Arcane continued to dominate industry discussions, the second episode of One-Punch Man Season Three aired smoothly.
In the Japanese version of the anime, Rei deliberately streamlined Garou's scenes.
After Garou was taken to the Monster Association, several high-ranking figures, such as Gyoro Gyoro, evaluated him. In the original work, these scenes lingered heavily on Garou's psychological growth and ideological struggle.
Rei had never been particularly fond of that approach.
In his view, Garou's role was important, but not to the extent of overshadowing the larger conflict.
If Saitama in One-Punch Man is an outright cheat, then Garou is a character built from a script that is inferior to a cheat.
His growth is framed as the result of a hundred points of blood, sweat, and desperation, yet beneath that lies ten thousand points of raw, unreasonable talent. In battle, he evolves endlessly. Corner him, and he adapts. Push him to the brink of death, and he locks in, breaks through, and comes back stronger. As long as you don't kill him outright, he will immediately surpass you and strike back.
This kind of setting was extremely common in Japanese manga in Rei's previous life.
It was usually reserved for protagonists.
When applied to a villain, however, it becomes deeply uncomfortable to watch.
Rei understood this very clearly.
So he preserved Garou's core concept, but drastically reduced his screen time.
Because what the audience truly wanted to see in One-Punch Man was never a villain's slow, indulgent rise.
They wanted to see heroes pushed into despair, fighting while outmatched, refusing to retreat even when victory seemed impossible.
They wanted to see Saitama appear at the final moment, defeat the enemy with a single punch, let King take the credit, and then walk away casually, leaving behind stunned onlookers and broken logic.
They were not especially interested in watching a villain painstakingly grow stronger when that villain was destined to be knocked out by Saitama in one punch anyway.
Of course, part of this discomfort also stemmed from the fact that Garou's portrayal in the original work never quite reached a level that truly moved people.
At the very least, Rei believed that if the original author, ONE, had written a story about King secretly training day and night, earnestly trying to become worthy of his reputation, and if the final arc of One-Punch Man had been King formally challenging Saitama, no viewer would have complained that the pacing dragged.
Because effort without payoff feels hollow.
But irony without resolution feels perfect.
After these adjustments, the viewing experience of One-Punch Man's third season became noticeably smoother.
And more importantly, clearer.
By the end of the second episode, the audience had already realized something crucial.
The third season was no longer following a single narrative line.
It had split into two major threads.
One was the open war: the Hero Association versus the Monster Association.
The other was Garou, lurking in the shadows of that war, secretly sharpening himself, waiting for the moment to emerge and shock everyone.
As more information about the Monster Association was revealed, tension among viewers steadily climbed.
Fans hadn't forgotten the Deep Sea King.
A Demon-level monster at peak condition had once defeated Puri-Puri Prisoner and Genos in succession back in Season One.
Since then, the idea that a peak Demon-level threat could overpower weaker S-Class Heroes had been firmly etched into the collective consciousness of One-Punch Man fans.
And now, even the weakest Dragon-level monsters could casually crush Suiryu, the martial arts champion.
Considering that Suiryu could easily overwhelm A-Class Heroes, his strength was likely already brushing the lower boundary of S-Class.
Yet he had been utterly helpless.
The Monster Association possessed multiple Dragon-level monsters.
And judging by the story's hints, there existed an even more terrifying entity, someone capable of suppressing all of them.
A so-called Monster King.
Could the Hero Association, with barely more than a dozen S-Class Heroes, really defeat such an organization?
Doubt spread.
Anxiety brewed.
Then, everything changed.
Because viewers noticed one detail on the mission roster.
Among the heroes scheduled to launch the direct assault on the Monster Association…was King.
The Strongest Man on Earth.
S-Class Rank 7.
King was going to the battlefield too.
There was no escaping it now.
The weak, helpless, pitiful "Strongest Man on Earth" would be thrown directly into the heart of the Monster Association.
Would his true nature finally be exposed?
Or would he once again, through coincidence, misunderstanding, and sheer cosmic absurdity, further cement his legend as the strongest man alive?