Chapter 20

My eyes are going to fall out.

The work itself was not difficult, but if he inserted terrain incorrectly, the maps would appear broken when executed later.

That meant he had to constantly focus on both the map and the monitor, which strained his eyes terribly.

And because the workload was enormous, after spending three straight days doing nothing but that, his eyes genuinely hurt.

Still, after somehow finishing everything and finally running the map and exploring through it, Ras felt immensely satisfied.

“This is ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠fun even just wandering around.”

Although she was technically checking for errors, Pana clearly looked like she was genuinely enjoying herself.

Land of Adventure had also used a scrolling system like this, but the scale here felt completely different.

Of course, besides the scale itself, there was also the novelty of movement speed changing depending on wind direction and wind speed.

And later, once systems like ship operation management were added ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠— food consumption pressure, fatigue from long voyages, the risk of ships being damaged by typhoons — the feeling of truly adventuring by sea would become even stronger.

Though before that, he still needed to implement information such as regional wind patterns, ocean currents, and typhoon-prone areas.

Thinking about the long road ahead made Ras sigh automatically.

Whew...

Ras had debated somewhat over whether to create explorable city interiors.

Even back when he played Uncharted Waters II, he often wondered whether they were truly necessary.

Since the sea served as the main stage, city exploration often disrupted immersion, and because there were not many facilities to place, it was difficult to make each city feel truly distinctive no matter how they were arranged.

And if he had to create hundreds of cities like that, not only would it be exhausting for the developers, but players themselves might eventually become bored.

So in the end, he decided to replace ports with illustrations instead.

Still, using only a single illustration would feel lazy, so he planned to create several different types and assign them according to region and race.

Once the cities were decided, he began filling them with systems one by one.

He added markets and programmed the trade system.

Ports handled supply management.

Docks allowed players to buy and sell used ships and construct new vessels.

Taverns provided information gathering, recruitment of talented individuals, and sailor recruitment.

Government offices gave out quests.

Beyond that, he placed ruins and relics throughout various regions.

The capitals of nations contained royal castles, while certain cities featured special facilities tied to events and quests.

At this point, the overall framework finally felt mostly complete.

There was still an enormous amount left to do — polishing graphical details, adding characters, lore, stories, events, and quests — but after spending two full months charging forward nonstop, Ras decided it was finally time to slow down slightly.

Though “slowing down” did not actually mean resting.

There were still tasks he had started before development began.

...I’ll deal with this later.

The moment Ras sat at his desk, his eyes immediately landed on the towering stack of submitted scenarios.

He picked one up and attempted to start reading, but seeing the sheer amount piled high enough to block his view completely killed his motivation, so he set it back down and postponed it.

He appreciated that so many people had shown interest and applied, but perhaps because they did not properly understand what a game scenario was supposed to be, most applicants submitted thick novel-like manuscripts instead.

And with around twenty submissions like that, the desk had become literally covered in stacks of paper.

In contrast, the graphics card development recruitment had received a cold response.

Ras had expected it would be difficult to find people, so he constantly checked for replies to avoid missing even a single contact.

So far, however, there had been absolutely no ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠meaningful results.

There were a few people who expressed interest, but none possessed the actual ability to develop anything.

Still, Ras had approached this as a long-term project from the beginning.

He was not especially disappointed and simply decided to keep waiting.

Next came recruiting programmers.

He monitored those applications regularly as well.

So far, he had invited two applicants to the office for interviews.

One lacked ability entirely, while the other had absolutely no interest in games, so he rejected both.

Development was not something fueled purely by enjoyment.

But in Ras’s opinion, games were not easy enough for unmotivated people to create properly.

Of course, not all coding required creativity, so handling simple tasks probably would not matter.

Still, he did not want to hire an entire employee just for repetitive labor.

More honestly, he simply preferred maintaining a small elite team filled only with motivated people.

Ras began reading through the résumés Diska had organized.

Though “reading through them” sounded grander than reality.

There were only three in total.

That represented the entirety of the previous week’s applications.

Unlike Korea, this world had very few people capable of coding at all, and among those, even fewer wanted to work at a game company.

So the situation was unavoidable.

Another one. Someone promising they’ll definitely work hard no matter what.

The first résumé belonged to a university student majoring in biology who was preparing to graduate and claimed he was confident he could succeed at anything.

Ras had already encountered this type when recruiting graphic designers earlier.

Back then, he vaguely thought such people were simply overflowing with motivation.

Now he understood what kind of people they actually were.

They simply applied blindly to everything.

It was not entirely fair to say they were automatically unsuitable, but programming required specialized technical skill, making people like this inappropriate for the role.

The next applicant was unusually a Lizardman.

He had graduated from a computer science department and even possessed two years of experience working at a related company called Excel Soft.

Still, Ras did not particularly want to hire him.

Not because the turquoise-eyed lizard face in the résumé frightened him.

Rather, the self-introduction clearly revealed that the applicant had absolutely no interest in games.

“I don’t know much about games, but I can handle programming reasonably well, so I’ll work hard.”

Objectively, it sounded harmless enough.

But applying to a company without even bothering to understand what games were made it feel as though he was looking down on the industry.

