In early March, following the broadcast of Episode 10 of 'Neon Genesis Evangelion', the buzz around the show in Great Zhou's society began to intensify and spread.
Honestly, if you had to say whether this show had any particularly "god-tier" scenes, or classic punchlines—
Like in 'Death Note': "I will become the god of the new world."
Or 'JoJo': "I reject my humanity!"
Or 'One Piece': "I am Luffy! The man who will become the Pirate King!"
Even 'One Punch Man': "I went bald… and got stronger!"
You won't really find lines like that in 'Neon Genesis Evangelion'. Even in Jing Yu's past life, what people remembered most were the two archetypal heroines: the tsundere pioneer Asuka and the emotionless Rei Ayanami.
But if you talk about a work that lingers in your mind long after watching—ten, even twenty years later—you'll remember 'Neon Genesis Evangelion'. No question.
From episode one, it deliberately presents three psychologically troubled protagonists, then uses battle after battle to peel open their innermost wounds, raw and unfiltered.
You could see their darkest thoughts and how they struggled, spiraled, and ultimately collapsed in a society that didn't care.
That's why, in Jing Yu's past life, the show sparked significant social discussion in Japan—it resonated with many people.
For a 2D anime series to transform someone's worldview might be asking too much, but if it can strike a chord in someone's heart, that's already remarkable.
And now, the same thing was happening in Great Zhou.
Online, discussion threads about 'Neon Genesis Evangelion' were popping up like bamboo shoots after rain, wave after wave.
Fans were either flaming or defending the two main heroines, arguing to the point of chaos.
Students and office workers alike couldn't help bringing up the show during casual conversations.
The debate over whether Shinji Ikari should be blamed for running away became a daily ritual on the film forums.
Some viewers even went overboard, trying to link the plot of 'Neon Genesis Evangelion' to real life. They'd draw parallels between Shinji's suffering and the hardships of ordinary people.
That kind of analysis? Overanalysis, honestly. It's like interpreting Lu Xun's "There are two trees in front of my house" or reading weird symbolism into a fish's glowing eyes.
Just like how essay writers analyze their own writing during Chinese language exams and still get the "wrong" answer—the interpretation doesn't match the "standard," and they flunk.
Jing Yu figured the 'Evangelion' writers probably never thought that far ahead when they made the script. Inspiration struck, and they just followed where it led.
However, once a show airs, the creators can't control how the audience perceives it.
Jing Yu, of course, was keeping close tabs on the rising hype online.
"You're not going to step in and guide the discourse? Your fans are tearing each other apart," said Cheng Lie, clearly surprised by the firestorm 'Neon Genesis Evangelion' had ignited near the end of its run.
"Guide what? If I chime in and get it wrong, I'll just get roasted with, 'What does Jing Yu know about 'Neon Genesis Evangelion'? Real interpretations come from the internet pros! Jing Yu shrugged.
"No need to bother. Once the show ends, all the arguing, all the theorizing—they'll go silent."
"Fair point," Cheng Lie nodded, recalling the ending of 'Neon Genesis Evangelion'.
Once the audience reaches that final episode, they'll understand—everything was for nothing. All the fandom wars and theories were futile.
"But with the show being so popular right now, do you think people will accept the ending?" Cheng Lie asked.
"Shouldn't be a problem." Jing Yu thought for a moment and didn't dwell on it.
Sure, he'd get some hate, but that was inevitable. This show wasn't built for fans who love cheerful, happy endings—he couldn't please everyone.
"As for the game, the launch date is locked in. It'll go live worldwide the day after 'Neon Genesis Evangelion' ends."
Cheng Lie understood Jing Yu's point. Jing Yu still had a chance to change the ending, but he never once took that advice—and Cheng Lie had given up trying.
"Got it. You handle that part. I'll help with the promo if it's local around Modo City, but if it's farther out, I've got filming. Yu Youqing's schedule is about the same. Xia Yining, though, she's pretty free lately," Jing Yu said.
After hashing it out, the two went their separate ways.
A few days later, Episode 11 of 'Neon Genesis Evangelion' aired.
