[You have consumed all Emotion Points and initiated a draw.]
[Ding! You have obtained the work: Rurouni Kenshin: Trust & Betrayal.]
[Related high-definition data from the Trust & Betrayal arc—including manga, novels, films, music, and scripts—is being continuously uploaded.]
[Ding! First-draw bonus activated! You are guaranteed to receive one skill belonging to a character from the drawn work.
Ding! Congratulations! You have acquired Himura Kenshin's Hiten Mitsurugi-ryu swordsmanship.
Ding! First-draw bonus: the system will partially enhance the host's physique.
Ding! Enhancement complete. Body fat percentage is reduced to optimal healthy levels.
Strength, agility, and mental resilience significantly increased.]
The public office area of the screenwriting department at Sakura TV.
Su Yan slowly opened his eyes.
A massive stream of information was still pouring into his mind, messages from the system flooding in one after another.
As he absorbed this surge of memories and knowledge, his thoughts were split. Part of him was processing the system's information, while another part was still trying to accept a reality he hadn't fully wrapped his head around.
He had transmigrated yesterday.
And along with that, he had been bound to a system.
This world was eerily similar to his previous one, yet fundamentally different in key ways.
In ancient history, the Sakura region had once been a province of Xia. Because of that, modern domestic entertainment works were heavily influenced by early Sakura-region styles, giving them a familiar yet distinct flavor.
Many of the major capital forces behind the film and television industry also originated from the Sakura region.
It was much like Su Yan's previous life, when productions from Hong Kong Island once dominated the mainland market.
After arriving in this world, Su Yan had originally planned to follow the same path as Charlotte from that movie: unleashing a wave of otherworldly cultural works and riding it all the way to wealth and success.
After all, in his previous life, he had been a hardcore otaku. Anime, novels, games—his head was full of them.
And in this world, at the age of twenty, he had already become a full-time screenwriter at Sakura TV, having just passed probation a month ago. From both a career and market perspective, this was the perfect setup.
Unfortunately, the system shattered that dream.
According to the system—or perhaps the rules of this world—if Su Yan wanted to bring works from his previous life into this one, he had to spend Emotion Points to draw them.
Every time a work he participated in caused a strong emotional reaction among the native residents of this world, he would gain Emotion Points.
The more famous, longer, and commercially valuable the work he wanted, the more Emotion Points it required.
If he wanted to directly exchange for a specific work instead of relying on a draw, the cost would be at least six or seven times higher.
Take Rurouni Kenshin: Trust & Betrayal, for example. It had taken two million Emotion Points to obtain through a draw. Those points had been accumulated over two years by the original Su Yan, who had worked as an intern in the screenwriting department, being credited on more than a dozen projects of varying sizes.
If he had tried to exchange for it outright, it would have cost at least ten million Emotion Points.
Even so—
"Hiten Mitsurugi-ryu swordsmanship." Su Yan's eyes lit up.
While the system prevented him from recklessly flooding the world with cultural works, it also gave him a chance to obtain abilities from those works through draws. There were restrictions, but there were rewards as well.
At the very least, Hiten Mitsurugi-ryu was no joke. In the original story, it was a genuinely terrifying killing sword style.
Back in his previous life, whenever Su Yan watched the Rurouni Kenshin anime or films, he had been endlessly envious of the protagonist's swift, elegant killing moves.
Now, as the sword techniques poured into his mind, Su Yan felt an instinctive familiarity take hold.
A mosquito buzzed above his head.
Su Yan picked up a utility knife from the desk.
With a single thought, a flash of steel cut through the empty office space, fast enough to make one's heart skip.
The mosquito's wings—no bigger than mung beans—were cleanly severed and drifted down. The wingless insect dropped onto the desk, crawling aimlessly in confusion.
"In a law-abiding society, I can only kill mosquitoes," Su Yan muttered. "But… I'm really strong."
His eyes widened slightly.
Clatter.
At that moment, members of the screenwriting department who had gone out for lunch began returning one after another.
Su Yan immediately stopped what he was doing and put the knife away.
Sakura TV was one of Xia's three major television networks. Its professional screenwriting department alone had hundreds of employees year-round. Every quarter, they produced a wide range of TV dramas, variety shows, and prank-style programs for broadcast.
