Chapter 122
The heroes weren't exactly sitting idle—everyone had surpassed a certain level—but Doyun hyung was the only one who flaunted it openly, so it never really felt like we were in some otaku club. Plus, the memories of our hero party were still too vivid. But when you pieced together Yoo Seol-ah's occasional comments, she was a true prodigy through and through.
"...Anyway, I don't really wanna jump in as a character."
"Got it. I'll note that down for now."
Doyun hyung, seated at the computer, started tapping away at the keyboard. The beam projector linked to his screen flickered to life, and soon a program launched.
"I've referenced a ton of other games and whipped up a basic framework. It's just the skeleton, though—no art assets yet."
"...Already? Weren't we at the MT last week?"
"We were. I tinkered on my laptop here and there while we partied."
"...Impressive."
To keep working on this even during the MT? That was next-level obsession with development. He clearly cherished our club, but I suspected he just loved game dev that much. And while this was wishful thinking on our part, maybe he wanted to nail down the game's outline quick to get closer to Lee Seo-yeon. He'd even talked about striking it big with his own game, starting a company, and then facing her as an equal—not an impossible dream.
"Grab a seat on the sofa and get comfy. It's not that fancy."
"Sure."
The three of us settled into the plush sofa in front of the beam projector, and Doyun hyung kicked off a presentation with his usual thoughtful explanations.
"I asked around with folks I know and prepped a bunch of samples."
The projector displayed what looked like a text-based game—pure white and black backgrounds with just words.
"Any collectible RPG needs combat, so that's gotta be locked in first."
Even from my knowledge of subculture collectible games, combat varied wildly: real-time, turn-based, puzzle-style, auto or manual—tons of categories.
"But we're short on manpower. High-end real-time PC combat is basically impossible."
"With just four of us?"
"Yeah. We should scrap full real-time. If we add any, it has to be cute and simple."
I didn't know the details, but the games I knew had massive teams behind them. Even if we each handled our specialties, manpower shortage was unavoidable. Our edge? Yoo Seol-ah's magic and our Astasia-acquired powers could slash character creation time.
"Characters are king in subculture games, but boring combat kills success. They draw you in with charm, but can't hold you."
The next slide showed a web of routes—tons of them. Clicking one pulled up gameplay footage from Doyun hyung's previous game, SOS.
"SOS was lucky, but combat got good reviews. Some called it brain-melting, but it built a core fanbase."
"I watched playthroughs recently. Looked super fun."
After hearing he developed SOS, Yoo Seol-ah and I binged videos at home. He downplayed it, but SOS was a acclaimed indie gem, even among roguelike fans who griped about its brutality. The genre's staple "die and restart" meshed with its savage difficulty—plenty cursed it, but those were the good kind of curses, the ones that hooked you for another run.
"I obsessed over the combat system. Glad folks liked it."
"Hearing it from you makes it sound even cooler."
He'd minimized RNG frustration in fights to offset roguelike stress—though other parts threw randomness at you. Art and sound were solid, but the core ideas were genius.
"Not reusing much from SOS, though. It was deliberately grim and tough."
"Yeah. So this one's brighter?"
"Each has pros and cons, but hopeful vibes feel right."
"Makes sense? We trust you, oppa. Games are new territory for us."
"Looking at Seol-ah's illustrations, one atmosphere jumps out."
Even same-character art can shift tones wildly. Yoo Seol-ah's radiated positivity, so unless we wanted twists, bright and upbeat fit best.
"These are prelim samples. I'll demo a few combat systems—feedback welcome."
Doyun hyung fiddled with controls. We started to react, then zipped it like we'd rehearsed, eyes glued to the screen. Straw dummies bore our Astasia names where characters should be, but the intuitiveness hit first. No effects, yet combat flow was crystal clear—perfect demo material.
Yoo Seol-ah, who'd watched quietly, turned and asked, "...Did you study design, oppa?"
"Enough to dodge pitfalls. Tons of trial-and-error with SOS."
Easy to see why. Intuitiveness boiled down to uncluttered screens—key for newbies like me. Cluttered UIs ruined most generic games. But his demo packed essentials without mess; even dummies body-slamming looked adorable.
"Basic skill-based turn combat. That's option one."
"...Honestly, this matches what I pictured when we started. Just slot in some art...?"
She sounded deflated. If clueless newbies like us built from scratch, it'd take a month for this. Lee Seo-yeon, mirroring her shock, eyed him suspiciously.
"...This is just number one? How many more?"
"Four total, including this. Time crunch—couldn't prep everything."
"......"
Silence from the three of us. We were used to each other's talents shocking us, but this was a lot. As the dev noob rep, I asked, "...How many days for this?"
"Started recently, so all four in about a week?"
"......"
Even with my basic knowledge, it felt like magic. He handled mana fine, but could heroes code spells into computers?
"You all could do it too—with training. Interested? I'll teach."
"...Joking, right?"
"Yeah, total joke."
Like saying anyone could illustrate like Yoo Seol-ah with practice. Chuckling it off, he typed again.
"This one's turn-based too, but with range. Bows and daggers having same reach always bugged me."
"Daggers can hit far—with mana or whatever... Sorry."
I half-defended daggers, but her thigh smack shut me up.
Next came auto-combat with player input, all matching the first's polish. We watched intently, but Lee Seo-yeon—deep in thought—spoke up.
"...Seriously, if I invested for real, what do you think?"
"Capital helps. Can't guarantee success, but promos for a breakout need big bucks."
Pausing thoughtfully, he added, "Worst case, if you can't pay back, I'll eat your homemade breakfast till I die. Might work?"
"...Uh, wha...?"
Her brain short-circuited from the flirt. We glanced at her, then him.
...Hyung, you doing this on purpose? He'd admitted knowing her feelings; it was blatant courtship. Only oblivious Seo-yeon couldn't judge rationally. His constant smile made his true intentions a mystery.