Something unexpected happened that morning, right after Leo Vance woke up. As the first rays of the California sun hit his penthouse windows, the System chimed with a crisp, melodic notification.
[Congratulations, Host! Your global Reputation Value has surpassed 10 million!]
[Reward: Permanent "Gojo Satoru" Acting Card (During the acting period, the Host obtains all of Gojo Satoru's physical and supernatural abilities).]
Leo sat up, a sharp glint in his eyes. A permanent card meant he no longer had to rely on temporary buffs for Gojo-specific scenes. More importantly, obtaining the actual abilities, even if only during filming meant he was effectively a god on his own set.
He checked the backend data for Jujutsu Kaisen Season 1. The numbers were staggering. Total viewership across all platforms had surpassed 60 billion (including clips and social media re-watches). The number of unique, effective viewers had hit 250 million.
This wasn't just fame; it was a gold mine. The total revenue for the first season, including licensing and backend shares, had reached a monstrous $900 million.
At the same time, Leo received a formal congratulatory telegram from the executives at the National Broadcasting Network (NBN). The latest episode of The Outcast, featuring the "Bird Stroll," had set a new historical high in viewership ratings for the network, the best performance in over eight years.
Celestial Peak Studios. Soundstage 4.
"Jujutsu Kaisen: Hidden Inventory! Scene one, shot one, action!"
The voice of the executive director, David P., echoed through the gymnasium set.
Characters: Gojo Satoru, Suguru Geto, Shoko Ieiri, and Director Yaga.
Everything proceeded smoothly according to Leo's meticulously planned schedule.
"Is it really necessary to set up a 'Curtain' every time? It wouldn't matter if normal people saw us... they'd probably just think it's a high-budget movie," Leo's Gojo said, expounding his youthful, arrogant philosophy.
As he spoke, Leo snatched a basketball from Julian Cross (Suguru Geto) and performed a casual, three-step layup. The ball spun twice on the rim, hanging in the air for an improbable second before dropping through the net.
"Helping the weak and punishing the strong... that's how society should be. It's the duty of the gifted," Julian Cross replied, his tone serious and full of a naive sense of justice. He threw a shot of his own, but the ball clattered off the rim and fell away.
The scene was thick with foreshadowing. The one who made the shot would eventually become the world's protector; the one who missed would eventually lose his way.
While filming was in full swing in Los Angeles, a storm was brewing on the other side of the industry.
Netflix Headquarters, Los Gatos, California.President's Office.
"What?! Vance Global's market performance this month is ten times ours in the Asian-American and European sectors?!"
Adam, a senior executive with a penchant for expensive suits and a short fuse, slammed his hand onto his desk. He glared at John, the marketing manager standing nervously in front of him.
"Are you incompetent? You can't even beat a drama produced by an independent studio? We are the global leader! Our productions define the world!"
John stole a glance at Adam, his voice low. "Sir, you were the one who signed off on investing 70% of this quarter's budget into our South Korean acquisition, Squid Game. We thought the 'Death Game' genre was the guaranteed winner."
"Sh*t! What are you saying?!" Adam fumed. He picked up a stack of reports, almost throwing them at John's head before holding back at the last second.
He took a deep breath, trying to steady his pulse. "Yes, I signed the Squid Game plan. But do you understand the consequences? If we haven't reached 20% of our market sales target by the end of the quarter, the board will have my head. And if I go down, you're the first one I'm firing."
John's face darkened. Squid Game had an $80 million investment. It was currently halfway through its broadcast, and the numbers, memberships, ad revenue, social media mentions were nowhere near the targets.
The culprit was clear: Jujutsu Kaisen.
Released globally at the same time, Leo Vance's project was devouring the market share with a terrifying efficiency. It was a cultural black hole.
John thought about the possibility of being unemployed. The rage in his chest began to burn. He wished he could step through his monitor and physically strike the silver-haired man in the eye patch.
Before he was a marketing manager, John had been a semi-professional boxer. He had fought in underground circuits for years to pay for college. Looking at Leo Vance's photos, his knuckles itched. He genuinely wanted to buy a plane ticket and challenge the "Director" to a real-life fight in an octagon cage.
YouTube & Global Social Media.
As the world's largest video platform, YouTube's trending list had been colonized by one name: Gojo Satoru.
Because JJK had been released in its entirety for the overseas market, international audiences had already witnessed the climax. When they saw Gojo remove the blindfold to reveal the "Six Eyes" and dismantle Jogo, the internet went into a state of collective delirium.
YouTube, Instagram, and TikTok were overflowing with Gojo-themed content. The comments from netizens worldwide were a testament to the show's global reach:
[Oh my god! I didn't know an actor could actually look like that! Is he an angel sent to save Hollywood?]
[So handsome! He's a million times better than the generic action stars we usually get!]
[I actually studied abroad in LA for a few years, and I heard Leo Vance once traveled to Seoul. He's very fond of international culture! Judging by his features, he's got that perfect global aesthetic.]
The "Gojo Fever" was no longer a local trend. It was a global epidemic. And as Leo Vance prepared to film the tragedy of Hidden Inventory, the world was unknowingly lining up to have their hearts broken all over again.
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