Two Hundred Billion Short

Meanwhile, in the Royal School dormitory, Peter had finished The Great Car Thief over the break. He had wanted Park Jihoon to be the first to see it, but Jihoon would be in Korea by now. With no other choice, he got in touch with Tennessee, who was supposed to be cracking a European distribution line. Pinning down a meeting had not been easy. Fortunately, they managed one.

Nod. Nod. Tennessee kept dozing off in front of the keyboard.

"I've been insanely busy lately."

Ralph, seated beside him, offered it a little sheepishly.

"If you don't mind, should I give it a try?"

"You, senior?"

"Tennessee would be best. But as you can see..."

Fair enough. He had been working right up until he walked in. Waking him just to test a game would have been rude.

"Then will you really try it?"

"I'd love to."

"Only the ones that come out of JH. Now and then."

"...?"

"They're releases from our company. I figured I ought to check."

All right. That was good enough. Peter launched The Great Car Thief at once, the game he had ground an entire summer vacation into. Maybe that was why his face was drawn so tight with ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠nerves.

"Keyboard, right?"

"Yes. You move with the arrow keys."

Ralph handled the character with easy familiarity, studying the background art in detail and, whenever two characters looked ready to speak, taking his time to read.

The tutorial was just about winding down.

"This is cops and robbers, isn't it?"

Oh. Peter hadn't expected much. Maybe the senior could actually offer useful feedback. About ten minutes later, he revised that opinion.

"It feels a little flat."

"How so?"

"I keep wandering the map, and nothing happens."

Well, that was because the senior wasn't committing any crimes. The thing was called cops and robbers. Steal a car, hit somebody—you had to do something bad before the police would roll out. Ralph, of course, had his reasons.

"The thing is..."

"I don't know about anyone else, but I'm even more that way. I've spent my life doing nothing but harm, so from now on, at least, I ought to live decently..."

What were you supposed to ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠say to a man swearing he had turned over a new leaf? Peter was working his mouth, at a loss, when another voice cut in.

"I'll try it."

Huh? Tennessee. A moment ago he had looked ready to pass out. Now his face was wide awake.

"H-here. The keyboard."

No questions asked. He punched a passing NPC, and the character went down with a satisfying thud.

"The impact feels great."

"Right? I fussed over it like crazy."

Bold as anything, Tennessee stepped into the road. Horns blared, and cars slammed to a stop. He paid them no mind. He walked up to a driver's door, hit the carjack button, flung it open with a clean swing, and hauled the driver out.

"Be better if you could fling him right here, don't you think?"

"Fling the driver?"

If you were stealing a moving car, wasn't that obvious? Peter, conceding the point, started writing the note in his notebook.

A moment later: wee-woo, wee-woo.

"Can't take a police car, can you?"

"Nope. Not yet."

"Meaning I can later?"

"Depends on your items, but I set it so you can."

"So if I pick up a bazooka, I could just blow it away?"

"Yep."

"This is pretty fun."

The two of them traded notes as if it were nothing. Ralph, by contrast, looked uncomfortable with the whole scene. The same Ralph who had donated every cent of his first paycheck was off on some wildly sideways thought when a sound came from behind them.

Knock, knock.

It was vacation. Who could that be? A question mark might as well have popped up over every head.

Creeeak. The door began to open, quietly.

"So this is where you all were."

With the new term nearly on us, I had come early to drop off my bags. Well, now. I hadn't expected quite so many familiar faces.

"Park Jihoon!"

Peter shot up, wearing the gladdest face in the world. Tennessee was glad too, and doing his best not to show it. I could see him arguing with himself. Last of all came Ralph, still awkward around ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠me, scratching the back of his head.

I grinned in place of a hello and pointed at the monitor.

"You already finished it?"

"Yeah. Want to take a look?"

The Great Car Thief. He could say that all he liked.

My money's in this. Of course I'm checking.

I took a seat behind Tennessee as if it were the most natural thing in the world.

"Why do you look so exhausted?"

"That partner of mine... he runs me half to death..."

"Mmph."

"So? Did you get the work done?"

It must have been a nightmarish vacation just to think about. Tennessee nodded, his face unusually heavy.

"See for yourself."

He drove a car straight into a building. Glass blew out, and the shop was a wreck.

