CHAPTER 334: CHAPTER 334: MOON SOLO COPYRIGHT

Chen Yiyang has been in France for almost a month this time.

Upon returning to the country, he naturally has a pile of pending matters to address.

However, it seems that Jianshou Intelligence decided to give him a break for being away so long, providing a valuable piece of information.

Today’s intelligence, a valuable copyright: A South Korean comic company is looking to sell the adaptation rights to a comedy comic, and now is the chance to snag a bargain.

Contact information of relevant personnel is attached on the second page.

After glancing over the contact information, Chen Yiyang tossed it to his assistant, asking them to get in touch first.

Later, Chen Yiyang went to see Yang Chengru.

"The land has been approved, take a look at the location," Yang Chengru said, showing Chen Yiyang the planning map.

"The location is a bit remote."

"This is an emerging area under planning, and the government hopes you can take the lead in its development."

"Then develop real estate?" Chen Yiyang joked.

"Not at all. We are more hopeful that you can lead in establishing a new industrial park and commercial area, allowing the government to benefit from tax revenues. The era of only selling land has passed."

"Let’s hope so," Chen Yiyang nodded.

However, Chen Yiyang hadn’t expected Lin’an City Government to approve such a large piece of land in a prosperous city center for him anyway.

"And regarding the construction teams, there’s no prescribed ones, right?" Chen Yiyang continued to ask.

"I don’t handle such matters," Yang Chengru replied. "You can find your own construction and design teams, as long as there are no major issues, I can approve them."

"That works," Chen Yiyang gestured.

In reality, Chen Yiyang quickly regretted it.

Because after his meeting with Yang Chengru, the news about him building an office building quickly spread.

Owners of various state-owned and private engineering companies started finding ways to contact Chen Yiyang, hoping to have a meal with him.

The real estate market has been sluggish these years, and the civil engineering bosses haven’t had work.

Once the news of Chen Yiyang’s big construction project spread, CEOs of several large state-owned construction companies began reaching out to meet with Chen Yiyang.

However, Chen Yiyang didn’t have time to deal with this matter yet.

A long-lost junior accountant came to discuss the copyright purchase with him.

"The South Korean company intends to sell adaptation rights for a comic named ’Moon Solo.’ It’s a sci-fi comedy comic, so the cost of adapting it into a film is quite high.

After failing to find any local film companies interested in an adaptation in South Korea, they have turned their attention to domestic buyers."

Chen Yiyang reviewed the resources found by the junior accountant while flipping through the comic.

It’s actually quite good.

"The quality of this comic is decent. Isn’t the movie industry in South Korea quite developed? How come no company picked it up?"

From Chen Yiyang’s impression, South Korea managed to produce a big-budget film every few years.

Logically speaking, adapting this sci-fi comedy comic shouldn’t be a problem.

"The Korean film industry is almost wiped out by Netflix, they don’t dare to make a big investment film without Netflix’s funding."

"What’s the situation?" Chen Yiyang didn’t quite understand.

"In the Korean film market, only nine films broke even last year, and the first half of this year was even worse, with not a single film turning a profit."

With these statistics from the junior accountant, Chen Yiyang immediately realized that the Korean film market was indeed in a dire situation.

It should be noted that even though most domestic films released every year are not great, they usually can still manage to make some money.

A large number of industry workers also remain employed.

However, in South Korea’s film market now, it’s challenging for local films to even break even, forcing many industry workers to switch careers.

"What does this have to do with Netflix?" Chen Yiyang continued to ask.

Netflix Video is a platform that started by renting DVDs.

Like the three video website giants in the country, Netflix not only broadcasts film and TV shows but also heavily invests in producing its own content.

Chen Yiyang couldn’t understand why the junior accountant said Netflix destroyed the Korean film market.

"Boss, imagine if a video platform in China monopolized the broadcasting rights for online film and TV shows, and this video platform was able to avoid paying taxes by commissioning productions.

And since this video platform is foreign, its revenue wouldn’t return to support the relevant institutions.

What would this platform do?"

"Naturally, it would undercut the income of related practitioners, reduce their profits, and ignore talent development," Chen Yiyang thought about these consequences even with his eyes closed.

Regarding the domestic video platforms, without even having a monopoly yet, they already control the market tacitly, adding various VIP memberships.

If a monopoly happens, wouldn’t it be catastrophic?

Netflix is currently in this situation in South Korea.

Initially, when Netflix entered the Korean market, many Korean film and TV stars found that starring in Netflix shows quickly gained them global fame, leading to global fashion brands offering ads and endorsements.

As a result, a large amount of relevant talent in Korea started producing shows for Netflix.

Netflix, on the other hand, avoided related taxes through commissioned productions.

After successfully monopolizing the Korean online broadcasting market, Netflix chose not to increase revenues through membership fees but instead opted to lower the earnings of actors and production companies.

Due to Netflix’s monopolistic position, the South Korean film industry practitioners, having no ability to resist, naturally complied obediently.

The ratings of South Korea’s big-budget dramas in recent years have been quite good. But once the company’s financial reports come out, they show losses.

Why? Because Netflix stopped giving money.

Not only did it stop giving money, but it also used its investments in Japan as leverage to suppress all deals for Korean shows.

Relying solely on TV stations and the film market, it’s hard for many Korean dramas to recoup their costs, necessitating the sale of online copyrights to make some money back.

Many domestic flops are the same.

If a movie’s box office performance is lackluster after release, it can sell its online broadcast rights to recuperate losses.

Especially some critically acclaimed but low box office masterpieces, which can expand their influence online, aiding the production of sequels and second installments.

But with Netflix, all of this is impossible.

Netflix is no longer in its generous spending phase; now it exploits its position to endlessly squeeze mature talent in Korea, ignoring future talent development.

Some prominent Korean directors can’t hold it in and have come forward to call for change.

But it’s useless.

Netflix is focused on profits and financial reports, not caring about the survival of the Korean film and TV market itself.

"If the price is right, then let’s go ahead and buy the film adaptation rights," Chen Yiyang said, looking at the comedy comic, suddenly thinking of Shen Teng.