By mid-November, episodes 7 and 8 of 'Attack on Titan' had aired.
These episodes leaned more into dialogue and world-building than action.
But one character stood out in both:
Levi.
Especially the iconic courtroom scene, where he kicked Eren with that sharp, elegant, and ruthlessly precise technique—a perfect recreation of the "noblewoman's kick" from the original.
Eren was left utterly dazed.
Naturally, the scene sparked massive discussion across fan communities the moment it aired.
That said, 'Attack on Titan' had already reached maximum hype. Scenes like these were great for fan engagement, but they weren't pushing ratings higher anymore.
Two months had passed since the show's premiere. Initially labeled as "shock-blood bait," it had since won over even skeptics with its deep worldbuilding and tight plot.
Its trajectory in the Great Zhou had closely mirrored Jing Yu's original timeline.
If nothing unexpected happened next, the upcoming Female Titan Arc, the betrayal by Reiner and Bertolt, and Eren's brief activation of the Coordinate power would be the next big rating and word-of-mouth peaks.
Jing Yu knew well: at this point, 'Attack on Titan' had probably hit its ceiling—ratings hovering around 13%. The viewer market in Great Zhou simply wasn't big enough to go much higher.
Though he continued to monitor the show's performance, Jing Yu's attention was increasingly pulled elsewhere.
He was now shooting two films in which he starred. Meanwhile, the game department had begun pre-production on adaptations of several past hits.
Jing Yu was impatient by nature. But making a good game—even with plenty of funding—still took a year or more to yield results.
He expected a staggered rollout of game projects over the next 1–2 years, adapting his various IPs.
By now, Bluestar's departments were well-established. It wasn't easy to build elite teams purely by headhunting. Top-tier devs had to learn to work together over time.
And now, Jing Yu wasn't only looking at anime-based IPs.
Franchises like 'Yu-Gi-Oh!', 'Pokémon', 'Marvel', and 'Mario' were starting to catch his eye.
But those were massive undertakings.
He knew well: just because he could "redeem" those works didn't mean he could instantly recreate their original glory.
'Pokémon' was, after all, the most successful IP in his past life—bringing in hundreds of billions of dollars through games, anime, and merchandise. But that success came from Nintendo—a behemoth with decades of deep R&D, marketing strength, and global infrastructure.
Bluestar Media wasn't there yet.
Still, IP growth and company development went hand in hand. Big companies earned money from IPs, reinvested in development, grew stronger, and then repeated the cycle. That's how Nintendo became what it was.
If Jing Yu waited until Bluestar Media & Film became "big enough" to handle those franchises, it would never happen.
So, even while juggling filming and delegating older IP game development, he started personally drafting project plans for heavyweights like 'Pokémon'.
To the film and drama departments, it didn't feel like much had changed.
But the game division?
It was chaos.
Bluestar launched a full-scale talent acquisition spree.
HR was working overtime, using every contact and database available to poach top talent from Great Zhou and abroad—entire teams, if possible.
Jing Yu didn't have time to nurture new talent. The most efficient path was to recruit professionals already working together.
And since the internet boom had only started a few years ago in this world, the gaming industry hadn't yet hit its golden age. Developer salaries weren't outrageous—many major studios were valued in the tens or hundreds of millions. Compared to them, Bluestar wasn't that far behind.
Plus, Jing Yu's offer packages were... highly persuasive.
He was pitching low-risk projects based on proven IPs—far less risky than building new games from scratch. Many developers didn't reject him outright.
Bluestar Media even sent operations staff across the country to negotiate in person. Within days, several devs without binding contracts signaled clear interest in switching over.
Bluestar Media wasn't some startup.
Its record in film, TV, and even games (like 'Fate/Stay Night' selling over 10 million copies) gave it serious industry weight.
At the same time, as the game team scaled up, Jing Yu also looked beyond Great Zhou.
In the past, he'd only had enough resources to dominate domestically. Now, with his initial capital base built, it was time to expand globally.
Sure, Bluestar looked rich on paper. But if all of Jing Yu's pending investments launched at once, it would stretch the budget.
