Chapter 114

CHAPTER 114

Manager Han of Stream Korea, the perennial runner-up, was revising a report.

"We lost again."

Surface was an absolute giant that monopolized the virtual reality market.

With overwhelming technology, capital, and the advantage of being the first mover, they had effortlessly pushed aside the traditional powerhouses.

Still, no company could consume every market.

"Ah, those damned antitrust laws."

That was America for you.

No matter how massive a corporation became, if it stepped out of line, the entire country might move to break it apart.

So they had to maximize consumer rights and limit monopoly profits to only the most essential areas.

In every other aspect, they had to operate carefully enough to avoid attracting criticism.

"Which basically makes us the abandoned child. Sigh."

If Surface had simply restricted the technology so that VR games couldn't be made without distributing through them, there would be no need for this constant headache and fierce competition.

"Still, I do appreciate that they have money. If they didn't..."

Manager Han.

It wouldn't be an exaggeration to say that he held influence over the fate of exclusive titles sold only through that platform.

That was possible because platform competition revolved around exclusive games.

"Who creates the better game, who supports it better, who launches it better, who promotes it better. That's our job."

Manager Han genuinely loved his work.

He was someone who truly loved games.

Because of that, he believed distributors had a responsibility to help developers experiment with new ideas for the advancement of the industry.

The kind of person who tended to support indie game companies.

"The results still aren't great this time."

The company had plenty of money and a high reinvestment rate, allowing him to support numerous games his own way.

But if he wanted to prove that his approach was right, he needed to beat Crown and deliver results.

The title released a week ago had failed to do that, and so had most of his projects thus far.

"Monster's game launches today, right?"

Two Heads are Better.

A game whose budget had only been secured after countless meetings and rounds of persuasion.

Manager Han clasped his hands together.

Just then, his phone rang.

He frowned.

Should he answer?

Or not?

[Assistant Manager Kim - Crown]

At this point, after release, all he could do was pray for the game's success.

The caller was his college friend and an employee at Crown, their rival company.

Sigh.

"Hello?"

—Hey! Hahaha. Couldn't miss Super Week, could I?

"Yeah. Seung-cheol. Things going well lately?"

—You're asking when you already know.

"Haha. More or less. That game your company released a week ago did pretty well. Congratulations."

Super Week, my ass.

It was simply an empty period after a major battle event ended and there were no trending topics.

The one time package games naturally sold better.

And during that period, his friend's company had released a series of predictably successful titles.

How irritating.

"Really? Congratulations."

—That one? I was involved from the planning stage all the way through launch.

And yet...

Why did he sound depressed?

What was this?

He was clearly bragging.

—Yeah. If things go well, I might even get promoted to department manager.

There was a brief hesitation in his voice.

Manager Han didn't feel any bitterness.

Logic told him he should.

But his body wasn't reacting.

So he answered half-heartedly.

"Congratulations."

Just like before.

His voice sounded more like there goes my chance at becoming department manager.

Then—

—That co-op game. Isn't two-player co-op kind of a barrier?

Seriously.

The exact same concern his superior had raised when rejecting funding.

And now it was coming out of his friend's mouth.

—Thanks.

Did he lose money gambling or something?

"So why exactly did you call?"

—And mixing horror into the opening? Hmm. Feels kind of awkward, doesn't it?

—Oh, I saw the game your company released today. The two-player co-op one.

How did he already know that?

The tutorial had only just finished.

The game hadn't even been out that long.

He'd definitely been investigating.

Which was only natural.

After all, they had disagreed since college.

And those disagreements had only intensified once they entered the same industry and ended up doing the same kind of work.

"The game's good. You'll see."

"What?"

—I saw that streamer advertising it. Congratulations on landing him.

—Yeah, that's true. But more importantly...

Ah.

At that moment, Manager Han understood why his friend had called.

Did he call just to pick a fight because we got the streamer?

"Thanks."

If not—

—From what I heard, you paid almost the highest rate possible. Did you have some other secret to signing him?

Market intelligence?

