Free Web NovelChapter 210: Chapter 189: Seeing Off the Drama Guild (Part 2)
But the thought of the upcoming tours, one after another, was both a hassle and exhausting.
The premiere was an act of artistic expression. Every performance after that was just a job.
’And a job could be incredibly dull.’
Alright, he admitted it. He was a fickle old man who just wanted to keep staging new scripts.
He took out a few tea leaves and started chewing on them to wake himself up.
It worked better than drinking it.
Usually, at a time like this, he would have lit his pipe.
But just like the lawyer in *Prosecution Witness*, his doctor had also forbidden him from smoking his pipe.
He had to meet Zog later; he couldn’t fall asleep in front of the Dragon investor.
According to a message from Zog, there were more scripts of this caliber waiting for the troupe.
Grandpa Galina was skeptical.
The script for *Prosecution Witness*, even when compared to every script he had ever seen in his entire life, was easily in the top echelon.
’How could there be so many more of the same caliber?’
He figured Zog was just making empty promises again. Everyone in the company knew you could barely get a straight word out of the boss.
Unless the author, Agatha Christie, were to show up.
But Zog had said she was already dead.
Grandpa Galina deeply regretted not being able to meet the writer who had helped the New Drama Guild pull through its crisis.
As a playwright himself, he was in a better position to recognize Agatha’s talent.
So, beyond the missed opportunity to meet her, what he lamented even more was that the author hadn’t left behind more work.
Otherwise, with her talent, she would have surely made her mark on literary history.
Grandpa Galina left the stage. While the rest of the troupe was still celebrating wildly, the old chairman needed to plan for the New Drama Guild’s long-term future.
When he arrived at one of the theater’s reception rooms, Zog was already waiting inside.
There was also an unfamiliar face.
"Mr. Zhuoge."
"Congratulations on a successful premiere," Zog said. "The reception was fantastic. I feel like it’s only a matter of time before the New Drama Guild replaces the old Drama Guild."
"That’s mainly thanks to the script," Grandpa Galina replied modestly.
"After you’ve performed *Prosecution Witness* a few times, you should stop," Zog said suddenly.
"What?" Grandpa Galina couldn’t understand this sudden twist from Zog.
One moment he was congratulating them on a successful performance, and the next he was telling them to stop.
"I’m not pulling my investment. I just have a more important task for you."
Zog explained hurriedly.
He saw the old man’s pupils dilate; another shock like that and the old fellow might just keel over.
"Like I was saying, the New Drama Guild needs to push that old, conservative organization into obsolescence. So, you need to start preparing to expand. You can’t remain just a single troupe."
"That won’t be easy," Grandpa Galina replied.
As the former honorary Chairman of the Drama Guild, he had no real power, but he was still very familiar with its business model.
After the implementation of the copyright system, the Drama Guild had become its biggest beneficiary.
They had registered the copyrights for nearly every play under the organization’s name.
If other troupes wanted to perform those classic plays, they had to join the Guild and pay exorbitant licensing fees.
This had become the Drama Guild’s single largest source of revenue.
A troupe can’t just endlessly churn out new works. Even if they could, there’s no way to guarantee the quality.
That’s why they have to stage classic works from the past.
New troupes also had to start by performing classics to build a reputation. Only then would audiences come to see their original works.
The Drama Guild used this to establish a de facto monopoly over the theater market.
Nearly every troupe was a Guild member, and the copyrights to any works created by those members also belonged to the Guild.
That was how it grew bigger and bigger.
Many in the industry had harbored resentment over this for a long time, but while they dared to be angry, they didn’t dare to speak out. After all, survival was more important than dignity.
And if a troupe dared to not join the Guild, stage its own work, and actually found success, the Drama Guild had a counter-strategy for that, too.
They would launch a public relations campaign to drag the small troupe’s reputation through the mud until no audience would see them. Once the troupe was on the brink of collapse, the Guild would acquire it for a low price.
They had perfected this routine.
If a rebellious troupe dared to take the Guild to court, it made no difference.
The Guild would be happy to demonstrate how money could make even a legal dream team do its bidding.
Therefore, the only way Grandpa Galina could imagine to possibly take down the Drama Guild was to suddenly produce a massive number of new, exceptionally high-quality scripts.
These scripts could be given to troupes willing to break free from the Guild’s control, giving them the means to survive.
It sounded simple, but the problem was obvious: where could you possibly get that many high-caliber scripts?
Before Grandpa Galina could even voice the question, Zog answered with his actions.
He brought out a Treasure Chest Monster.
The Treasure Chest Monster opened its huge mouth and spat out several thick stacks of scripts.
"These are...?" Grandpa Galina asked, uncertain.
"Scripts. What else could they be?"
Grandpa Galina’s first assumption was that Zog had just bought up a bunch of ordinary scripts from unknown writers.
They might even be student projects from a drama academy—things that could barely be called scripts, being far too amateurish and difficult to actually stage.
Then he noticed the author’s name on the first script.
It was the very same Agatha Christie he’d been thinking so much about.
"But... isn’t she dead?"
"She is," Zog said. "But who said she only left one work behind when she was alive?"
He then pointed to the scripts on the table. "This whole stack is Agatha’s work. That one next to it is Quinn’s, and that one is Carl’s.
"These are all suspense thrillers. But there are other genres, too. This is Ibsen, that’s Shaw, and those over there are by Chekov."
