Tuesday morning at IG Second Division.
Before the official start time, several employees whispered among themselves:
"Did you hear? We're getting a new Key Animator in the Second Division today."
"Yeah, I heard. His name is Lin Zhiyan."
"Lin Zhiyan? Why haven't I ever heard that name before? What animation did he work on before?"
"Who knows? I heard he's only 18 and just graduated from high school."
"He's a Key Animator straight out of high school? How did he pull that off?"
"Right? Don't you usually start as an Animator? How did he skip that step and get hired as a Key Animator?"
"Could he have gotten in through backdoor connections? That would be really disappointing if true."
From animator to key animator—a progression that had become an unwritten rule in the industry.
Lin Zhiyan broke this rule. At only 18 years old, it was inevitable that people would suspect he'd gotten in through backdoor connections.
If true, it would be a massive blow to those animators who had worked tirelessly for two or three years without being promoted to key animator.
Even those key animators who had successfully escaped the ranks of junior animators would feel bitter. After all, they had endured their fair share of hardships as animators. How could they tolerate someone "skipping class" through backdoor connections?
More importantly, a subpar key animator would become a burden to the entire animation production team. Those with self-awareness might be manageable, but anyone stubbornly insisting on drawing despite their lack of skill would be a disaster.
Their concerns were understandable.
As the person at the center of the controversy, Lin Zhiyan remained blissfully unaware of the chatter, having been absent from the scene.
Around 10 p.m., after completing his onboarding procedures, he finally arrived at the area where the Second Division's key animators had their workstations.
First, he sought out the division head, Kazuchika Kise, and introduced himself.
After the introductions, he settled into the workstation assigned to him.
Lin Zhiyan glanced around the room. He recognized a few faces, but most were unfamiliar. After all, not everyone present could become a major player in the animation industry, and even those who did might not be people he'd be interested in.
Since he wasn't interested, even if their photos were available online, he wouldn't bother looking them up. Naturally, now that he was seeing them in person, he couldn't recall their names.
That wasn't a problem. He had plenty of time to gradually get to know everyone.
He turned his attention back to his desk, opened his bag, and pulled out all the tools he needed for drawing: pencils, erasers, masking tape, cleaning tools, a pencil sharpener, and so on.
Just as he finished setting up, Akimoto To, the production manager for the Akimoto team, approached his workstation with a small notebook.
"Mr. Hayashi, we have about 30 unassigned keyframe cuts this week. Take a look and choose a few—simple or challenging, it's up to you."
A "cut" refers to a continuous shot in the animation, ranging from long to short sequences. On average, a cut in an anime lasts about 4 to 5 seconds.
In Japanese 2D animation, one second consists of 24 frames. The most natural-looking animation to the human eye is 24 keyframes per second, which is also known as "one-on-one" or "one frame per second."
While one-to-one animation—where each frame is drawn individually—appears the most natural to the human eye, it's not necessarily the most practical. The time and resources required to produce an entire animation using this method would be prohibitively expensive for most animation companies.
Moreover, the increased workload would drive up production costs. Even if a company wanted to use one-to-one animation, they'd need the budget to support it.
Another consideration is that one-to-one animation excels in detail, but this detail comes at the cost of speed. For scenes requiring fast action or explosive energy, one-to-one animation is entirely unsuitable. In such cases, three-to-one animation—where each keyframe is held for three frames—is a better choice.
Three-to-one animation means eight keyframes per second, while two-to-one animation requires twelve keyframes per second.
In Japan, animation production typically combines two-to-one and three-to-one animation. While one-to-one animation does exist, it's relatively rare.
Of course, these ratios aren't set in stone. The number of keyframes per second—whether it's eight, twelve, or twenty-four—ultimately depends on the specific scene and its requirements.
Lin Zhiyan didn't know whether the thirty cuts Akimoto To had were long or short scenes. Without asking further, he simply said, "Give me the hardest ones to animate."
As soon as these words were spoken, several key animators in the vicinity couldn't help but turn their gaze toward Lin Zhiyan.
Other new key animators would typically start with the simplest cuts, gradually increasing the difficulty as they gained experience. But this newcomer? He wanted to tackle the most challenging cuts right from the start, as if he didn't even acknowledge the notorious difficulty of Ghost in the Shell.
This only deepened their suspicion that Lin Zhiyan might be one of those who had gotten in through backdoor connections and lacked self-awareness. After all, who with any self-awareness would immediately choose the hardest task?
Dealing with an animator like this was bound to give everyone a headache in the future.
As they silently stewed in their frustration, Akimoto To, on the other hand, said cheerfully, "Is that okay?"
"Of course," Lin Zhiyan replied, his expression impassive.
"Then I'll start by assigning you the most difficult cuts. You can let me know after you finish."
Akimoto To sighed in relief. "It's fantastic that Mr. Hayashi is willing to take on the toughest ones. I was really worried about who to assign those to."
"Just leave any particularly challenging frames to me," Lin Zhiyan said casually, as if it were nothing.
"Understood," Akimoto To nodded.
He first gave a rough explanation of the content for the cuts he wanted Lin Zhiyan to draw. Only after Lin Zhiyan confirmed he could handle them did he leave the key animator work area, heading back to his own desk to retrieve the relevant layouts and complete character design documents for Lin Zhiyan.
However, just as he stepped away, another key animator chased after him and asked, "Mr. Akimoto, are you really okay with assigning such a difficult cut to a newcomer?"
"You mean Mr. Hayashi?" Akimoto To turned to glance back at the key animator work area, his voice brimming with confidence. "He'll be fine. After all, he's someone Mr. Kise personally approved."
If he had just met Lin Zhiyan, Akimoto To would never have dared to entrust the most challenging cut to him. Even on the day Lin Zhiyan drew two Ghost in the Shell keyframes, they were relatively simple scenes. That didn't mean he could handle more complex cuts.
But on that day when Kazuchika Kise approached Lin Zhiyan to discuss drawing techniques, Akimoto To had been present for nearly the entire conversation. Even if he had only glimpsed the tip of the iceberg of Lin Zhiyan's skills, it was enough to fill him with unwavering confidence.
Can't draw it?
No way!
In his eyes, the only limit was whether Lin Zhiyan wanted to draw it. There was nothing he couldn't draw.