Chapter 25

“And there are also people saying it’s too complicated.”

“Well, that’s true, but isn’t that part of its charm?”

There definitely were complaints that it was too complicated.

However, most of those complaints came from casual players.

And the sort of people trying to create games themselves were generally far from casual users. They were people who handled code far more complicated than game systems, so it was difficult for them to sympathize with such complaints.

“Still, complaints are complaints. And complicated doesn’t automatically mean fun.”

“Hmm. That’s true.”

Ranshtain nodded as though agreeing with Eji’s words.

He liked Land of Adventure, but he also loved older games built upon the beauty of simplicity.

Without even looking far, there were games like Tetris and Pac-Man, created by the very developer of Land of Adventure, which delivered deep enjoyment through incredibly simple mechanics.

“So instead of those boring battles, we give players simplicity and intuitiveness. It’s not hard, right? We can just make it like a shooting game. And for everything else—the vast ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠world, the story, the events, the quests—we follow it, no, we preserve those strengths exactly. Doesn’t it feel like we could make a game that surpasses Land of Adventure?!”

As Ejjuka explained his thoughts, he became somewhat excited toward the end, causing his voice to grow louder and his words rougher, but the idea itself was conveyed clearly enough.

“...That actually sounds pretty good.”

Eji leaned back again and stared at the ceiling while considering whether Land of Adventure would still remain appealing without its battle system, and what sort of replacement combat system would work instead.

Meanwhile, Ranshtain immediately agreed with Ejjuka’s idea because he strongly felt something click in his mind.

And although Eji was less enthusiastic, he still raised one hand to indicate approval since he had no better alternative and disliked how game development kept being delayed.

Either way, whether it’s 2-to-1 or 3-to-0, the result’s the same.

Eji decided that if they were going to do this, he might as well participate wholeheartedly.

And they were far from the only ones trying to create a game that surpassed Land of Adventure.

Ras, too, worked hard to create a sequel better than the original.

Using Aspa’s ideas as a foundation, he created a multi-ending system and combined modularized events and storylines to allow many different routes of progression.

He also revised the combat system.

At first, he had even considered introducing an SRPG-style system like Sea King.

However, unlike Sea King, this game required much more frequent combat to level up characters, and opening a stage and moving every character individually for every single battle seemed like it would create excessive fatigue.

So instead, he decided to improve it only slightly.

Rather than using the old method where only monster illustrations appeared, he introduced a formation system.

“Both allies and enemies will each have a field of nine tiles, and every character will occupy one tile.”

“...”

Garazt initially wondered what difference that would even make if characters could not move around and simply stood facing each other fighting.

Still, Ras was both his boss and someone he deeply respected as a game developer, so instead of immediately voicing his doubts, he thought about it more carefully.

“Ah... This would make close-range and long-range attacks feel more realistic.”

He quickly realized one advantage.

In the first Land of Adventure, there had been very little distinction between melee and ranged attacks. Ranged attacks technically avoided counterattacks, but because it was only briefly conveyed through text, players could not truly feel the difference.

“Exactly. And beyond just melee and ranged attacks, we can also represent mid-range attacks. For example, spears could skip over the front row and attack only the next tile behind it, but not reach all the way to the rear line.”

It also allowed area attacks to be represented more effectively.

Previously, powerful attacks only felt stronger through larger damage numbers, but now they could visually damage all nine tiles at once.

“Besides that, it also adds strategy. Skills that attack only the front row, deal damage in a straight line, or strike in a cross-shaped area will force players to think about how to position ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠them most efficiently.”

“Ahh...”

The image instantly formed in Garazt’s mind.

And suddenly, those seemingly insignificant nine tiles felt like an entirely new world.

Actually implementing it, however, was not easy.

Instead of the old monster illustrations, everything now needed to be redrawn in a form that fit inside tiles while still conveying depth. The same applied to the code itself.

Thinking about it conceptually was simple, but implementation required writing every single piece of code manually.

From a player’s perspective, it might appear simpler than Sea King’s combat system since the units merely stood there without moving, but in reality, developing it was even more complicated and difficult.

Fortunately, this time Ras was not working alone.

He had Garazt assisting him, and many other parts of the game reused resources from the original, so even if some systems consumed an excessive amount of time, the development period would not become unbearably long.

At this point, nobody can say I’m just making the same thing again, right?

After implementing the multi-ending system, branching story structure, combat changes, and slight UI improvements, Ras found himself thinking that.

It was not so much that he feared criticism from others. Rather, he could not tolerate the idea of someone from a far more advanced world merely reproducing the same thing repeatedly.

Even if he could justify it by saying current computer hardware was too weak to create the games he truly wanted.

Still, despite all those improvements, he could not shake the feeling that something was lacking.

And Ras knew exactly what it was.

Sound.

In truth, he had already postponed the issue, thinking he would deal with it once 16-bit computers appeared, since current computer performance forced a choice between graphics and sound.

And after working on it continuously, Ras had at least reached the point where he could somehow manage basic sound effects.

Still, even if they would not be implemented immediately into the current game, it felt like he should start recruiting people in advance.

