Chapter 7
Chapter 7
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Translator: Silver Dragon
Chapter: 7
Chapter Title: Bait
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"I used to live in this dorm too. What an amazing coincidence."
"I had no idea you were from Avery House too, Greg."
At my words, Greg shot me a look that said, Of course I was.
"Back then, Avery House was the only dorm equipped with the latest facilities. It was the most popular spot for computer nerds like us."
I nodded in agreement with what he said.
Caltech's eight dorms weren't just places to crash—they were communities, each with their own rules and culture.
Avery House, being the newest one built, stood out for chasing the cutting edge over dusty traditions.
That meant it was always the first to adopt any shiny new tech, which made it irresistible for anyone who loved computers.
"So, shall we get down to business?"
"Let's do it."
Greg had been lost in nostalgia, gazing around Avery House for a moment, but now he snapped back to his professional mode, remembering why he'd come all the way here to see me.
He pulled several documents from his briefcase and spread them out on the table before continuing.
"First off, we reviewed the game you sent. It was so well-made, it didn't even feel like work testing it—more like a vacation."
"Thanks for the high praise."
"This isn't just alumni talk or corporate flattery. It's my honest take as a gamer."
I didn't let Greg's repeated compliments go to my head.
Publishers always start with praise—it's their playbook.
Still, the fact that AE had gotten back to me was a good sign.
They had one of the widest distribution networks in the US right now—hyperbole to call them the biggest, maybe, but close enough. Even a half-baked game would sell decently if AE handled distribution.
Of course, anyone who knew AE's future might curse them as ruthless sharks.
But at this point in time, AE treated developers like rock stars, showering respect on their games without holding back.
And they weren't just publishers—they'd made masterpieces in sports genres like football, soccer, and hockey.
They earned praise from devs and players alike. Folks from the future who knew what AE became later would doubt their ears hearing that.
"Curse of Los Altos Hills. That's inspired by Dawn of the Curse, right?"
"You nailed it."
"Of course. It's not mainstream famous, but horror fans hail it as a masterpiece."
I was a bit surprised by Greg's insight.
A Caltech alum landing at a game company like AE was impressive enough, but knowing his B-movie trivia too?
That film only got rediscovered later when zombie flicks exploded in popularity, so Greg spotting the reference right away was pretty cool.
"That said, game titles need to be straightforward. The current one doesn't tell players what they're getting at a glance."
"I wasn't planning to keep it anyway. It was just a placeholder—I'll tweak it before official release."
"Got it. Any ideas in mind?"
"Dead Hills."
I gave him the title I'd had ready, one that evoked future horror classics while sticking in your head.
Greg clearly loved it, nodding vigorously in approval.
"The demo you sent ends on day 14. How far does the full version go?"
"The full version ends the same way—survive the zombie wave on day 14."
"What? No, that's..."
Greg couldn't hide his shock and disappointment at my answer.
The 14 days fit a demo perfectly, so from his perspective, it must've seemed ridiculously short and underwhelming.
"After that, the game restarts from the beginning."
But that was by design.
The first run to day 14 was basically a tutorial. Once players learned the ropes, they'd pick their difficulty and start over.
"From playthrough two, you get Easy, Normal, and Hard modes. Clear Easy to unlock Normal, Normal for Hard."
"Oh! That's the hot new thing on consoles lately—especially Nendo's Neo Famicon!"
"That's not all. Difficulty doesn't just ramp up enemy strength—the characters and weapons you can unlock change too."
I kept going: Easy mode stretches survival to 30 days total, mega-waves hit every 10 days, special zombies ramp up gradually.
By the time I finished, Greg's expression shifted again.
His eyes sparkled like a boy in love.
That glint of madness in them made me instinctively scoot back a bit.
"It's perfect!!! AE has to publish this game!"
"Sounds good. I think I can trust you, Greg."
