Chapter 43: Coverage
Chapter 43: Coverage
Thanks to that, despite not even a year having passed since publication, it had already sold over 40,000 copies.
Even while achieving such success, the reporters at Game Heaven could not relax. Partly because they were ambitious, but also because consistently producing high-quality articles was not easy.
What should I write?
Lee Suchan was a fairly handsome young man whose neatly styled 6:4 parted hairstyle immediately drew attention. He had originally loved games, and when he heard that a senior from his school was starting a game magazine, he immediately followed him and became one of the founding members.
His skill was not bad either, so most of the articles he wrote received positive responses. Yet he did not feel particularly proud of himself.
Lately, he had fallen into a slight slump.
Or rather, perhaps it was more accurate to say that because there had never been a domestic game magazine before, there had been a backlog of things readers wanted and things he himself had wanted to write, allowing him to pour them out explosively until now. Naturally, that kind of explosive momentum was difficult to sustain forever.
But writing another article about foreign games again...
The issue fundamentally stemmed from the Korean game market still not being large enough. Of course, it was growing rapidly, but even so, developers capable of satisfying demand were not going to suddenly fall from the sky, so the shortage of domestic games was unavoidable for the time being.
However, carrying the title of Korea’s first game magazine while filling most of its pages with foreign games felt awkward and embarrassing. Readers might become disappointed.
People might start saying we’re just a translated foreign magazine. Even now, seventy percent of our pages are already filled with overseas games.
Searching for some kind of solution, Suchan flipped through foreign game magazines. Then he came across an article interviewing the game company behind the hit title Low-Level Infiltration.
Right. There were articles like this too.
Instead of merely introducing released games, the article approached things from various angles by finding information gamers were curious about. Thinking about it, foreign countries probably didn’t have endless waves of games pouring out either, so they had likely faced the same concerns and found answers in this way.
A hit title, huh...
But the problem was that the Korean game market was still immature, so there were very few companies successful enough for gamers to become curious about the developers themselves.
Damn it. At this rate, people might say we’re milking it again.
Fortunately, there was one suitable candidate. Parallel Soft, the developer of The Land Of Fantasy, the very game he himself had written the introductory article for in the beginning. This game had become such a massive success that it was being featured not only domestically but even in the American magazines he was currently reading. It was a proud symbol of Korean gaming.
Social perception toward games was still poor, so not many people viewed it as particularly amazing yet, but Lee Suchan himself sincerely believed so.
The problem was that they had already milked The Land Of Fantasy articles too many times.
If he had to make excuses, there simply weren’t many strong cards available, and the game itself was perfect for writing articles because it was popular and packed with things worth digging into.
No, wait. Since we kept publishing articles about it, maybe people have started becoming interested not only in the game itself, but also in the company behind it and its next project.
In truth, fellow reporters, including the editor-in-chief, were already saying they had squeezed the game dry down to the bone, and even readers had sent postcards saying the same thing. But if someone couldn’t be shameless, surviving as a reporter was difficult in the first place.
After making up his mind, he immediately began searching for Parallel Soft’s contact information.
“They want to come interview us?”
While deeply immersed in Alpha Version testing, Insu received the news from his mother.
“Yeah. A game magazine said they want to cover our company.”
“Really?”
If this request had come before the game became a hit, he would have accepted immediately. Back then, he had been desperate enough to do anything that might increase the chances of success even slightly.
But now, Insu’s reaction was not particularly enthusiastic.
He appreciated the interest, but they were currently extremely busy with Alpha Version testing.
Still, this is the first time a domestic game magazine, or even including foreign magazines, has shown interest in our company...
Refusing this probably wouldn’t make people call him arrogant, but if he rejected it simply because it was troublesome, there was no telling when another opportunity like this might come.
And now that we’ve already succeeded, there’s no need to keep hiding our nationality anymore, right?
Through this interview, Insu realized there was a possibility Parallel Soft’s nationality could become known overseas. Velocity had removed information including nationality from the package, but there had never been anything like a nondisclosure agreement.
However, unlike the company’s nationality, Insu still wanted to hide his own identity.
If things went wrong, he might end up reduced to a zoo monkey-like spectacle. Unnecessary attention and approaches might follow.
People simply admiring him as a genius was fine, but there would also be people who looked at his young age and saw prey instead. Having memories from his previous life, Insu no longer held particularly high expectations regarding human nature.
“Then please handle the interview.”
“Okay. Just trust Mom.”
Fortunately, Insu already had his parents standing in front of him. He decided there was no need to reject the opportunity since they could promote the company through his mother and father while preserving his secret and sparing him the inconvenience.
I really should start paying them salaries.
Previously, both of them stubbornly refused, and because his mother was technically the CEO, he had been unable to force the issue and eventually gave up. But now that he kept receiving so much help from them, he wanted to repay them somehow.
Of course, he roughly understood their feelings. To them, this was their child’s matter, their family’s matter, not something to calculate coldly. But because of his previous life experiences, Insu found it difficult to accept such things as naturally as ordinary children would.
Even among family, if one side only kept receiving, resentment and damaged relationships could eventually follow.
The reporter arrived the very next day.
“So getting access to the development room really is difficult?”
“Yes. We’re currently in the middle of Alpha Version testing for our next title, so everyone’s very sensitive right now. There are also confidentiality issues.”
