Project Hwarang (4)
"How'd the first week's numbers look?"
[Total sales: 10.5 million copies. Pre-platform-fee profit is roughly 530 billion won. After fees, about 360 billion.]
"If we stretch it to a full month, think we could hit 400 billion?"
I want to see that clean 400 billion after fees. Nice and neat.
[You wouldn't even need a full month. It's achievable in just a few more days.]
Athena's supremely confident answer made it impossible to suppress the stupid grin spreading across my face.
[Also, the numbers for Revolution Classic, which launched around the same time, just came in. Would you like me to include that in the report?]
"...They released something?"
Apparently, a company that just about everyone except its own die-hard gamers loves to hate had put out a new title. News to me. Hadn't even heard about it.
[Yes. They did put a lot into marketing, but sadly for them, we steamrolled everything.]
This was the game they'd announced a few years back, swearing they'd abandon their old predatory business model and run it like a generous package-game. Honestly, almost nobody believed that crap.
[The Empire side must have been pretty desperate. With about 200 billion won invested in the game, they needed to recoup development costs. So they broke their promise immediately and slapped the old Revolution-style BM back in.]
"Well, doesn't really matter to us, right? Their whales will still open their wallets."
[The revenue itself isn't terrible, from what I can see. But pulling that stunt on day one caused a massive exodus of the players who were supposed to form their foundation. The game's in a precarious position.]
Honestly, whether they crash and burn or not, I couldn't care less. In fact, considering the industry's growth potential, that company going under would probably do more good.
"...What the hell are they even trying to do?"
It's genuinely baffling. Their IP's power is slowly eroding, their paying users are bleeding out to competing games, and yet they just keep repeating the same tired playbook.
[Maybe their goal is to create a AAA-grade game like ours and then insert their carefully designed BM into it?]
"Does that even make sense? I mean, isn't creating a real AAA game impossible for them in the first place?"
They've been boiling the same Revolution bone for decades. I can't see them making any revolutionary decisions at this point.
[People are free to dream, I suppose. Though from the outside, some are looking at the tech in our game and speculating that we haven't recouped development costs yet.]
"Like you said, they're free to dream. What's the completion rate looking like?"
[Completion rate is 32%. Average daily playtime is 7.2 hours. Of the players who saw the first ending, approximately 88% started a new game plus. All the overall metrics are extremely positive.]
"Jesus, people really are playing this thing nonstop—except when they're eating, sleeping, or working."
[The most encouraging metric is the new game plus rate. Nine out of ten players who reach the ending go for a second playthrough. The fire isn't going to die out anytime soon.]
At this rate, I might need to push back the DLC release date. If I want everyone to be happy, I should only drop the DLC after players have tasted most of the endings in the base game.
Mark — head trader at Black Ridge Capital and one of the five founding members — watched as David, his close colleague and fellow founder, approached.
"Mark. I heard an interesting little rumor. You interested?"
"Given your sense of humor, I'm not sure 'interesting' is the word I'd use..."
"Shut up. Anyway, you might want to hear this."
Mark squinted at the numbers-obsessed weirdo, his eyes full of suspicion.
"We might be getting shorted soon."
"What the hell are you talking about? By who, and on what?"
"Don't know who yet. But I heard where they're targeting."
David grinned and jerked his chin toward one of the monitors Mark had pulled up.
"...Neo Gate? Why would anyone short them after they pulled off a project worth at least a trillion won?"
Mark himself had been skipping dinner, playing the game until he crashed every night after work. He had a visceral sense of just how massive that project was. The proof was right there on the screen — Neo Gate's stock had hit the daily ceiling limit twice in a row, becoming the hottest thing on the Korean stock market.
"Don't tell me — they think the stock's overvalued?"
Mark didn't buy that. Calling a bubble just because a stock that had been suppressed by bad news for so long was finally exploding? That was bullshit. The quality of their new release made it clear the current share price still had room to run.
"That's part of it. But the other angle is that a company with basically Lumina Arcana as its only cash cow would have needed an insane amount of investment to pull off that physics engine and graphics quality. The question is whether they can ever recoup it."
Mark couldn't hold back his laughter.
"Puhahaha! If they want to go see the bottom of the Hudson River, why should we stop them?"
In his career, there were always people warning of danger when everyone else was raising their glasses in celebration. And sometimes — just sometimes — those people turned out to be right, gaining fame and making astronomical sums. But most of the time, betting against the market cost them their careers and their money.