Fans had spent the past week arguing online—faction wars raging full tilt.
At this point in the story, the debates weren't just between Ayanami and Asuka fans. Some viewers felt like nearly every character in the show made them uncomfortable.
Asuka was arrogant but insecure. Rei willingly let herself be a tool. Misato was kind to the protagonist, but also flirted with Kaji—Asuka's guardian—and even rekindled their relationship at the end of episode 10. That bedroom scene was rare for a Jing Yu show.
A lot of Misato fans couldn't accept it. Now, a significant chunk of the audience just wanted Shinji to stay single and avoid falling into some girl's honey trap.
But Episode 11 blindsided everyone.
Just when people thought the romantic arcs would be wrapped up, the episode opened with flashbacks.
How NERV was founded. The past between Shinji's parents, Gendo Ikari and Yui.
The romantic entanglements between Gendo and Ritsuko's mother, the original head scientist.
And then—Rei's truth.
She was artificially created. The Rei that Shinji knew was already the second Rei.
The first Rei was killed by Ritsuko's mother in a fit of jealousy over Gendo's attention, after being provoked by the child Rei's words.
It was a shockingly dark plot twist.
Then came another Angel attack.
Still reeling mentally from her previous defeat, Asuka lashed out at Rei out of jealousy over Shinji's continued success. This led to her falling prey to a psychic assault from the Angel and being defeated again.
At this point in the series, the framework of the plot was mostly complete.
All three Eva pilots were seriously messed up.
Rei was an artificial construct. Shinji was emotionally fragile and avoidant. And Asuka—once proud and self-assured—was now crumbling under repeated losses.
Ironically, the one most scorned early on, Shinji, was now the most "stable" of the trio.
Viewers were left stunned after watching this episode.
"This is too much. I need to sit down and sort this out."
"Asuka's truly pitiful. Her mind's falling apart. She likes Kaji, but he treats her like a kid. She tries approaching Shinji, but he's as dense as steel. That final line, 'Why didn't you hug me back then,' broke me."
"Looking back now, her anger after the kiss with Shinji makes sense—she thought he didn't care about her."
"All three leads are tragically broken. What the hell is Jing Yu's brain made of? This plot is hellbent on pushing them to the edge."
"It's getting too depressing. I don't know if I can keep watching."
"Don't tell me this is heading toward a bad ending...?"
"Last week, I hated Asuka for being arrogant. This week, I pity her. Every character is flawed, but when you understand their background, it all makes sense."
"This story's going to dark places."
"Jing Yu's earlier works had wild plots, but at least they were predictable. This one? I have no idea what's going on. It's so abstract, the storytelling is dense, even rushed—it's hard to keep up."
"Yeah, I don't even know how to feel. Every week is emotionally draining. I can't drop it, but I'm bracing for the worst. I just hope Jing Yu gives them a decent ending. Please..."
Starting from Episode 10, 'Neon Genesis Evangelion' had been getting more surreal and shocking with each new release.
The viewers were exhausted—but hopelessly hooked.
Episode 11 scored a 12.90% viewership rating.
At Yunteng TV, the station broadcasting the show, the top brass were practically losing their minds. They had no clue how the show would perform going forward or how audiences would react once it ended.
Great ratings were normally a blessing for a network—but these numbers were so absurd, they felt ominous.
The general public didn't know the ending, but Yunteng TV, as the first-run broadcaster, had access to the unreleased episodes. The highest-level execs had already seen them—after all, shows had to pass content review first.
But even at this stage, the audience response in Great Zhou was already wildly intense.
What would happen once the Human...Orange Juice—ahem, 'Human Instrumentality Project'—was fully revealed?
The station execs had their worries.
They genuinely admired Jing Yu's creativity—few dramas could be this surreal and still dominate the ratings.
It balanced commercial appeal and artistic ambition.
But the deeper the abstraction, the harder it was for viewers to grasp. If, in the coming weeks, audiences decided that the Human Instrumentality Project was the moment the show "jumped the shark"...
Would the station get flamed off the internet?
These were the thoughts keeping the Yunteng TV execs up at night.