If he waited until later and began scrambling to find talent then, capable people would not magically appear.

Even right now, he already wanted to hand off this cursed sound ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠effect work to someone else.

He only did it because he had no choice. It was not particularly enjoyable.

While fiddling with the sound program, Ras rubbed between his brows as he watched Garazt diligently coding nearby.

The fact that he even had enough breathing room during development to think about hiring people was itself thanks to employees now sharing some of the workload.

Since he had already earned a huge amount of money, unless he intended to spend the rest of his life personally coding everything himself, he would eventually need to keep increasing not only sound staff but overall development personnel as well.

And once computer performance improved, larger development teams would become necessary anyway, so in a sense, this was simply preparation.

Besides, there were too many games Ras wanted to create.

If he coded every single one personally, he would barely finish any in his lifetime.

Maybe I should start by posting notices on music university bulletin boards?

Of course, attending a music university did not automatically mean someone knew composition.

Moreover, they would need to work with computers rather than sheet music or instruments, so he doubted finding suitable people would be easy.

Still, no better alternatives came to mind.

Ras turned on the computer and began drafting recruitment notices.

He had recently purchased a printer as well.

However, it felt very different from the printers he used back in Korea.

Ras had used inkjet printers before laser printers became common, but this thing was something else entirely.

Expensive aside, it was unbelievably noisy with constant screeching sounds, painfully slow, and the print quality was terrible.

Still, it was readable enough, so he continued using it.

But halfway through writing the recruitment notice, Ras removed his hands from the keyboard.

He still had not decided whether to hire a full-time sound designer or simply outsource the work as he originally intended.

Since money was abundant and he planned to invest heavily in sound eventually, he had already leaned halfway toward hiring someone permanently.

But now that he actually thought about hiring, the fact that nobody even knew when 16-bit computers would appear made the decision feel awkward.

So he continued thinking things over.

Around lunchtime on ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠Sunday, Ras was lying stretched across the sofa reading a book on foundational magic theory when hunger suddenly struck, causing him to glance at the clock on the wall.

“Ah. It’s lunchtime.”

His voice carried obvious annoyance.

Unlike before, he was no longer pouring himself entirely into game development and had recently begun studying magic, something he had long been interested in.

When deeply focused on something, eating became a bothersome interruption.

And when the meal involved traveling all the way to a restaurant located far from home instead of simply throwing something together quickly, that annoyance doubled.

Still, it would be a waste to lose the reservation he had managed to secure, and he had heard the restaurant was excellent, which made him curious as well.

Ras closed the book, stood up, and headed toward the bathroom.

Recently, he had begun searching for famous restaurants whenever he had free time.

There was no particularly grand reason behind it.

He had earned an absurd amount of money yet rarely had time to spend it, which felt unfair. He liked delicious food, and he also felt like his life had become nothing but commuting between home and work.

The idea had originally come from pure impulse, but it turned out to be more enjoyable than expected, so he kept doing it.

After washing up, Ras took out a suit from the wardrobe and dressed himself.

Comfortable clothing suited his taste better, but expensive restaurants in this world all enforced dress codes, forcing him to buy formalwear.

Even so, it was not as though he completely disliked elegant suits.

In fact, he liked the expensive tailored suit he had commissioned from the tailor shop quite a lot.

And having occasions that justified wearing the carefully tailored outfit was not bad either, so his mood quickly improved.

“Do you know Dayalla Restaurant?”

“Ah. Yes.”

Since he could hardly board a crowded bus while fully dressed in a suit, he hailed a taxi instead.

Fortunately, the driver, who looked to be around forty, already knew where the restaurant was, saving Ras the trouble of explaining directions.

That only made Ras anticipate the place even more, thinking it truly must be famous.

Despite it being Sunday afternoon, traffic was surprisingly light.

Apparently, private cars were still expensive luxuries.

The taxi left behind the familiar streets and headed toward places Ras had previously only glimpsed from afar.

Yet beyond one road simply lay another road.

After driving through unfamiliar but otherwise ordinary streets for quite a while, the taxi finally stopped in a district filled with unfamiliar buildings.

“That building right there.”

The driver kindly pointed out the restaurant’s location until the very end.

Driving was still treated as a specialized profession in this era, so drivers themselves carried a certain dignity.

From the neat uniforms to the hats and white gloves, everything reflected professionalism.

Of course, that also meant taxi fares were fairly expensive.

“Do you have a reservation?”

As Ras approached the entrance, an Orc doorman dressed in an immaculate suit politely addressed him.

At first, Ras had wondered whether stationing such an overwhelmingly muscular figure at the entrance was really appropriate, but judging by his behavior, the man had clearly received extensive hospitality training.

If anything, it actually made Ras feel well-treated.

“Yes. Reservation under Epek Ras.”

“One moment, please.”

The doorman quickly confirmed it with another employee inside before opening the door.

“My apologies. Please come in.”

“Yes. Thank you.”

Ras still found systems like this awkward, but he smiled lightly and gave a small nod as he entered.

After all, this world constantly felt slightly misaligned with his own senses anyway, so he simply treated it as traveling through a foreign place and experiencing something new.