Chapter 7
Chapter 7
In truth, Insu had already drawn several characters himself.
Insu was not particularly talented at drawing. However, he had taken several computer graphics-related classes in the past. There, he learned techniques for combining shapes within graphic tools to create reasonably convincing images. Thanks to that, while his results could hardly be called elegant, they were at least passable.
Still, because he cared about quality, he could not help feeling dissatisfied. Especially when he thought about the amount of time he had invested just to create a few images, he finally understood why professionals existed.
But there’s no helping it.
When you had no teeth, you chewed with your gums. That was reality, living and getting work done no matter the circumstances.
So until he could at least create a playable sample version, he simply had to push through somehow.
“I’m home!”
“Okay. You’re back?”
By now, even his mother hugging him tightly had become completely natural again. Or rather, since it had originally been normal in the first place, perhaps those few days right after remembering his previous life had been the truly strange period.
“I’m going to wash up!”
Insu immediately ran toward the bathroom. In truth, he wanted to turn on the computer first, but if he kept losing points over little things like this, his mother might eventually start viewing the computer as an enemy.
As a child, he needed his parents’ support and approval. If they formed a negative impression first, things would become genuinely difficult.
Thankfully, they don’t seem to see it negatively yet.
Perhaps it was because they still did not think of this as “studying.” Whatever the reason, it was fortunate.
After quickly washing up, he immediately sat in front of the computer and pressed the power button, listening once again to the screeching boot-up sounds. Because the system names differed from those in his previous life, he had not recognized it at first, but this machine was equivalent to a 386 model.
When he realized that, he quietly celebrated for a moment. If this world had developed at roughly the same pace as Earth, then 386 systems were only just beginning to spread, while 286 systems were still more common overall.
Of course, game development on a 286 was not impossible. But creating something at the level Insu envisioned would have been difficult.
Probably only something around early Ultima levels would’ve been possible. Though since the 286 is still 16-bit, maybe it’d be slightly better than that?
If he remembered correctly, Ultima I had been developed on an 8-bit system.
Honestly, even a 386 still felt like ancient junk by the standards of someone who had lived in the twenty-first century. But at least it supported 256 colors, which meant it could produce graphics that were reasonably pleasant to look at while also handling fairly complex systems.
Even so, the results would still remain within the realm of classic games. But among retro games, those made before the 386 era often had graphics so primitive they were difficult to enjoy at all.
The whole “pixel art aesthetic,” “retro,” and “classic” atmosphere people romanticized generally only became viable from the 386 era onward. Of course, that applied specifically to computers. Console games had already displayed surprisingly vibrant colors even before then.
In any case, no matter how strong a game’s mechanics were, if the graphics failed to meet a minimum threshold, they inevitably became a barrier to entry.
Right now, people are still amazed just seeing something move on a monitor, and there are obvious technological limitations, so they tolerate it.
But Insu intended to continue making games and growing the IP over time, so ideally, he wanted to create something that could still be enjoyed later on.
Afterward, he spent another four days barely managing to create a sample where actual combat could take place.
I simplified a lot, though.
Insu had already designed numerous elements like races, attributes, and bloodlines, but implementing those would require more time, and the sample itself did not need them yet. So for now, he only included simple stats like health and attack power.
He had already coded things like critical hits and defense values, but although the numbers existed internally, he disabled their actual effects for the moment.
This should work, right?
Thankfully, all the practice examples he had created in his previous life paid off, and most of the individual components ran successfully without issue. But whether they would still work properly once assembled together was another matter entirely, leaving him slightly tense.
Moreover, because this was only a demonstration sample, he had temporarily patched and blocked many things, meaning bugs could easily appear if those shortcuts tangled together unexpectedly.
Insu waited nervously as the build progressed.
Compilation complete.
No errors found.
So far, no problems. He immediately pressed the shortcut key to run the program. After a short loading period, it launched successfully.
At least the battle screen loaded correctly.
The images he had drawn assembled together into the form he envisioned. After briefly sighing in relief, Insu moved on to testing whether it actually functioned properly.
“It works...”
Thankfully, the characters moved according to his clicks and produced his crude homemade effects while defeating enemies that looked like lumps of clay.
Ideally, he would have preferred to include goblins or orcs to better suit the beginning of an adventure. But given his pitiful drawing skills, these simple-looking creatures were the fastest and easiest things he could make.
Still, perhaps because of the low resolution and CRT monitor blurring the outlines slightly, they looked more convincing than expected.
Of course, he could not trust a single successful test. So although he grew bored, Insu continued repeatedly launching meaningless attacks in various patterns.
Back in his previous life, this was usually the point where bugs appeared almost one hundred percent of the time. Yet everything remained clean.
That strangely made Insu feel even more uneasy, though part of him also suspected it was simply because the demonstration sample itself was still so simple.
Well, it’s just a demo anyway.
If this were a prototype intended to attract investors, that would be another matter. But since the primary purpose was simply to show his parents, if something went wrong, he could always ask them to wait a moment, restart the program, and only demonstrate the parts that worked.
Only after reaching that conclusion did Insu finally feel like he had truly accomplished something.
Of course, he still had not created a real, complete game. But he had taken his first real step toward the dream of game development that he carried over from his previous life. More importantly, there was immense satisfaction in having created something with this small and powerless body that had felt so helpless ever since reincarnating.
