Chapter 35
Chapter 35
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Translator: Silver Dragon
Chapter: 35
Chapter Title: New Game
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"Did you really buy all of this?"
"It's necessary, isn't it?"
Jane's eyes widened like a rabbit's.
"No way... All this equipment together has to have cost at least ten million won, right?"
It was certainly enough to be surprised about.
Not only had they renovated part of the empty fourth floor into a dedicated sound workspace, but they'd also bought every piece of monitoring gear, composition tools, and sound production equipment imaginable.
And that wasn't all—there were plenty of other gadgets too, but none of it was just wasteful spending.
Sound directing depends on the director's skill, sure, but you can't ignore top-tier gear.
I'd always thought there was no dumber saying than "a craftsman doesn't blame his tools."
A true craftsman makes sure to get the best tools possible to draw out their maximum potential, no matter what it takes.
"Aren't you pushing it too hard?"
Even as she asked, her face etched with worry about the company's finances, Jane couldn't stop caressing the equipment in the sound studio like it was a baby.
"It's fine, really. The company's made a ton of money already, and more's coming in."
"We make money from anything besides games?"
"Microsoft's sending us ten million dollars a year, and Uni already paid five million upfront as contract money."
"W-wait... Ten... ten million dollars? That's a hundred billion won! Are you serious?!"
Jane's hands shook so badly she could barely speak at the figures coming out of my mouth.
"Why so shocked? In two years, we might be pulling in a hundred million."
I recalled what had happened at the negotiations with Uni last time.
'We'll pay ten million upfront. The only condition: the next Savior game's exclusive launch on our Uni hardware.'
Agaraki Ken had offered ten million just for exclusivity on a game that hadn't even been announced yet.
For consoles, success hinged on securing third-party titles, so the desperation from Uni was clear in that amount.
But I'd turned it down.
'Half that upfront is fine. Instead...'
'Instead?'
'I want running royalties.'
Running royalties.
The term was used across industries, but in gaming, it meant additional payments from the platform holder to the developer whenever certain sales milestones were hit.
'You're serious?'
'Five million at one million units, twenty million at five million, and finally, a hundred million at ten million units.'
Agaraki Ken, head of Uni's information processing lab, had stared at me with shaking eyes, questioning if I was serious about my counteroffer.
Honestly, it was a crazy proposal.
If Scarlett had heard it,
'This deal ignores all risk! There's no guarantee the game will succeed, and instead of raising the upfront, you're slashing it...'
She might've despaired.
Ken seemed to think the same, double-checking if I was really okay with it before finally accepting—
'From Uni's perspective, it wasn't a bad deal.
In the worst case, if Savior's next game flopped, they'd save on the upfront—lucky them. Even if it hit ten million and they paid a hundred million in royalties,
a ten-million-selling game would be the flagship title for Uni's new console, so a hundred million to the developer making that flagship was steep but doable.
"But... those running royalties only pay out if the game sells well, right?"
At first, Jane nearly fainted in shock when I said the next game could net up to a hundred million in royalties.
She froze like someone turned to stone by Medusa from the myths—quite the sight.
Snapping out of it, she shook her head and pointed out the obvious: it was money we wouldn't get if sales tanked.
"It's guaranteed money."
"Huh?"
"You're scoring the music this time, Jane. No way it'd be worse than last time."
"Wha—no! Don't just spring that on me!"
I hadn't realized it before, but young Jane was surprisingly fun to tease.
"You haven't even told me what the next game's gonna be."
Her face flushed beet red after my little joke, and she hurriedly changed the subject.
The staff had been asking about the new project since Village Maker wrapped, but I'd been holding off on purpose.
It's not finalized yet.
Two games were floating in my head right now.
I was still deciding between them, so I'd told everyone I'd reveal it after their vacations.
"That wasn't a joke, Jane."
"What?"
"Your music is the key to this game."
And one of those two games absolutely needed Jane's talents.
***
Orientalism.
Jane's mind was filled with thoughts of the term she'd learned in high school.
Orientalism referred to the Western gaze on the East—their perceptions and frameworks.
For example, viewing the West as rational and civilized, while seeing the East as emotional and barbaric.
A blatantly racist, culturally biased view.
Even living in America, Jane—as Korean to her core—found it deeply offensive.
Do they really eat dogs in Korea? So savage.
When she'd first come to study in the States, plenty of Americans were trapped in that Orientalist mindset.
Questions like "Do you have skyscrapers in Korea?" were bad enough, but "Do you really eat dogs?" came up hundreds of times.
And that was just the start.
Asian girls lose their minds for white guys, right?
Guys spewing sexual harassment were everywhere.
Come say that to my face, you psycho.
Every time, Jane didn't hold back—she swung.
Kyokushin Karate, black belt.
Most Koreans who trained picked taekwondo.
But Jane's father was a direct disciple of Choi Bae-dal, Kyokushin Karate's founder, and headed its Korean branch.
So naturally, he'd trained his daughter in Kyokushin from childhood instead.
She'd stubbornly insisted on music because she hated the sweat smell, barely escaping the Kyokushin world.
But skills learned didn't just vanish.
As adults say, training always comes in handy—and across the ocean in America, her Kyokushin shone.
First target: the football team captain.
She didn't even remember his name—he ended up with cracked ribs. Second: a swaggering group of black jazz club guys. They got their heads busted and had to take leaves.
After that, Jane occasionally smashed racists who crossed her path.
Before long, she'd conquered Berkeley's music school not with notes, but fists.
She even got the nickname "Chichi"—the Eastern woman warrior wielding qi energy.
Drifting in those flashy college memories for a moment...
All that made Orientalism feel like nothing but racist Western stares to Jane.
But,
'Racist, cultural bias—sure, important elements... but what good does shoving that into a game do?'
'Huh?'
'Games are all about fun. Orientalism basically means Westerners expect something mystical from the East, right? Let's deliver it perfectly.'
Sun Woo-hyuk, CEO of Savior where Jane had recently joined, was suggesting they use even Orientalism as a sales tool.
She'd nearly gotten angry at first, but his follow-up had real persuasive power.
'Changing perceptions of the East won't come from accurately depicting Eastern culture.'
'Then what will?'
'Popular works. Look at Japan's ninjas.'
Ninjas.
Real Japanese spies, but in the West, they were mystical warriors with bizarre techniques and weapon mastery.
'Japan knows the ninja image in the West doesn't match reality, but they don't bother correcting it. Because it's cool.'
Japan had long grasped soft power through culture.
They commercially exploited their altered ninja image.
'Meanwhile, our homeland Korea flips out over any tweak to traditional culture.'
True enough.
In Korea, dramas or films got flak for the slightest historical inaccuracy all the time.
'We'll make a game blending every mystical legend from Korea, China, and Japan.'
Sun Woo-hyuk told Jane one of his planned games perfectly matched Orientalism.
Hearing the details, chills ran down her spine.
She instantly understood why he'd declared Savior would focus on game engines, not games, for a while.
'Will this really work?'
It was intriguing, but so radical—unprecedented—that she worried if the public would buy it.
'To perfect this game, we need your music, Jane. Something dreamlike yet thrilling, captivating players from East or West alike.'
That was Sun Woo-hyuk's special order amid her game worries.
Make music that nailed Orientalism and fit the game he envisioned.
'Deadline: when the staff return from vacation. If it's not satisfying by then, we'll have to pivot to another project.'
From that moment, Jane couldn't stop trembling.
Not nerves or pressure.
Confidence and excitement that only she could create the perfect score for Savior's next game. Her body shook with it.