Yujin's Game Development Club (2)
My mind went completely blank from the shock, but only for a moment.
Dante mulled over the question itself once more.
Judging a character's personality based solely on superficial physical traits?
…Intriguing.
Honestly, it caught me off guard.
The depth of insight in that question surpassed any playwright he'd ever encountered.
What was the most important element in theater?
Direction? The actors' performances?
No.
It was character.
An actor's face and acting were inevitably tied to their character. The play's quality hinged on how well the actor fit the role.
Dante felt a twinge of tension.
So, let's dissect the question carefully.
A beauty mark inside the breast symbolized powerful femininity. Heavy makeup fit the same context.
Blonde hair suggested southern nobility or imperial blood. Twin tails implied youth.
Being embarrassed by a short skirt, despite innate femininity, pointed to inexperience in expressing it.
So, not from the capital. Capital girls were trained in such matters from a young age.
A short skirt evoked the academy first and foremost.
Dante answered without hesitation.
"The daughter of a high noble who's only recently become independent from her family. Sixteen years old, first-year academy student, inexperienced in high society. Blonde hair means high chance she's from the south. Maybe even a collateral branch of House Aishinkiore. Still, she's learned from her family how to flaunt her femininity properly. The beauty mark inside her breast hints at abundance. Young, with room to grow, but already possessor of beautifully full breasts. Once she graduates the academy and comes of age, she'll be the talk of the social scene—a femme fatale extraordinaire."
Not a flicker in his eyes.
The black-haired interviewer—a mage whose subtly glowing eyes marked him as one of their own—nodded approvingly.
"Excellent. The academy angle never crossed my mind. A working playwright is indeed different."
"You're too kind. I never expected a literary talent like you at the Central Imperial Magic Library."
Dante returned the compliment.
Sincere praise.
A genius playwright scouted by Romanium's top troupe at just fifteen.
Every novel a smash hit, earning a baronetcy on writing merit alone.
No contemporary author would turn down praise from Dante Otter de Bua.
"One final question, then we're done."
The man pondered carefully, then smiled faintly.
"Imagine you could glimpse the world 500 years from now. A world twisted by magic overuse. You meet a girl scraping by day-to-day there."
A scene flashed in Dante's mind.
A ravaged world. A girl navigating a slum overrun by grotesque monsters and giant rats with practiced steps.
Boy meets girl. Timeless classic.
"She shows you kindness. You follow her, learning this world's altered laws. Your bond deepens; together, you start making the world a little better. You meet others, build connections."
In an underground shelter untouched by corruption, people share scarce food, laughing and chatting.
A bearded hunter and ex-guard clink glasses over pre-apocalypse booze they'd hoarded.
A widow watches her kids bloom with rare smiles, grateful.
"But as you venture deeper into the corruption, something feels off. Then, you uncover a secret tragedy piercing all this horror. What is it? What would despair you most? No right answer—speak freely."
"…"
Dante drew a breath.
No right answer? No.
This test had one.
"May I have a moment to think?"
"Take your time."
Dante immersed himself in that world.
What would break him most?
Or rather, what would plunge this story's narrator into despair?
Solving the corruption returns him home? The girl has a terminal illness? The jolly folk are murderers, their goods stolen from the dead?
Dante shook his head.
Shocking, but not despair.
Despair came from dissonance.
Realizing no effort would reach the ending you envisioned.
And this question linked to the first.
The heroine's death.
If Dante weren't sharp, if his grasp of story and plot weren't keen, he'd never solve it.
So the answer was—
"You must kill the girl to save the world…"
Dante Otter de Bua.
I barely restrained the urge to leap up in a standing ovation.
If there'd been a "Pass" necklace, I'd have draped him in them.
His answer gave me chills.
Honestly, Yujin Feltro? Without modern knowledge, I'm just a regular joe.
My ideas are mere reinterpretations of real-world stuff.
But this master, sans such knowledge, nailed the perfect answer.
Near the ending, weighing world salvation against the girl's life in a mad, soul-crushing drift. And if she offers herself, begging the protagonist to kill her and fulfill her long-cherished dream?
Spot on, theater wizard!
I could already see mages bawling their eyes out.
With this, Master and I advanced another step toward the future.
More mental fortitude! More immersion!!
Of course, not all matched Dante, but several applicants left strong impressions.
"First adventurer quest? Obvious—capital sewers. Register and you're stuck there a month minimum."
"Why?"
"Safe. Guards patrol regularly. Help's instant if needed. Flat terrain, fully mapped—no getting lost."
"But grinding XP faster builds skill quicker, right? Goblin dens?"
"…Goblins are cunning. Not pushovers. Strength builds gradually. XP speed isn't power—survivors are the real elites."
Some grizzled instructor 'Eaton' who'd probably helmeted goblin farms back in the day.
Combat level designer and quest planner, hired.
"New game, so Lady Liana's involved too, right?"
"You applied too, Hanna?"
"Expected as her secretary. Use me as you will. She mentioned needing more economic oversight. Path of Gold had gaps."
Hanna, one of Liana's crew.
In-game economy and currency designer, hired.
"Post-apocalypse? Seen it. Ever been to the Lost Twilight Cult Ruins? Legend? Bull—it's real!"
Ex-explorer turned bard 'Mikrel'.
BGM, map design, and player pathing planner, hired.
"Looks fun. Empire-wide, none've slain more monsters than me—even knights. Dodged death plenty."
"Toughest foe?"
"Dragon. Hatchling, but still. No dragon-slayer title like your brother."
"…He's an outlier. Can't be helped."
One-armed bounty hunter and ex-mercenary captain 'Jacob'.
Hostile NPC AI and monster designer, hired.
Plus others I liked with solid attitudes.
Now, me, Liana, guild craftsmen, and the big catch—scenario writer Dante Otter de Bua—made a 13-strong expedition team.
"Now this is a proper fantasy game dev crew."
"B-but Lord Yujin? Can you manage this many? What about librarian duties?"
"Claude's covering for a bit. Master's helping too—she's hyped. Right, Wiki?"
"…Please don't talk to me around others, Lord Yujin. They can't hear me anyway. People stare."
"Image already in the gutter. And soon others'll sense you too? Imagine the immersion once the game's done."
"Pointless. I like things as they are with you."
"Don't get tsundere just 'cause the party's bigger, punk."
Anyway, we're finally at the starting line.
Long road ahead, but this talent pool might finish before the regular council.
Time to show the world we'll build together.
"Alright, everyone, line up slow and step in. Dimension's tight for 12—huddle close! Eaton, Jacob—ditch the armor, you're huge!"
Dubbed Project: Oracle.
Setting: the ruined continent 500 years hence, a forgotten city from everyone's memories.
Into those wretched ruins stepped twelve prophets.