"Only possible because those idiots don't know the internal situation. Guess we'll have to prepare a short squeeze."
Mark had no idea which lunatics would attack, but he was dead certain they'd be going out of business soon. To him, this was just an unexpected event in an otherwise peaceful routine.
"You reported this to Arthur, right?"
He asked just in case his number-obsessed colleague had forgotten to file the report.
"...No, I didn't."
"You crazy bastard. I'll handle it. You're coming with me."
"So, someone's planning to short us?"
[Yes. Arthur reported it a few minutes ago.]
"...Why?"
Actually, no. Thinking about it calmly, I could sort of understand. From their perspective, they probably figure something's wrong — either with our development costs or our stock price. We're planning to clean up the accounting by tracing the slush funds the former chairman siphoned through shell companies and laundering them as legitimate investments or outsourced contracts, so there's no real issue there.
"You haven't picked up anything?"
[Nothing has tripped my surveillance net yet. It seems like this came from an offline conversation — maybe over a meal.]
"Still, take a guess. You should at least be able to narrow down some candidates."
[Hmm... My surveillance just caught one in real time. Someone's gathering data on Neo Gate through data brokers.]
Apex Capital.
One of Wall Street's giant activist hedge funds, well-known for short selling.
"Never heard of 'em."
[They haven't done anything in Korea before, so they're relatively unknown here. There's a firm that connects investors with experts in various fields — essentially an expert network company. Apex has records of paid confidential consultations with former game company CTOs and server engineers.]
"Look at them go... almost makes me feel bad."
Seeing them prepare so hard when they're obviously headed for a crash is kind of pitiful.
"They haven't built positions yet, right?"
[No. They're still gathering evidence and raising capital before opening positions.]
"Then how about we toss out a tasty-looking piece of bait?"
[From what they're gathering, they seem focused on server-related data. Should I post a job listing for a server engineer?]
"But if we post the listing and don't actually hire, we'd just be stringing some desperate person along."
[We could actually use a server engineer. Plenty of places we could put them to work. If it gets complicated, we could post it under the Black Ridge name instead of Neo Gate.]
"Then go ahead and post it. We create a job, and we teach some short-selling scumbags a lesson. Isn't that ultimately doing a good thing?"
It's definitely not because I'm bored.
At the same time, at Apex Capital's headquarters in Manhattan, New York.
Richard, Apex's senior portfolio manager, stood with his back to the glittering New York skyline visible through the window. He was smiling at the thick report sitting on his desk.
This report was the product of thousands of dollars' worth of consultations — former game company executives, server engineers, and developers all paid by the hour to spill their expertise.
"So what if they sold ten million copies? How in hell are they going to handle that insane traffic? And how are they going to manage maintenance after such a reckless move?"
The year was already almost half over, and Richard had been nervous about missing his target returns. Then, right in front of him, a delicious prey had come rolling in: Neo Gate.
"And they priced it low to maximize sales. I have no damn clue how they plan to recoup their costs."
Neo Gate seemed to make nothing but choices that defied his common sense.
"Richard! Found you! It's a smoking gun!"
Just as he was staring at the ceiling, trembling at the thought that nailing this deal would mean a year-end bonus party for the ages, Kevin, his junior analyst, burst through the door.
"Calm down, Kevin. Your tie's crooked."
"Neo Gate just posted a job listing. You need to see this."
Kevin grinned brightly, clearly thinking he'd just made the catch of the day, and shoved a tablet into Richard's hands.
[URGENT HIRING — SERVER ENGINEER
Specializing in traffic overload management and server maintenance cost optimization. Industry-leading compensation guaranteed.]
"Ha! Hahaha! I was right. These idiots are finally realizing something's wrong and screaming bloody murder."
"The experts' analysis was spot on. Judging by the job posting, the company's internal situation looks grim."
Richard jumped up and clapped his hands together.
As a Wall Street elite, a hunting ground was set — a place to burst an amateur company's bubble and pile up vast wealth.
"Contact the Asia market trading desk immediately. I don't care what the fees are — borrow as many shares as possible and short the hell out of them."
"How much leverage should we use?"
"Max it out. Push it to the limit. The moment that bubble bursts, we won't have to worry about meeting our annual target. We'll be living off our bonuses."
They had no idea the delicious-looking meat in front of them was bait. Their mouths were open, ready to swallow it whole.