He was certainly confident. “The World’s Bizarre Tales” was originally called “The World’s Bizarre Night.” It was only intended to fill a late-night slot for one season, but it unexpectedly received rave reviews, achieving over 20% viewership in the late-night time slot. This drew the TV station’s attention to late-night programming, which they no longer treated perfunctorily. As the show’s reception grew better and better, it was simply moved to prime time, beginning a process of filming two to three seasons per year. At its peak, it achieved a 37.4% effective viewership rate—this is also why Ryan Chandler chose this show.

However, he couldn’t tell Ian Murphy any of this; he could only see if she was willing to take a gamble. After all, whether or not she believed this script could become a great show depended on her own judgment—no amount of guarantees from others would help.

Of course, pinning your hopes on others is foolish, but he had no choice but to seek out a producer like Ian Murphy. After all, there are many types of production teams. For example, there’s the director-in-charge system, which is common in film and anime production, where the director (or supervisor) has the final say and is responsible for the work’s results.

There’s also the writer-in-charge system, which is popular in Korean TV dramas and used in China’s Qiong Yao series.

But in the Japanese TV station production bureau system, it’s the producer-in-charge system. The producer is responsible for submitting proposals, assembling the production team, and managing almost everything except the creative work, while also being accountable for the final results. In this model, the producer represents the investors, acts as the production team’s financial supervisor and executive producer, and is the key figure driving a program’s production.

If Ryan Chandler didn’t find a producer like Ian Murphy, there was simply no way to push the script forward within the production bureau system—no matter how good the script, it would just be waste paper.

He could only wait for Ian Murphy to make her own decision. Ian Murphy still hadn’t returned the script to him, just lightly tapping it, torn with indecision.

What he said made sense, the theory seemed sound, the prospects he painted were enticing, and it was a good proposal with feasibility. More importantly, it seemed tailor-made for a new producer like her—low investment, little competition, easy approval, easy to shoot, and the script was indeed quite good. But should she take the risk, or stick to her original plan and play it safe?

This was a matter of her career prospects—a question worth deep consideration...

Chapter 7: Be Greedy When You Should

The workplace is made up of countless choices. The right choices lead to step-by-step advancement, eventually reaching the pinnacle, while the wrong choices bring setbacks, ultimately leading to obscurity.

Ian Murphy lowered her head in thought, her thin brows furrowing and relaxing, relaxing and furrowing again, struggling for a long time—so long that her coffee had gone cold—before finally looking up and asking, “Mr. Chandler, what are your terms?”

She had made her choice, believing that what Ryan Chandler described matched the current state of the TV industry, and that his theory was at least self-consistent and novel. The proposal was good, the script was fresh, and it was worth gambling her career on. After all, as a woman, she was inherently at a disadvantage in the workplace compared to men. Rather than competing head-on with men for the best time slots, it was better to take a reliable proposal and script and gamble on an easier-to-get, less desirable time slot.

She wasn’t hoping for a miracle or sky-high ratings. As long as this man’s theory was even a little bit correct, and the final ratings were a notch above the current late-night average, that would be enough to prove her ability. Then it would be easier to apply for better time slots in the future. If she could even get 4%...

No, there’s no way it could reach 4%. Don’t be too optimistic. Even 3% would be enough—3% would already be a small miracle!

She decided to take the risk, but she hadn’t just entered society yesterday—her naivety had long since been worn away. Ryan Chandler had waited at the door to see her, handed over an interesting script and a complete proposal—he couldn’t possibly be doing this out of charity.

This was an unspoken deal: Ryan Chandler gave her the proposal, and she needed to give Ryan Chandler the return he wanted.

So, she had to ask. Otherwise, if she just said “thank you” and put the materials away, he’d probably label her an “idiot” in his mind.

When Ryan Chandler heard her question, he felt that he had indeed chosen the right target. She wasn’t like most women, who would dither for days over buying a cucumber. He replied bluntly, “I want to be the sole screenwriter for the production team.”

When it’s time to be greedy, you have to be greedy—a.k.a. go all in to win.

He had no intention of letting others take credit for his work or share the fame. As long as he had one successful work, he would officially enter this semi-closed circle of TV professionals. Whether he stayed at Tokyo Broadcasting TEB or found another patron, it would be much easier.

If he proved himself to be a thoroughbred, naturally, patrons would flock to him. If he never got the chance to prove himself, then he’d be stuck pulling the cart forever. Reputation was his most important asset for making a living and achieving success—he had to take it all, so thoroughly that no one could question it.

Ian Murphy was a little surprised and hesitantly asked, “Mr. Chandler, you might not be familiar with the TV drama production process. Having only one screenwriter in a production team is pretty much impossible. With one episode per week, can you really keep up with the writing?”