Suchan had already heard over the phone that entering the development room would be difficult, but he tried pressing again once more. Hyein gently refused him.
The two moved to a nearby café. The development room was unsuitable for interviews, and since they didn’t have a separate office, a café was their only option.
“First of all, congratulations on the worldwide success of The Land Of Fantasy.”
“Thank you.”
Hyein replied with a gentle smile. In truth, she had been nervous ever since agreeing to the interview, but thanks to practicing at home, mentally rehearsing scripts, and doing image training, she was able to respond naturally.
As expected from someone who created a worldwide hit at such a young age. She’s not ordinary.
At first, Suchan had formed a somewhat light impression because she was young and female, but after exchanging several conversations, his thoughts changed.
“Judging by the release date, it seems you must have started development no later than 1988. Is that correct?”
“Yes, that’s right.”
“At that time, 386 computers were only just beginning to spread, while 286 models and lower-end systems still dominated the market... so how did you decide to develop such a high-spec game?”
“At the time, computer distribution in Korea was poor, but we evaluated the potential of computers very highly. And we believed people would soon realize that as well.”
“So in other words, you expected computer adoption to increase significantly by the time development was complete?”
“Yes, exactly.”
Suchan had asked the thing he was most curious about, and he found himself impressed by Hyein’s answer. He wondered if it took this kind of foresight to create a game like that.
Meanwhile, Hyein failed to notice his admiration and instead secretly felt relieved that she was calmly delivering the responses she had prepared beforehand.
“I heard you’re currently developing your next title. Could you tell us a little about what kind of game it is?”
“Hmm... First of all, it’s not an RPG.”
“Ah, I see.”
A subtle disappointment colored Suchan’s reaction. Any fan of The Land Of Fantasy would probably react similarly.
“However, it shares the same world setting, and it’s a game capable of creating synergy with our development studio’s vision.”
“By synergy, you mean...?”
“Yes. We plan to continue developing games steadily at a fast pace moving forward. The specific details are confidential, so it’s difficult to elaborate.”
“Ah, understood.”
“Although the genre is different, there will be many similarities to The Land Of Fantasy not only in terms of worldbuilding, but also in game design and overall direction.”
After that, the two drank coffee and spoke at length. Suchan enthusiastically pressed forward because he needed material for his article and was also personally fascinated by the company, while Hyein secretly broke out into a cold sweat as she nevertheless did her best to help her son.
It felt as though they talked for nearly three hours.
“Thank you very much for making time for us today. I’ll repay you with a great article!”
“Thank you as well. I look forward to working with you.”
Hyein managed to maintain a composed smile until the very end, but inwardly she let out a huge sigh of relief.
Then the year turned once again, and 1991 arrived.
At first, the team members had been overflowing with excitement during Alpha Version testing, but gradually, the light faded from their eyes.
Bugs began appearing all throughout the game in places that had initially seemed perfectly fine, and every time another issue was added to the checklist, chills crept further down their spines. Then they began fixing them, but simply handling the existing list was already incredibly difficult.
Yet every time they caught one bug, another appeared elsewhere, often creating entirely new problems in the process.
It definitely looked fine at first.
Another bug surfaced once again, but Yoo Juyeon no longer even had the energy to react dramatically and simply sighed instead. The Alpha Version he had once thought was a beautiful and solid marble seemed to actually be nothing more than a lump of clay that had only been smoothed on the outside.
And not just any lump of clay, but one so endlessly soft that the moment you touched it, it warped and created new flaws.
Eunha and Suhyeon did not know coding, so they could not participate in debugging, but continuing to play the game and discover new issues while surrounded by exhausted people clutching their heads did not feel especially enjoyable either.
Should I just learn coding too?
Eunha even reached the point of thinking that. Rather than awkwardly reading the room, she wondered if it might be better to suffer alongside everyone else. If Insu had heard that thought, he would have been delighted.
Partly because he would then be able to assign her all sorts of tasks if necessary, but also because learning coding would improve her understanding of development itself, allowing her to handle more areas of graphic work on her own without Insu needing to explain and direct every correction individually.
Of course, Eunha only felt that way emotionally and did not actually start studying. In the first place, she already spent her days dozing off at school, then coming here after classes to work all day long, so she had no spare time whatsoever.
In a way, the reason she couldn’t learn coding was also because of Insu.
Their days became an endless cycle of testing, fixing, testing, and fixing again. One of the terrible things about it was how much time it consumed while never feeling like they were actually developing or creating something new, instead making them feel stuck in place.
Usually, even if something was difficult, visible progress became the driving force that allowed people to endure it. But debugging did not really provide that feeling.
At least it feels like things are gradually getting cleaner.
As the seemingly endless debugging process slowly neared completion and the game became playable for long periods without major issues, Insu felt both anxious and refreshed at the same time.
And so, the Alpha Version test that had consumed nearly all of his winter vacation finally came to an end.
“Everyone, thank you so much for your hard work. We safely made it over the biggest mountain.”
Of course, more bugs would probably still appear if they continued playing. Games without bugs simply did not exist. However, once Insu confirmed that the core functions had no major issues and that only a small number of bugs appeared even after extended play sessions according to their original standards, he officially declared the test cleared.