That was one thing he could answer confidently.

"No. He just thought the game looked fun."

If a topic someone wasn't interested in reached the top ten on a gaming forum, an ordinary user could simply ignore it.

Industry people couldn't.

They had to monitor every post to keep up with trends.

Which meant there was probably no group more aware of the appearance of an exceptionally talented streamer than people like them.

Well, maybe the For the Alliance player base too.

A faint smile appeared on Manager Han's face.

"You guys wanted him too, didn't you?"

—Huh? Well...

"I heard you matched the maximum offer too."

Incidentally, Manager Han had done some investigating of his own.

—That's true. But we didn't go any higher. Landing a streamer doesn't magically solve everything. You know that too, right?

That was definitely the reason for the call.

Annoyingly enough, he wasn't wrong.

Even a streamer capable of generating attention could rarely save a game.

Streamer marketing was ultimately just a way to increase awareness.

For a game to become a massive hit, it needed buzz.

And for a game to become the kind of topic everyone talked about—

As the industry liked to say, that part was decided by heaven.

In other words—

—If signing streamers alone could make games explode in popularity, don't you think the top corporate streamers would be making several times more money than they already do? Heh. Don't you agree?

What his friend was really saying was simple.

You got that streamer?

That's nice, but it probably won't matter much.

Partner streamers.

A project that was starting to get mentioned more and more these days.

"Probably."

Manager Han nodded.

"Let's grab a meal sometime."

—Yeah. I'm hanging up.

—Honestly, that partner streamer thing is probably unnecessary too.

A very Korean way to end a phone call.

A dinner appointment? Yeah, right.

"Ah."

Manager Han glanced at the clock and began wrapping things up before heading out.

He actually did have a dinner appointment.

"Still, Crown has been paying a lot of attention to streamers lately. Strange that he'd say the opposite. Was that just his personal opinion?"

According to rumors, Crown was preparing some kind of partner program.

A project where streamers would receive various benefits, such as early access to advertise new releases, in exchange for agreeing not to play competing companies' exclusive titles for a certain period.

Whether streamers could create blockbuster hits or not, the streaming market had become enormous.

It was undoubtedly a market worth securing.

Stream Korea would eventually have to enter that competition as well.

"I wonder if the battle over securing streamers is going to get fierce. Or maybe the whole thing will fall apart."

Thinking it was still too early to tell, he called Monster's CEO.

"Hello?"

—Manager Han. I'm almost at your office.

"Haha. No need to rush, CEO. By the way, how's the game's reception? You're watching the sponsored stream, right? I just finished work, so I haven't been able to check."

—Yes. Um...

What?

Why did this guy sound depressed too?

"Haha. Don't worry too much."

What in the world was happening?

"Most games disappear quietly without ever becoming a topic of discussion. That's normal. But..."

A faint smile appeared on Manager Han's face.

They had something they believed in.

The true highlight of this game.

The chase sequence.

"It's going to do well. Trust me. After all..."

That chase sequence was genuinely terrifying.

—I'm not too worried either. Streamer Heavenly Demon will take care of it somehow.

"Hahaha... Then I'll see you in a bit."

Incidentally, in the past—

he had been a player from one of the great orthodox sects.

...

Ah.

Apparently he wasn't putting his faith in the game.

He was putting it in something else.

Joining the Demonic Cult, of all things.

Manager Han felt slightly disappointed.

Seo-jun spoke calmly.

"Well, it's not doing anything. It just left."

The grotesque doll that had been staring at them through the gap had vanished without a trace.

They hadn't even gotten a clear look at it.

Its face had been pressed so close that the lighting hadn't properly revealed its features.

Anyway.

Seo-jun turned and stared directly at Tae-woo.

"So how long is he going to stay like this?"

Meanwhile, Tae-woo remained completely motionless.

His thoughts were simple.

I'm screwed.

That was the first thing that came to mind after his brain restarted thirty seconds after shutting down.

The second thought was:

I let my guard down.

The developers had said the horror elements were in Chapter 1.