With the rise of the internet era and the explosive growth of online users, the network's affiliated streaming platforms also served massive audiences. Online dramas and films had similarly huge production demands every quarter.
Everyone in the screenwriting department was busy.
Those who went out to gather material or supervise filming were one thing, but even the people working inside the office hall were buried in their own tasks.
Even so, several female employees occasionally glanced at Su Yan when they had a moment.
The original Su Yan had already been handsome. After the system's physical enhancement reduced his body fat and sharpened his features, he stood out even more.
His well-defined profile and slightly sharp gaze were enough to draw attention, even in a place filled with people accustomed to seeing celebrities and good-looking stars.
"Su Yan, have you finished the script you're submitting to the production department tomorrow?"
A man in his forties with a protruding belly walked up beside him. His name was Sawai Teruhiro.
Although Xia's entertainment industry was heavily influenced by Sakura Island culture, and Tokyo was one of the country's major economic cities, a nationwide television network couldn't realistically place its headquarters on a small island.
Whether it was production, broadcasting, or cooperation with advertisers, everything would be inconvenient.
That was why, despite being administratively affiliated with Sakura Province, Sakura TV's headquarters was located in Hudou, one of Xia's major metropolitan cities. More than half of its staff were employees dispatched from Sakura Province, living and working there long-term.
Sawai Teruhiro had been the original Su Yan's mentor throughout his two-year internship.
Su Yan had graduated from middle school at fifteen and spent three years studying film and television directing at a vocational school. After graduation, he worked under Sawai Teruhiro as a screenwriting intern for two years, only becoming a full-time employee last month.
Once a screenwriter passed probation, they no longer had to run errands for senior writers. Every quarter, they were allowed to submit one original script to the production department. If a producer approved it, the station would allocate funding, assemble a team, and move forward with production and broadcast.
Of course, competition was brutal.
A single TV drama often involved investments of tens of millions. Even online-only projects typically require budgets in the millions.
Many new screenwriters went one or two years—sometimes even longer—without ever seeing their scripts approved.
All they could do was attach themselves to established writing teams, doing grunt work for a modest base salary. If they failed to prove their value over time, they were either quietly laid off or forced to leave the industry on their own.
Sawai Teruhiro genuinely cared about Su Yan, which was why he brought up the topic of the script.
"Yes, Master Sawai," Su Yan replied with a smile. "Thank you for the reminder. I've been preparing for this for two years. I won't be careless."
In the original owner's memories, Sawai Teruhiro was rigid in his manner of speaking, but not a bad person. He was a responsible mentor.
"Good," Sawai Teruhiro said. "I admire that attitude. Calm, steady, and confident. One day, you'll have an office of your own here in the Sakura TV screenwriting department."
It was encouragement—and a bit of empty optimism.
In truth, he didn't think the chances of Su Yan's first script being selected and funded were very high.
Still, he hoped Su Yan wouldn't be discouraged and would persevere, rather than becoming like some of the young people he had seen before, who left the industry entirely after a few rejections.
With that, Sawai Teruhiro turned and walked back toward his office.
Watching his back, Su Yan let out a long breath.
He opened the drawer at his workstation in the public office area. Inside was a stack of scripts written by the original owner.
Summer Wind.
It told the story of a young woman who failed to find a job after graduation, struggled in the city, and eventually returned to her hometown to inherit the family business.
The plot wasn't completely without merit, but compared to the flood of poorly made dramas on the market, Su Yan didn't think this script was much better.
After putting it back, he turned on the computer and began typing with practiced ease. In the title field of the standard script document, he entered:
Rurouni KenshinScreenwriter: Su Yan
Since he had drawn Rurouni Kenshin: Trust & Betrayal, there was nothing more to hesitate about.
Although it was originally a side story to the Rurouni Kenshin manga, its OVA adaptation was considered legendary among veteran anime fans, both in production quality and storytelling.
It had even been adapted into a live-action film.
With its outstanding reputation and deeply depressing tone, it was one of Su Yan's personal favorites. He had always loved emotionally heavy stories.
As long as someone in Sakura TV's production department had even a bit of taste…
There was no way this script would be rejected after submission.
Probably.
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If you notice any issues with the translation, feel free to point them out. The translator will humbly accept feedback.