The Brutal Truth of Gacha Games

"A problem…."

"Yeah, if there's a problem, what problem do you mean?! There has to be a reason!"

Vermilla demanded with an excited face.

Her ears and tail stood straight up in protest, and it made perfect sense.

'Gamers who trash-talk developers have extremely strong egos.'

Usually developers liken games to their own children.

But that's just a metaphor.

'It means they're precious, of course. They're not actually children.'

But trash-talking developers treat them like real children.

Vermilla was entitled to a sincere answer for everything she asked for.

I cleared my throat, picked up the eraser again, and continued.

"First of all, a game isn't just about making it look good."

"What nonsense is that?!"

"You need a precise understanding of the target audience you want to attract."

Vermilla had already manipulated her own game.

Since I was logged in with a developer account, every character was unlocked.

But the moment I stepped inside, it felt way too detailed and finicky.

"Take a look at this character."

"Nya~"

Vermilla stared at the tiny beastman character she had modified.

A cat beastman thief.

The tail was wagging back and forth, so it was clearly well-made.

"It looks great. What's the problem?"

"If this were a turn-based strategy game, there'd be no issue."

I opened its info window.

"This is the classic support character you only see in proper turn-based strategy games."

"Exactly! Perfect balance, nya!"

"Right. Utility supports are essential in strategy games. But…."

I placed the eraser down and looked Vermilla straight in the eye.

"What you're making right now is a gacha game."

"What's the problem?!"

Even after dropping that huge hint, Vermilla blinked in confusion.

I sighed. "Vermilla, in a real strategy game this level of tooltip and fine detail fits perfectly."

"Of course! Turn-based strategy means building parties and strategies carefully—you don't solo everything!"

"But the moment you switch to a character-collecting game, the entire premise flips."

"Nya?"

Vermilla wagged her tail in bewilderment.

But Melody, who had been listening quietly, clapped her hands with understanding.

"Ah! I get it now!"

"Yes! That's exactly the important point I was trying to make!"

Yet Vermilla's claws sharpened and she threatened us with a menacing glare.

"You're joking! Stop sharing things only I don't understand!"

"Try it yourself. Play back your own game."

"Kya~"

Vermilla snatched the eraser in a flash.

She set it back to her own creation, built a perfect five-person party, and cleared the final stage without a hitch.

"See? My perfect skill, nya!"

Vermilla puffed out her chest, tail swishing with pride.

But even though her understanding was obviously solid, there was one fatal flaw.

I snatched the eraser back from her.

"But that's not how turn-based strategy gamers play."

I picked the level-cap character I liked best.

I tapped stage one, sent only that one unit out, and crushed it effortlessly.

Victory screen flashed.

"What kind of difference is that?!"

"A huge one."

I set the eraser down. Vermilla still looked puzzled that I had soloed stage one.

I told her the cruel truth of gacha games.

"In a gacha game, there is no such thing as perfect tactics or deep brain battles. If a player has poured money and time into max-leveling a waifu, that single character should be able to steamroll stage one by itself. Your game demands a five-person party strategy even for stage one, so no one bothers."

"…This is hard to understand. Won't that make the game boring?!"

"Gacha games are like arranging a flower in a vase. You water it, add fertilizer, and admire the beauty. No one wants to show off insane physical or mental stats. It's tiring."

"……!"

Vermilla's cat ears twitched.

Only then did they droop.

"Anyway, now that you understand why the professor rejected your game?"

"Ugh…! You heartless bastard!"

Vermilla fumed, tail swishing angrily.

But no matter how she protested, capitalism never changes. I grabbed my bag and waved lightly.

"The consultation fee is already ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠in. Call me when you need extra hands."

"Kyaaaaah!"

"And add settings players will love! Not dry text!"

Leaving Vermilla's furious shriek behind, Melody and I left the lecture hall laughing.

Studying is fun.

Because it means I don't have to work.

When we returned to the studio I received from the chairperson, Melody and I slumped in our chairs.

"Unfortunately, we have to work."

"Work is the scourge of humanity. I just wish I'd lived my life playing games forever…."

"Yeah…."

I nodded at Melody's words, then jumped.

Unfortunately, we were slaves of capitalism who had to work simply because we had been born. We hurried back to our seats.

Lumine sat there with half-dead eyes, mechanically manipulating the eraser.

'The once-frisky lewd demon tension is completely gone.'

What's left is no longer the underground illustrator, just a burned-out "graphic artist slave number one."

Lumine looked up at us with dead eyes and asked in a weary voice.

"…You're back?"

"Yeah."

She couldn't draw the pretty pictures she wanted and just kept chopping polygons all day.

"Senior… when do we get to rest?"

"Once the beta version is done and ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠launched to the cloud, we can take a day off."

"Nooooo!!!

Bang! Ting-a-ling!

Just as Lumine's wail reached a fever pitch, Hafne slammed her head on the piano keys from the corner.

The discordance tore through the studio.

Hafne groaned while face-down on the keys.

"Ha… we're a small elite team. We have to push through."

"True."

Only four people total—a tiny indie team that barely deserves the name "company." An elite team we are.

Lumine tilted her head. "But if it's an elite team full of talented people, shouldn't that be good?"

"That's just packaging. In real life, a small elite team means 'if one person poops, the whole team dies.'"

Like a five-versus-five team fight in an MOBA.

The three of us stared at me with blank faces, but there was no denying the truth.

I sat down and quietly checked the results of last week's work.

The studio was silent except for the soft sound of typing.

Meanwhile, I refined the rank game concept I had talked about with Melody earlier and handed it to Lumine.

"I just made this. Can you work on it?"

"What is it?"

Lumine gave me the same disdainful look she always does when I drop extra work on her.

'To some people that look is a reward…'

I don't have that kind of hobby.

"Oh, this is the highest rank tier. More like an emblem for the top rankers."

"…Not much."

Lumine sighed in relief, hand on her chest.

But my sentence wasn't over yet.

"And every season we have to create new skins as rank rewards for users who reach certain score thresholds."

"You demon!"

Lumine's expression turned grotesque, as if she had eaten spoiled meat.

"Ah, it's mandatory work."

In competitive games, without rank rewards, how are players supposed to play…?

Glance!

Yet Lumine's expression was still off.

She stole a look at the eraser she was working on and shot a glance at my head.

I knew exactly what she wanted.

"…You can't hit a person's head with the eraser."

"I know. I wouldn't do that much. The eraser is too valuable."

"The person is important, but the eraser is more important?"

"The person who gives me work isn't a person, he's a demon."

"……."

Seeing the half-elf illustrator's frustration, I figured I wouldn't last long in this company.

Lumine grumbled, but soon started working.

"…Anyway, is there anything else?"

Finally I returned to my desk and did the small tasks.

Sent an email, checked that the upcoming beta version would run smoothly.

Then I peeked into the Liscode server and observed the players' moods.

'Let's see.'

Any interesting voices today?

'The Liscode server needs expansion…'

I casually watched the servers.

Liscode was always peaceful.

I watched the peaceful, ordinary chat users.

But when I checked the balance channel, as always, the petty ego battles between players were raging.

'Peaceful.'

If the balance debate channel was peaceful, that would be a serious problem.

So these fights were just normal.

But suddenly a message appeared in the channel.

"……!"

I stared at the monitor, eyes wide.

'Here it comes.'

Finally the players who still believed in the ancient meta of two Roamers and three Laners were reaching the end of their rope.

They had finally realized the efficiency of the "specialist Jungler" and were arguing over how to use the leftover slot.

This was the first spark that would ignite the EU meta war in the balance channel.