I Forged the Myth of the Ancient Overlords
Chapter 241 - 241 240. Examiner_1

Chapter 241: 240. Examiner_1 Chapter 241: 240. Examiner_1 The master copy of a film is usually a high-definition Blu-ray disc, and nowadays some are also uploaded to cloud servers in lossless format. Once the master copy is submitted for review, the film bureau will grant the dragon mark that permits the film to be screened in cinemas. Only then can the film be shown in theaters.

The film and television censorship standards in this world are quite broad; horror, gore, violence, and similar content aren’t strictly blocked, except for certain special and sensitive themes. For most other content, it can be said to be a bloom of a hundred flowers.

The work of Mo Guangyuan at the film bureau was plain and unglamorous, just reviewing films.

Some people might think that reviewing films is cool, that one can watch unreleased movies ahead of time, and that watching movies is the job—easy and relaxing.

But in reality, when a hobby turns into a job, sometimes it really is torture.

First of all, there are very many films submitted for review each year, given that the audience for cinema releases is much larger, including many people who are not very internet savvy and only watch movies in cinemas.

Next, getting the dragon mark to screen in theaters means you’re considered a cut above the rest, more high-end than the films that only play on video streaming websites, and afterwards, you can also go online to continue earning a wave of money.

Finally, the threshold for making a film is now so low that at the very least, a few hundred thousand yuan can be spent to hire some film academy students, and a film can be made in just three to five days.

This has led to the film bureau’s review department receiving far more movies than the general public sees.

Watching a good movie is a pleasure; watching a junk movie is torture.

The key point is, Mo Guangyuan couldn’t fast forward!

Leaving aside the excellently produced films, the worse the film, the more likely it is to have problems in some detail, to film things that shouldn’t be filmed, and to show images that shouldn’t appear—all those are things that need to be reviewed.

So, when facing a terrible film, he not only couldn’t fast forward, but sometimes he also had to play it in slow motion to watch carefully.

Another point is that there’s more than just him reviewing; most of the films are assigned randomly. If he’s unlucky, he might watch an entire month’s worth of poorly made rural-flavored romantic comedies, with plots only he would find upsetting and without any repeats.

It’s torture.

When Mo Guangyuan first joined the industry, he was excited at the prospect of seeing those films ahead of others and often volunteered for overtime to review films.

Now, he leaves on time and absolutely never works overtime. When he’s off, Mo Guangyuan is so lazy he won’t even go to the cinema, preferring to lie in bed and waste his life away.

Life had ground down his edges.

This story tells everyone that sometimes turning a hobby into a profession isn’t such a good thing.

He worked normally until the afternoon today, after watching an urban melodrama about a love story with a female lead who looked almost like the husky raised downstairs, his mental and physical health were both devastated.

After finishing the ending and writing down his review notes, Mo Guangyuan picked up his thermos cup filled with goji berry and jujube tea, twisted off the lid, blew gently, and took a small sip.

He, who had one more year until turning thirty, had already started to focus on health preservation.

After chatting with a colleague for a moment, Mo Guangyuan checked the time.

“Looks like it’s almost time to get off work, just find something and watch the beginning,” he said.

With half an hour left until quitting time, neither too long nor too short, it wouldn’t do to loaf around the office for that half hour; getting caught by the boss wouldn’t look good. Mo Guangyuan would usually pick out some random film that seemed unlikely to get the dragon mark, watch the first half-hour, pause it, and come back the next day to watch the rest.

After all, these were all disposable films; it wasn’t necessary to follow the plot closely. Pausing and then watching again, you could easily pick up where you left off!

With a sweep of the mouse, Mo Guangyuan saw a folder.

“The Madman’s Mouth.”

“This looks familiar…” he said.

Mo Guangyuan felt the name was familiar and upon checking the details, discovered it was a work by a director named Lu Ban.

After some searching, Mo Guangyuan learned that this was from the director and lead actor of last year’s box office champion film.

“Impressive,” he said, without a trace of feeling.

Truth be told, movies were just work to him now.

He had lost his joy.

This story tells us that sometimes, you might not truly enjoy your hobbies.

Common people, weary from work, could still play games or watch movies after work for leisure.

But if your job is to play games or watch movies, then these activities become an extension of work after hours, easily leading to a loss of interest. Consequently, you lose the means to relieve fatigue, become increasingly repressed, and eventually erupt.

Of course, there are definitely people in the world who truly enjoy their hobbies becoming their work, and continue to enjoy them even after work, but Mo Guangyuan is just a common person.

No matter how high the box office receipts, he wouldn’t get a share of the money. To him, watching a film, whether excellent or not, meant having to fill out a review afterwards – it was work. Mo Guangyuan hadn’t truly enjoyed a movie in a long time.

“Take a look, then.”

With such a mindset, Mo Guangyuan clicked play.

After the usual sponsorship messages at the start of the film, Mo Guangyuan saw a burly man holding a gun, stumbling forward in a dark alley as if being chased by something.

The camera imitated his point of view, sometimes looking back, sometimes to the sides. Though it was only a brief glance, it still allowed one to clearly see that something seemed to be writhing in the shadows.

Just a few shots had completely captured Mo Guangyuan’s attention.

The pen in his hand, which he had been using to jot down review notes, stopped, and he watched the screen intently.

The man on the screen was so tense that it seemed to spill out of him; his eyes were bloodshot as if he hadn’t slept for days, and he was muttering some indistinct words that added to the creepiness.

“What’s chasing him?”

Mo Guangyuan was curious.

The camera often lingered behind the man, but there was only the dark, filthy alley, with moonlight shedding down and not bringing light. Instead, it made the shadows even denser.

Mo Guangyuan felt as though he had returned to his childhood when he once played with peers until late at night in his hometown. Walking back home alone along the night road – the countryside was pitch-black then, without street lights, and he could hear his own heartbeat. Walking home in the gloom, Mo Guangyuan had trembled with fear and for a long time afterwards, he couldn’t dare to sleep with the lights off.

This pure darkness, the fear in a claustrophobic and cramped space, stems from instinct.

Slap –

As the man hurriedly fled, a hand suddenly pressed down on his shoulder.

Mo Guangyuan was startled by this unexpected change and shivered slightly.

Luckily, the one who grabbed his shoulder was another man who looked like a gangster from the 20s or 30s, both armed with guns.

“What’s chasing you?”

The newly appeared man asked warily.

“It’s… those things, those things, right there in the shadows…”

The first man explained in a hoarse voice but suddenly, he stopped.

In the frame, within the shadows on the clothes of the newly appeared man, some writhing monster seemed on the verge of emerging.

Pop pop pop –

The man who appeared first immediately fired his gun, attempting to kill the monsters.

The gunshots shattered the silence of the night and made the movie, which had been suppressing its noise, suddenly become clamorous.

Startled by the gunshots, Mo Guangyuan’s shoulders shook once more.

“That’s why I hate reviewing horror films; they always like to jolt you like this.”

Muttering to himself, he glanced aside to shift his attention.

But then, he suddenly realized… in the shadowy corner of his desk… there seemed to be something writhing!