"You're venting work stress in there, aren't you?"

"So is it helping?"

"..."

Instead of answering, he plowed the car through every fixture in the store. Judging by his face, it was helping, a little. Ahem.

I played it myself for about an hour, and then I had my verdict. I looked at Peter.

"How soon can you finish it?"

"For a final check, about a month..."

"One week."

"Huh?"

"By then the ad rates will jump."

His face said he had never once thought of that.

"So we'd have to pay more for advertising too?"

I nodded.

"If that's too much, say so. We could also release in six months."

Grind like mad for a week, or wait out a comfortable six months.

"Might as well get it done while we're talking about it."

Peter chose the former, as expected.

"Bring me a case of Mad Bull."

"Sure. As many as you want."

In the end, Tennessee and Ralph locked down the European distribution line.

Everyone put the vacation to good use.

All that remained was to see what the effort had earned.

The first to show results was, without question, Gromhats. Olivia's print campaign seemed to fire the opening shot, and then two collaborations were announced at once, drawing a tremendous amount of attention.

Perhaps it was the anticipation. Word came that Gromhats had sold clean through its stock. Feels good. Still. It wasn't as if a fortune was landing in hand tomorrow. Fortunately, the good news kept arriving.

First, Mad Bull sales broke another record. An exclusive contract with MJ had not been enough. They had gone and made a Chicago Bulls limited edition, and word was it had posted the best sales the Chicago area had ever seen. That was not the end of it. The commercial Dmitri had built around NFL players landed exactly as intended. Was a play like that even possible? The argument ran so hot that a network actually tested it with famous players. Once the spot was the talk of the town day after day, Dmitri cut ad after ad on the same concept, and sales spiked with every new version. He even called me himself.

At this rate, wouldn't Mad Bull alone cover two hundred billion won?

Not a bad start.

The first title we actually put in front of people was Peter's The Great Car Thief, JH's first adult game. The marketing alone was tricky, so we built a strategy to fit. It was a kind of performance, promotion braided together with a public purpose. We decided to donate a portion of the revenue toward improving conditions for the police, and that was what made the offbeat campaign possible.

It took time for any reaction to arrive. Once word of mouth spread far enough to reach the press, though, the effect climbed past any doubt. Two weeks after release it broke a million copies, and the analysis followed that, at this rate, it would clear three million comfortably before the year was out.

So The Great Car Thief answers for fifty billion won.

Even if it only followed history, it was a title that would fight for the top of the all-time sales charts. And yet, because Tennessee had opened the European distribution line, the early numbers surged past anything like that. And why wouldn't they?

At that one line the gates swung wide, so of course it sold, and kept on selling. Ten million copies in the first month alone, proof in the flesh that it was the greatest killer title a handheld had ever carried.

I had loudly promised thirty million copies in North America, and I mounted a blitz to match, a television spot that put the game in a speed race against Capsulemon characters. Perhaps all that care paid off. Eight million copies in the first month alone, a historic figure, and a first for a new IP. No wonder Satoshi, and the Mega executives with him, called overflowing with thanks.

Anyway. Tetris and Konik together were set to bring in at least four hundred billion won in profit this year alone. All the running around through vacation, in the end, came to six hundred and fifty billion. We had truly raked in a staggering sum. And yet, maybe because it still fell far short of the target, it left me distinctly unsatisfied.

Of course, the existing businesses would go on earning too. Capsulemon merchandise would keep selling, D-Que, JH's flagship cash cow, was still standing strong, and the department stores, Luy Vuitton, and Guccio together would bring in two hundred and fifty billion won at the very least. All of it together: nine hundred billion.

And I'm still two hundred billion short.

If I dumped the various stakes I held, I could raise that sum in half a day. It was an amount I could make.

But what a waste.

I had gathered a heap of things that were obviously about to skyrocket, and I was a mere two hundred billion short. I could hardly sell them for that.

Which is why I took out insurance.

It means little to me. To Ferrari, to Chairman Lorenzo, it is something very special.

Hand that over, and two hundred billion or so ought to settle the difference.

Thanks to my colleagues running themselves ragged, the ammunition seemed, somehow, secured. Which meant one thing.

Now it's my turn to step forward.

I headed for the airport at once. The destination was, without question, Italy, where Ferrari's headquarters stood.