Maybe it was my positive reply, but Greg hurried to pull out the contract papers, sliding them over with a pen, like he feared I'd change my mind.
"You won't find terms like these easily! This is A-list developer level stuff—only for top teams!"
His voice brimmed with confidence. His eyes shone with certainty.
But,
This contract is total garbage.
As I slowly read through it, the terms were absurdly outrageous, one after another.
15% royalty on sales.
$50,000 advance.
And the kicker: AE owns the game's IP.
By 21st-century standards, every clause screamed lawsuit bait.
The 15% royalty was the first red flag.
AE taking over 50% as retailer and distributor made sense, but devs getting just 15%? Way too lopsided.
And buried in fine print: that 15% was based on AE's internal pricing, not retail.
$30 base price...? These guys are nuts. Retail stores will sell it for $49-55.
The $50K advance was a joke too.
It's meant as investment for devs mid-development. My game's done—no need for it.
And the worst clause:
- AE owns the game's IP.
This is why devs bled AE dry in lawsuits later...
AE's future cash cows weren't even their originals.
Most were indie hits where AE snatched the full IP and cranked out sequels without permission.
Left a trail of devastated studios in their wake.
I'd expected it, but publishers this era were straight-up thugs.
No need to mull this contract over.
"Greg, I hate wasting time."
"Me too. How about we wrap this up today?"
"I can't sign something like this."
"Pardon?"
His face twisted in confusion, like he couldn't process it.
"I'm not handing over Los Altos—er, Dead Hills IP. And I don't need an advance."
"You might misunderstand that part, but it's not meant to undervalue Dead Hills."
I got his reaction, sort of.
Compared to other publishers then, AE's offer wasn't outlier bad.
If anything, it was industry-average—maybe even generous. That was the crazy part.
They call it the romantic era. Nah, it was built on devs getting screwed raw.
And I'm more used to being the screwer than the screw-ee.
"Huck... You're new to this, don't know the ropes yet. This is the best deal for a first-time dev launching a game."
Seeing me ready to walk, Greg fidgeted, insisting it wasn't a rip-off but the best treatment possible.
Didn't sway me, though.
"Tell you what."
"What do you want? Higher royalty? More advance?"
"Neither. Royalties at 20%... no, 30%."
"What? Huck, even if you hate the deal, don't throw curveballs like—"
"And I keep full IP. I'm only handing AE distribution rights."
When I finished, Greg went dead silent, face frozen in disbelief.
Then he snapped out of it.
"Huck, this isn't AE employee talk—it's your Caltech senior speaking. No publisher in the world would sign that."
He broke down point-by-point why my terms were insane.
"Know how many copies the top PC game this year, Deadzone Survivor 3D, sold?"
"Hmm, around 100,000?"
"Over 110,000 exactly!! And even they got just 25% royalties."
Id Software's FPS pioneer and masterpiece, Deadzone Survivor 3D.
Did it sell only 100K? Or a whopping 100K for the era?
Didn't matter. I had faith.
Demon Slayer next year might compete, but Dead Hills won't lag behind any game out there. Hell, it's the best.
Greg kept persuading, but I stuck firm to my terms—or no deal.
Finally, he sighed in defeat, packing the papers back into his bag.
"Huck, you sure you won't regret this? Next time, you might not even get these terms."
"Greg, here's my prediction: In a month, you'll come back offering exactly what I asked."
He lingered, trying one last pitch.
But my firm no sent him off with a glum face—unlike our first meeting.
Feel a little bad.
But if my plan panned out, we'd meet again soon. I shelved the guilt.
Ring ring.
Right after Greg left my room, the phone rang like it was waiting.
"Hello?"
"Huck! It's Jamie! I convinced the editor-in-chief!"
"Great. I'll mail the updated demo right away."
"Perfect. When should we run it in the magazine?"
"You can publish now. I just cast the bait today."
Jamie sounded thrilled over the line, eager to write up the article ahead of time.