And perhaps because Ras already viewed him negatively, the fact that the man wanted to leave an established company just to join a game company he did not even care about also felt suspicious.

If Ras truly had no alternatives, maybe he would have considered him.

But for now, he set that résumé aside as well.

The final applicant was a computer science student.

Not even a graduate — just a second-year university student.

At first, Ras wondered whether the applicant expected him to wait until graduation, but when he moved on to the attached self-introduction, the very first line immediately caught his attention.

It stated that the applicant was a huge fan of Land of Adventure.

Here we go again.

Ras smiled bitterly.

He had already seen several similar applicants before.

Thankfully, they genuinely seemed deeply moved by Land of Adventure, but they possessed passion without actual development ability.

Is today another failure? Maybe I should just call in that Lizardman after all.

With expectations already lowered, Ras continued reading while smiling wryly.

Then he realized the contents differed somewhat from what he had anticipated.

The applicant, named Garazt, attended Lasbetti University in the eastern Republic of Smite and had loved science fiction since childhood.

Space, robots, aliens...

He loved anything related to speculative science fiction.

But after reading a novel titled Perfect World during middle school, he became especially fascinated by virtual reality.

Perfect World argued that humanity’s endless competition stemmed from shortages of material resources.

While such competition had driven growth, it had also caused countless tragedies.

According to the novel, monopolization by the upper classes worsened resource scarcity, while physical limitations caused wasteful resource loss that ultimately restricted humanity’s progress.

The story followed a scientist named Marton who designed a perfect virtual reality world and ruled over it personally.

Through maintaining competition while creating more rational resource distribution, he dreamed of elevating humanity itself into a higher existence.

Garazt sympathized somewhat with the purpose behind virtual reality.

But more than that, he simply loved the concept itself.

The phrase “new world” appealed to him.

The idea of achieving and experiencing things impossible in reality fascinated him even more.

Quite simply, he became obsessed.

Naturally, that obsession led him to think seriously about how virtual reality might someday become real.

And in his opinion, computers represented the key possibility.

So he entered a computer science department under the justification of learning advanced technology and pursuing that dream.

But once he actually began studying seriously, he discovered that modern computers were far too weak.

He did not completely lose motivation, but he often wondered just how many years it would take before such dreams could even be attempted.

Then he ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠heard about a game called Land of Adventure.

As a computer science major, he had at least some interest in games, even if not deeply.

So after hearing classmates endlessly rave about it, he decided to try it himself.

...This is virtual reality!

And there, he saw the world he had always dreamed of.

The graphics were crude and far removed from reality.

There were no spoken voices, only rough text and occasional beeping sounds.

Yet once he became immersed and allowed the game to guide him, Garazt clearly felt another world existing beyond the monitor.

At that moment, he realized the true potential of games.

He became completely captivated by both Land of Adventure and its creator, Epex Ras.

Afterward, while enjoying the game, he began studying and thinking about how something like this could possibly be created.

And he quickly realized it was not easy.

Coding itself was manageable.

But graphics? Those felt completely impossible to replicate alone.

So he started thinking he would either need companions who could draw well or eventually earn enough money to establish a company himself.

Then, several months later, he happened to spot a recruitment notice on the university bulletin board.

And there, he saw Ras’s name.

He immediately felt this was his chance.

If he joined a company making games like this, he could begin creating games immediately.

And if he learned beside a pioneer like Ras, it would surely help tremendously when creating his own projects someday.

So he returned home immediately and wrote his application.

“Congratulations. You have passed the document screening process.”

When he later received the acceptance letter at his dormitory, Garazt shouted with joy.

Not only because he would finally meet Epex Ras, but because it felt like he had taken another step closer toward his dream.

Through Garazt’s introduction letter, Ras realized that the applicant possessed deep understanding of Land of Adventure.

The résumé also revealed considerable programming study experience, several simple game projects, and even ambitions of eventually creating games approaching true virtual reality.

For the first time, Ras genuinely felt he had finally found someone suitable for a game company.

So he decided that if the interview confirmed Garazt truly knew how to code, he would hire him immediately.

“Excuse me... Is this Meta Soft?”

Diska had been casually cleaning when someone unexpectedly entered the office.

Since visitors were extremely rare here, he instinctively became tense.

But after noticing the other person looked equally nervous, he relaxed again.

Then he remembered hearing earlier that a job applicant would be visiting today.

“Ah, yes. Please come in.”

“Um... where is the president?”

Garazt could see multiple people inside the office, but since he could not tell who the president was, he asked quietly.

Following the direction Diska pointed, his eyes finally met Ras’s.

His first impression was that Ras looked astonishingly young — almost childishly so.

But strangely, it did not feel negative at all.

If anything, he thought that a genius capable of creating such games actually suited this image far better than some older man.

“Welcome.”

Ras quietly observed the applicant for a moment before smiling and greeting him as he approached.

The immediate polite bow left Ras with the impression that at least this was not someone rude or ill-mannered.

“Hello! My name is Garazt!”

After stepping closer, the young man bowed and introduced himself again.

Since he claimed to be a fan, the enthusiasm certainly showed.