The part he'd assumed wasn't a big deal had probably been the section between the tutorial and Chapter 1.

People always said that if you were scared enough, you couldn't even scream—you just froze.

Today, Tae-woo experienced that firsthand.

As a result—

• Hello?
• Sir? Are you alive?
• Dude's frozen lol.
• I clearly heard him go "hup!" the moment the doll appeared lololol.
• Wait. Is he actually easy to scare?
• Come to think of it, he's never played horror games. Someone ask his boss.

The viewers pieced everything together like detectives solving a puzzle.

And Seo-jun stood there grinning, looking eager to hear what kind of excuse Tae-woo would come up with.

Tae-woo's eyes darted around before avoiding Seo-jun's gaze.

Damn it.

What kind of excuse was he supposed to make here?

His heart was still pounding.

When Tae-woo continued sitting there frozen, unable to think of anything to say, Seo-jun struck first.

"Oh, you're asking if this is a horror game? The developers did mention that the first chapter would have a bit of a horror atmosphere."

• Ahhh.
• Horror flavoring? Even better.
• Ooooh, the streamer's playing a horror game!
• Is the streamer a scaredy-cat?

"...What are you talking about?"

Tae-woo barely managed to force the words out while trying to move.

But perhaps because all the tension left his body at once—

he collapsed.

Thud.

"I don't get scared easily, but someone seems a little different."

• His body's creaking.
• Forget creaking, he straight-up collapsed lololol.
• Just how scary was it?! lololol.
• What do you mean "not true"?
• Every future punishment challenge is going to be a horror game lol. Coward.

There was no going back now.

More importantly—

Chapter 1 had only just begun.

The future looked bleak.

Even so—

"I'm telling you, that's not it."

If he admitted it now, he'd be forced into countless horror-game streams in the future.

So Tae-woo stubbornly held his ground.

• Getting startled? Acceptable.
• Freezing up? Acceptable.
• Legs giving out? Retirement-home tier lol.
• You're finished from now on lol.

Naturally, nobody believed him.

Tae-woo wiped his face in despair and imagined the future.

How many times would he be dragged into horror games now?

And how terrifying would they be?

That was what worried him the most.

Seriously.

Things suddenly popping out were insanely terrifying.

"Hey. If you're this scared, why'd you even take this sponsorship?"

Seo-jun said it as if it were already an established fact.

At that point, Tae-woo gave up and confessed.

"Because I didn't know! I didn't know it'd be this scary!"

• Tae-woo the Dragon lololol.
• Tae-jeongjae lololol.
• "I didn't know I'd be liberated this early!" lol.
• There are two holes, after all lol.

Seo-jun laughed together with the viewers for quite a while.

"So, is your heart okay?"

"It's not that bad."

"Then want to lead the way?"

The only path available was the dark corridor ahead.

They had already confirmed they couldn't enter the room through the metal grating.

"No."

"Then I found an empty box over there. Want to go take a look?"

"Nope. Not doing that either."

The chat exploded with:

Scared?

Scared?

Scared?

"No, if something jumps out again, I might actually die of a heart attack. No—I mean, that's not it. There's just no reason to look."

I see.

After laughing at him some more alongside the viewers, Seo-jun continued forward.

[What was that thing earlier?]

[No idea. Maybe the factory manager?]

[What? Even if we didn't get a good look, that doll wasn't supposed to look that scary. I definitely didn't draw it like that.]

[That's because you never finished drawing it.]

[Only because you kept making me redraw everything!]

Based on everything they'd learned so far—

"I think it's safe to say the two protagonists in this game are basically Tae-woo #1 and Tae-woo #2."

Developers who constantly fought with each other and never managed to establish a proper direction.

Eventually, their partnership collapsed.

And now they had entered an unfinished game to pay for their past mistakes.

"And it seems like all the blank spaces are being filled with things that weren't part of their original plans."

While Tae-woo remained shrunken and timid, Seo-jun casually chatted with the viewers as they walked through the corridor.

Then—

from beyond the darkness ahead,

something appeared.