Chapter Seventy-Four: The Comic Overlord’s Disdain

The Simpsons is not a children’s comic; rather, it holds immense social influence and can be considered a comic novel suitable for all ages. At this point in time, comic companies were all seeking change. Since the CCA demanded educational value, comics needed greater depth.

This was indeed the case. Apart from Marvel and DC, who still preferred pushing their characters aggressively, other comic companies were searching for new directions. From this moment on, American comics began to lose their way, blending with the satirical strips found in newspapers. While this shift produced some comics of remarkable substance, it also led the entire industry astray.

Don’t be fooled by Marvel’s impressive reputation; no matter what movie genre they produce, it turns to gold. Disney felt their fifty-billion-dollar purchase was a bargain. But did you know that Marvel introduced few new characters in the nineties? The characters you saw in 2008 had already existed since the eighties; after 2008, they were merely living off past glory.

It wasn’t only Marvel; DC suffered the same fate. The industry had veered off course, turning its attention to social issues and political topics.

What is the essence of comics?

Today's Americans couldn’t say for sure.

How can you abandon the joy comics bring to people?

Educational value?

Come on! If comic books are expected to shoulder all the educational burden, what’s left for schools and teachers?

Aside from The Simpsons, the Los Angeles branch had two other projects: Transformers and Cowboy Bebop.

Cowboy Bebop, in some ways, resembled Guardians of the Galaxy—a group of four and a dog, with similar story backgrounds. As a comic book, its achievements far surpassed Guardians of the Galaxy. It’s hard to fathom how the Japanese managed it.

One crucial point: the female lead in Guardians of the Galaxy was too unattractive; who knows how Star-Lord stomached it? If they had a child, it might even be blue-skinned.

A blue-blooded character would have been better. There was no Wesley at the time, so plagiarism wasn’t an issue, and the story backgrounds were different.

The Japanese got it right: handsome men, a comedic sidekick, and a perfectly designed female lead, though her figure bordered on outrageous.

The ambitions of the Japanese were vast; this comic was aimed at the global market. The name alone made this clear—it sounded foreign, yet the faces remained distinctly Japanese. The art style was not up to par, and William White had no intention of adopting it. He aimed to align the timeline with the Marvel Universe, just in case he acquired Marvel in the future; this IP would be an excellent addition.

Cowboy Bebop robbing Guardians of the Galaxy—that scenario would be fantastic. The space setting was already established, and this major IP had more branches than even Star Wars.

Marvel paid little attention to this so-called comic studio in Los Angeles, despite its considerable size—surpassing some established comic companies. Until they saw actual products, Marvel wouldn't care about the newcomer.

The comic industry was deep and treacherous; DC was on the brink of collapse. What could a new company possibly achieve?

William White had no intention of attracting attention. His main target wasn’t America. The distribution channels here could drive a new company insane, and then there was the damned review board.

William White felt those CCA bastards deserved to die. Why should they interfere with other people's planning? If they had the guts, they should start their own comic company—he’d bet they’d fail miserably.

It was the most tragic chapter in comic history: a review board made up of self-righteous individuals completely destroyed the future of American comics.

At this time, Japanese comic culture didn’t exist. The world was deliberately imitating America, and no one spoke of the “ninth art.” Comics were labeled as poisonous to youth.

Thanks to Stan Lee’s talents, Marvel dominated the industry. Every kind of superhero was essentially propaganda for mainstream American values.

As for the so-called Viking Pirates, industry insiders dismissed it as childish nonsense.

But most people accepted this view; they didn’t doubt William White’s storytelling ability.

Yet comics? Without a figure like Stan Lee, discussing comics was a waste of breath—just youthful nonsense.

The staff at the Los Angeles comic studio didn’t see it that way. Though most were newcomers, their ability to judge comics was not lacking.

According to the outline from the boss, this wasn’t blind development; he had long-term plans, with a focus not necessarily on the domestic market. Besides this Los Angeles studio, there were two other operations, both at least as large as this one.

To be fair, American comic companies were still quite arrogant. They paid little attention to William White’s arrangements. Compared to his software and film companies, his investment in comics was much greater. Once his plans were complete, even if he couldn’t rival Marvel at its peak, his scale would certainly not fall short of DC.

After making a fortune in the futures market, William White was flush with cash. He could proceed gradually, without rushing.

He had no intention of sticking to tradition. To him, contemporary comics were too crudely made—not only was the art style coarse, but the number of color pages was pitifully low.

You say printing costs are high?

They are, but the difference isn’t significant. Binding costs in America might be steep, but printing is just average.

Satirical comics might get by; black-and-white works are still readable. But for hot-blooded anime, it’s different. Unless you’re colorblind, you’ll always prefer color pages.

William White planned to shake up the comic industry. Since he was starting with a weekly comic magazine, he’d print it like a modern fashion magazine—he didn’t believe no one would support it.