Chapter 28
Chapter 28
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Translator: Silver Dragon
Chapter: 28
Chapter Title: Launch
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America was an incredibly vast country.
The uninhabited areas were far more expansive than the places where people actually lived.
However, that enormous territory was both an advantage and a disadvantage.
For those in distribution, for example, America's sheer size made it a nightmare to manage—enough to make you sick to your stomach.
And thanks to this poor distribution infrastructure, American retail stores shared a peculiar trait.
"Why the hell are they selling this here?"
It was a sight foreign tourists often witnessed: random, out-of-place items stocked in completely unrelated marts or shops.
This happened because distribution was so tough that stores stocked anything that might sell, regardless of category.
Games were especially prone to this. While big marts were the usual outlets, small convenience stores and supermarkets often sold them too.
Even pharmacies—businesses with zero connection to gaming—set up game displays.
- SOLD OUT -
"Does this even make sense?"
A man thought to himself as he hung a sold-out sign on the game display.
In Connecticut, one of America's 50 states.
Peter, who ran a pharmacy in the small town of Danbury, Connecticut, still couldn't believe the chaos he'd just witnessed.
"Where's Village Maker?"
"Over there in the game section..."
Even before the pharmacy's 9 a.m. opening, a crowd of young men had lined up outside.
Peter had almost called the cops, thinking they were robbers, but realizing they were customers, he flung the doors open in a panic.
Connecticut winters weren't the harshest, but mornings were chilly. Their red noses looked like they'd been drinking—or waiting since dawn.
The moment he opened, the rush headed straight for the game shelf.
Peter had set up a small display on a whim, figuring games were trendy and might sell in the empty space.
Kids occasionally spotted them while shopping with parents, threw tantrums, and got bought one reluctantly—decent side income. But people coming specifically for games? Never.
"This game's distributor requested strictly one per customer, so no multiples."
"Damn... Everywhere's the same, just one each. Fine, ring this one up!"
"Yes, sir..."
The guy at the front of the line set down his extras, bought one, and vanished like his business was done.
The next person's hand held the exact same package.
Village Maker
The supplier had dumped a whole box on Peter, insisting it'd sell like hotcakes.
He'd nearly refused—his pharmacy sold maybe a box a month at best—but they promised returns if unsold.
He took the bait.
"Damn it! Should've grabbed two—no, three boxes back then."
Peter regretted it deeply.
By noon, just before lunch, the entire box was gone.
"Congrats on the sell-out!"
"Not just me—everyone here deserves the credit."
"True. Jackson and the design team especially busted their asses."
The office buzzed with festivity after my business trip to Boston to recruit Jane.
"Can you believe it? Village Maker sold out its first-week print run in just seven days!"
"I figured 500,000 copies would take half a year easy..."
"This thing might hit a million?!"
AE had printed 500,000 copies as our initial run after discussions with us. Today, a week post-launch, they were all gone.
Honestly, even I can't wrap my head around it.
Dead Hills had sold 500,000 total too, but over a year plus. Not comparable.
Selling half a million was a miracle in this era.
PC penetration in U.S. households hovered just over 20%.
That still meant 20 million homes—not insignificant.
Village Maker in 2.5% of those? Insane.
Factor in future sales, and market share was anyone's guess. No wonder the team was hyped.
"Seen the article, Huck?"
"Which one?"
"This."
Scarlett showed me the article.
Below the headline: a photo of people rubbing hands against winter chill in line.
- On a frigid winter day, folks lining up at dawn just to buy a game...
"Lines? Didn't see that coming."
"The limited edition 1,000-copy lottery for launch hit big."
"Limited editions are universal catnip, huh."
"Even in Korea?"
I nodded at Scarlett's question.
Korea loved them obsessively—borderline pathetic compared to America.
Memories of every product slapped with "limited" flooded back, making me shudder.
Man, the crap I pulled for sneakers...
Still, I'd leveraged that experience here.
For Village Maker's launch limited edition, we prepped a new package—different from the demo.
"Why not reuse the demo bundle? Saves cash..."
Rogers suggested copying it outright.
But rarity mattered.
Identical contents? Folks might accept, but different? Madness-inducing.
Worse, it devalues the demo limiteds instantly.
Lottery winners aside, some paid big for those. Straight-up scam.
Mobile gacha games pulled similar stunts later.
One swore no reruns on a character, raking in cash—then snuck a "special" rerun. Korean devs might weather the backlash, but this foreign one? Massive lawsuits and payouts.
"Sales so far owe to our marketing, Dead Hills halo, and Eidos' fumble."
Still, no complacency.
"Right. Week one's done—a week in, word-of-mouth kicks off soon."
Scarlett, ex-Seton marketing lead, knew week two was make-or-break.
Good games ride buzz steadily; bad ones crater.
"But no worries here."
"Huh?"
Scarlett grinned, pointing to a corner.
There:
"This is nuts... Why's gifting golden koi more fun than strategies?"
"Nooo!!! I went all-in on wheat this time!"
Rogers muttered at his monitor, baffled; Jason wailed in defeat.
"Whoa... This is more than surprising."
"That much, Division Head?"
"'Surprising' doesn't cut it. Honestly? Might be better than me."
The man dubbed "Division Head" marveled, tongue clicking.
His subordinate looked flustered instead.
"You're joking, right? No director tops you."
"Can't say that. Nakai Yuto at Seton? Stellar dev. Then Honda Yuuji of Dragon Mission, Satoshi of Last Fantasy?"
The subordinate shook his head vehemently.
"They're great, sure. But you made 'Nendo,' emperor of consoles."
"Gunpei Vice President deserves more..."
"He's amazing, but you're the director etching your name in history."
The man acted like a cult zealot.
Arai Ren, from Nendo's game dev division.
He idolized his boss, Information Development Division Head Miyazaki Suguru, borderline worship.
Suguru praising a new game as potentially superior? Unacceptable.
Super Daniel, Legend of the Elves, new Star of Kobyi. No one tops the man who made those.
Ren's reaction wasn't odd.
Worldwide—even Japan—"best game director?" Ninety-nine out of a hundred said Suguru.
"Played Village Maker yet?"
"Not yet."
"Knock off early then. Try it and we'll talk."
"Huh?"
"Games are our job, after all."
Ren protested—he couldn't leave early—but Suguru shoved a hard-won Village Maker package into his hands and booted him out.
"Sigh... Americans go 'okay' and bounce. Japanese staff? Too rigid."
Suguru sighed in the now-empty office.
His eyes returned to Village Maker on-screen.
His hands drifted to mouse and keyboard.
Finally, a game I wanna play nonstop. Don't wanna be interrupted.
Legendary director Suguru.
At heart, just a gamer in love with games.
