The clock hand points to four.
Everyone is already in their seats, quietly waiting for the host of the final meeting to appear.

“Everyone～～～”

Before anyone comes into view, the voice echoes in from the hallway.

“Did you miss me?”

The words trail off as the boss bursts into the meeting room like a gust of wind, a broad smile plastered across his face.

Behind him trails a thoroughly exhausted member of the technical crew, who silently finds a corner seat and sits down.

The screenwriter frowns.
“What did you do to the technical crew…?”

The art lead leans back warily.
“Don’t smile like that. You’re scaring me.”

The boss is completely absorbed in his own rhythm.

“Today, I’m here to tell you all how much effort I’ve put in lately!”

He finishes speaking and looks at them with eager anticipation.

After a few seconds of silence, it’s the manager who speaks up first.

“So what exactly did you do?”

“You remember that data meeting about the platforms, right?”
The boss is practically glowing with excitement.

“I’ve decided we’re pulling back from CxC and Popo.”

“CxC will announce a suspension outright.
As for Popo, since there are still some readers there, we’ll only keep updating The Hidden Moon and the Sea of Dawn.
Once that’s finished, we’re pulling out completely.”

The art lead blinks.

“…I thought you were going to talk about Corner Entertainment.
You said they wanted to interview Guiltbound, didn’t you?”

“Hehehe～ that’ll wait until the timing’s right. It’s a surprise!”

“Are you sure it’s a surprise and not a scare…?”

“So that means we’re only left with Penana and Fanggezi now?” the screenwriter asks, following up.

As if he’s heard a keyword, the boss’s eyes light up.

“Hahaha, and that’s exactly the focus of today’s meeting! We have our own official website now!”

The director looks at him in surprise.
“Our own official website?”

“That’s right! I’ve been agonizing over this for quite a while.”

“Right now, most platforms are geared toward updating series. If we want to do other types of content, they’re just not a good fit.”

“And maintaining multiple platforms costs too much, with unstable returns. After weighing everything, I think we need a base of our own.”

“And just at that moment—heaven truly smiled on me! I ran into a Node Service Provider!”

The art lead’s expression changes.

“Wait… are you saying you’re planning to do other things as well?”

The screenwriter stares at the ceiling, his voice faint.

“Isn’t the ‘heaven-sent Node Service Provider’ part more worth complaining about…?”

The director’s expression turns grim.

“This doesn’t feel right…”

The boss, completely oblivious to the room’s mood, carries on.

“With all these questions coming in, I just knew everyone must be excited!”

“…That’s not it.”

The manager can’t help but remind him, but it clearly does no good.

“That’s right, there are so many things I want to do!
I want to shoot a dating show, take on ads, and right now I want to record a podcast more than anything!”

As he grows more and more excited with every word, the atmosphere in the room only grows quieter and quieter.

The art lead mutters, “What do we do… I think I just heard something I wasn’t supposed to hear…”

“We should probably stay quiet right now…” the screenwriter says flatly.

The director bites down on his pen cap.
“I can sort of understand dating shows and ads, but… are Podcast part of our scope now too…?”

The manager chooses to ignore the exchange altogether and calmly steers the conversation back on track.

“…What is a Node Service Provider?”

As expected, the boss’s attention is immediately redirected.

“Oh right, right, right! This provider is insanely good.
The moment I saw the terms, I knew it was exactly what we needed in a pinch!
As for the details, I’ll let the technical crew explain it to you!”

Everyone turns to look at the technical crew member, who has remained silent the entire time, eyes completely dead.

He speaks weakly.
“A while ago, the boss suddenly rushed in and said he wanted to set up a website for Dong Productions.”

“Then he asked us to coordinate with some Node Service Provider, but… we don’t actually know how to build websites…”

“So the whole department had no choice but to start from scratch.
Domains, hosting, back-end systems… we had to figure everything out ourselves.”

“And we still had to coordinate with Marketing on requirements, and in the end, move all the existing works onto the site…”

“…That’s just miserable,” the art lead says, sympathetic.

The screenwriter nods.
“Just because it says ‘technical’ doesn’t mean it’s ‘web development’!”

The boss instantly puts on a slightly sheepish smile.

“Ahaha… they were the closest fit to that skill set we had in the company.
If we’d had another department learn it instead, the learning cost would’ve been even higher…
I did evaluate it, you know!”

The director asks, “So does that mean this official website will become our main platform?”

“That’s right!” the boss says decisively.

“Going forward, all non-series content will be updated there.
It’ll be the most complete platform for our content!”

With that, he claps his hands.
“Anyway, that’s all for today’s meeting. I’ve got things to take care of. See you, everyone~”

And just like that, he’s gone again, like a gust of wind.

The others exchange looks in silence, as confusion quietly spreads through the meeting room like a thick fog.