Well, enough admiring it. Back to development.
He still had a long road ahead. Compared to the full scope of the project, this was only the tiniest fraction, so small he still could not properly estimate overall progress. Feeling satisfied after only a single step would have been absurd.
I need to keep moving fast.
Rather, he needed to use this as momentum. Opening the planning notebook again, Insu selected another unimplemented feature, copied it into a different notebook, and began thinking through how to code it.
That evening, Seongcheol returned home from work.
“I’m home.”
Insu immediately stood up from the chair. His father frequently worked overtime, so he had tried not to expect anything, but somehow the timing worked out perfectly today.
“Welcome back!”
“Yeah. Were you good while I was gone?”
Seeing Insu greet him so enthusiastically, Seongcheol smiled despite his exhausted face and patted his head affectionately. Though his father was not particularly large, Insu himself was so small right now that the hand covering his head felt enormous.
Insu immediately wanted to drag him over to the computer, but he restrained himself and waited patiently for the right moment.
Then, after everyone had washed up and eaten dinner, once the family had settled comfortably in front of the TV in relaxed clothes, Insu quietly approached his father.
He had actually considered showing his mother first. Usually, mothers felt easier to approach than fathers.
But his father was not especially authoritarian or stiff, and unlike his mother, who neither understood nor cared much about computers, Seongcheol was genuinely interested in games as well.
“Um... Dad. There’s something I want to show you.”
“Hm? What is it?”
Whether Insu simply picked the right moment or Seongcheol was just naturally a good father, he immediately stood up and followed him without hesitation.
Did he beat a high score or something?
Seeing Insu head toward the computer, Seongcheol smiled warmly, remembering the time they had played games together before.
Hyein did not really object to games, but her indifference toward them had always felt a little disappointing. Sharing the same hobby with his adorable son, however, sounded wonderful.
But the words that came out of Insu’s mouth while turning on the computer were completely unexpected.
“I’ve been making a game lately.”
From the living room, where she had remained alone watching TV, Hyein glanced toward them at those words. She had already suspected something along those lines, but now it was confirmed, and the fact that Insu had done enough to actually call his father over to show him something made it genuinely interesting.
“You’re making a game?”
Not “want to make,” but “making”?
Seongcheol immediately found it difficult to believe. After all, his tiny son was only five years old. He still attended kindergarten and was only at the age where children typically began learning letters. Of course, Insu had learned to read far earlier and was clearly intelligent, but he was still undeniably young.
“Look! It’s not finished yet, though.”
This was a moment Insu had imagined over and over in his head, and now that it had finally arrived, excitement surged through him so strongly he could barely contain it. Perhaps because his current body was still immature in many ways, his emotions also felt harder to control.
Even so, after coding obsessively for so long, his fingers had become completely accustomed to the keyboard, allowing him to input commands smoothly and launch the prepared sample with remarkable familiarity.
The screen changed, and after a brief loading period, two 3×4 battlefields positioned diagonally appeared, along with multiple characters standing on them.
“This side is our party, and the left side is the enemies.”
“Oh... really?”
Seongcheol had watched him launch something, but he still had not believed Insu had actually made it himself. Yet it was clearly a game he did not recognize. And the graphics were too rough to resemble a commercially released title, which ironically made the claim that Insu created it feel more believable.
“You select an attack like this, then click the enemy.”
Still slightly dazed, Seongcheol followed Insu’s instructions and tried controlling it himself. The graphics were clumsy, the systems simplistic, and the effects plain and unimpressive, yet it worked properly.
He stared at the game on the monitor for a long while before unconsciously turning toward his son.
Is this real? Is something like this even possible?
“How did you make this?”
Seeing how visibly shaken his father looked, Insu became slightly timid and pointed toward the C language book.
“I made it while reading this. Using this program called POWER C.”
Seongcheol followed his gaze. At the very least, the method made sense.
He did not want to doubt his son, but considering his age, the possibility that he was falsely claiming credit for something someone else had made inevitably crossed his mind. Yet hearing this explanation made him start leaning toward believing it might actually be true.
Insu could read that suspicion in his father’s face. Or rather, he had anticipated it. Honestly, even he himself would have struggled to believe a five-year-old claiming to have made a game.
“I’ll show you the code.”
And though he could not truly be called a professional, his years of programming experience from his previous life led him to a very programmer-like solution.
Insu immediately closed the sample, opened the editor, and loaded the source code. In an instant, the screen filled densely with lines of code.
Unless someone was a developer, there was almost no chance they would possess the actual source code rather than just a packaged program. And in an era before the internet became widespread, that was even more true.
“Uh...”
Seongcheol stared at the screen, unsure what to say. His own programming ability extended only to extremely basic coding. But he still vaguely understood what it meant for someone to openly display source code like this.
And one thought suddenly surfaced in his mind.
Is he a genius?
Insu had worried that his secret might somehow be exposed, but in reality, concepts like reincarnation or possession were things people treated as fiction. Very few people seriously considered them possible in real life.
Moreover, Seongcheol was an extremely rational, science-oriented person, so that kind of explanation never even crossed his mind. The only conclusion he could reach was that his son was an extraordinary genius.