Cheng Lie supported the expansion plan—but cautiously.
He understood his role: a professional wingman helping Jing Yu soar. From a business POV, managing multiple fronts at once was risky. Many wealthy founders loved diversification—and many collapsed when one chain snapped.
But building slowly would take 15–20 years to make Bluestar Media a world-class entertainment giant.
Cheng Lie trusted Jing Yu's judgment. He had, after all, predicted every trend so far.
So Bluestar Media held an internal symbolic vote. The three major shareholders—Cheng Lie, Yu Youqing, and Xia Yining—each holding 8%, all approved Jing Yu's plan.
November ended quietly.
But across Bluestar's departments—nearly 1,000 employees—everyone could sense it:
Change was coming.
"The river warms before the spring is seen."
—
As December arrived, so did the final stretch of 'Ultraman Tiga'.
The show had aired for two seasons, and now it was time for its finale.
For the children of Great Zhou, this had been a fairytale-like half-year.
Before Jing Yu arrived, kids had nothing but bland programming and romance dramas they couldn't understand.
Now? Their childhood would forever include 'Ultraman Tiga'.
Its legacy would live on—year after year, generation after generation.
Jing Yu and Yunteng TV both treated the final arc with care. As December began, they began building hype for 'Ultraman's conclusion.
—
Meanwhile, in 'Attack on Titan', the plot advanced to the Survey Corps expedition arc—Eren and others joined their first mission beyond the wall.
Commander Erwin and Levi, using Eren as bait, aimed to lure out other Titan-shifters hiding among their own ranks.
The Female Titan, whose true motive was to capture Eren, made her debut—pushing the show into a new climax.
As usual, the atmosphere was grim. Survey Corps members were elites—not all could kill Titans, but most could last a few rounds.
And this arc placed a spotlight on Levi's squad.
Ordered to protect Eren, they found themselves targeted by the Female Titan during a chase involving all six squad members.
At one point, Eren faced a choice:
Should he transform and fight?
Or obey orders and run, trusting the squad to hold her off?
The show posed a haunting question:
"To avoid failure, do you sacrifice others?"
Choosing to flee would lower the risk to Eren—but increase it for Levi's squad.
In episode 10, Eren chose to trust the squad.
While Levi was away, the remaining three took on the Female Titan themselves.
And what a fight it was.
Three elites executing perfect teamwork—blinding her, slashing at her nape, preparing to land a killing blow.
For a moment, it looked like victory.
But—
The Female Titan healed one eye first, just enough to see.
"Whether you trust yourself or your comrades, no one can predict the outcome."
—Levi's earlier words echoed in Eren's mind.
He looked back—
The squad, who moments ago fought like legends—
now gone, torn to bloody pieces in the air.
One bitten in half.
Another crushed underfoot.
A third swatted into a tree like a bug.
Eren was paralyzed.
His "low-risk" choice had just killed them all.
What if he'd fought beside them instead?
Would the ending be different?
Wracked with guilt and fury, his eyes filled with hate.
"I'll kill you!!!"
Eren bit down on his arm—
A flash of yellow light burst forth—
The 15-meter Titan roared into existence once more.
Cue ending song.
Another legendary cliffhanger.
But the audience? Still frozen in shock.
"No... not Petra! I thought she was a main character!"
"Respect to Levi's squad. I didn't like him at first, but now I love this character."
"Levi's going to be devastated... his whole squad's dead."
"Ten weeks of 'Attack on Titan'—I thought I was numb. But this... this broke me."
"Eren wanted to fight with them. It was they who told him to run…"
"This is true life-and-death decision-making. Blinding both eyes should've bought them time, but she just healed one. Brutal."
"That hit too hard."
"Honestly, every side character is smart. The choreography? Insane. I was stunned watching it play out."
"Guys, what was that music when Eren transformed?! I got goosebumps."
"I'm emotionally wrecked. Another cliffhanger like this?!"
"Ending on a mid-fight cliffhanger again?! This is insane!"