The Next Game
Here comes the next project. Everyone, focus. We’re wrapping up today’s presentation and I’ll let you all go home right away. I’m guessing we’ll finish before noon. Would you like me to get lunch for you? Like a year-end party vibe? It’s the first day of the new year tomorrow, after all.
“No!”
Cha Ju-hee answered in a flash, like a cat that had just caught a whiff of fishy odor. The quick “no” hit me as slightly disappointing.
“Tsk. I was looking forward to wagyu. Daniel, everyone says they don’t want to go. Let’s just take the two of us.”
“Director! I’m super excited! I really want to go!”
“Then Seok-ho, you’re coming too.”
“Yes!”
Lunch plans settled, I switched on the beam projector and began showing the concepts in slides.
“This game we’re developing is a PC game.”
“M-May I ask why?”
“Good question, Jae-min.”
I had known for months that the mobile game market was about to explode, so I had already prepared Dot Hero for mobile. But the biggest market share still belonged to PC and console. Console was off-limits, so I chose PC.
‘Right now is the dawn of the mobile era, but it’s also the year Storm rises.’
For a small indie studio like ours, this was the perfect time. A giant platform was stretching its wings wide open.
“Everyone works at game studios, so you all know Storm, right?”
The employees nodded. They clearly understood.
“As the mobile game market grows, Storm’s influence is only getting stronger. Before Storm, PC games were mostly online titles or packaged CDs you bought at stores. Now you can shop for games from the comfort of home. That change in accessibility really caught my eye.”
“Accessibility is huge, yeah. Before I got hired, I used Storm all the time.”
“Before you were hired? You don’t use it anymore?”
“B-But I have to go home to play….”
I ignored Jae-min’s wide-eyed gaze full of questions and kept going.
“Unlike when I was doing everything myself on Dot Hero—programming, graphics, balancing, planning—now that you’re all here, I can tackle a much larger-volume PC game.”
Of course, the biggest reason was simply that I wanted to create this game. I moved to the next slide and explained why I had chosen PC as the platform.
“The genre is horror survival, as I said earlier. Think of it as surviving monsters.”
“Surviving? So it’s like running away from monsters?”
“No. It’s more like actively seeking them out.”
“You’re going to find monsters?”
“Does anyone know about the Weird Fiction genre?”
Everyone stayed quiet, but only Jeon Seong-bae raised his hand.
“As expected. I knew you would.”
“Haha, common sense.”
“Can you explain it in a way everyone can understand?”
Seong-bae thought for a second, then spoke.
“When I was little, I heard all kinds of weird stories. Like the red-masked guy or the elevator buttons that take you to another world.”
“I’ve heard those too.”
“That kind of story plus strange creatures and phenomena—that’s the Weird Fiction genre. A subgenre of horror mystery.”
“It’s not just ghosts or monsters?”
Jeon Seong-bae nodded at Kim Min-ji’s question.
“Exactly. For example… a vending machine that looks ordinary but fills your cup with every liquid on Earth. Or a book that gives you alien knowledge the moment you read it. Supernatural objects that break human logic. It doesn’t have to be objects—it could be phenomena.”
“Ah~”
Everyone looked like they finally understood the genre.
“Director! Is the next game a Weird Fiction title?”
“No.”
“Really?”
“It’s actually Isolation Fiction.”
The genre famous for the S○P Foundation.
‘When did that even start?’
In Korea it became popular in the 2020s, but it’s actually been around for a while. Even if it’s still a niche genre that only fans know, its fanbase is solid.
“Are ghosts or creatures like that really real?”
“Of course not.”
“How do you know, Min-ji? Maybe some huge organization is hiding the truth from us.”
“You can’t cover the sky with your palm.”
“That hand might be huge. Can you be sure there’s no super-national organization trying to stop the truth from spreading and chaos breaking out?”
“…”
Kim Min-ji’s face changed to the expression of someone watching something utterly pathetic. She was working in a company run by a CEO who lived for conspiracy theories.
The longer the silence stretched, the more I sensed she might actually quit. I hurried to explain.
“That idea is exactly how Isolation Fiction was born. It’s a mix of urban fantasy and Weird Fiction. The core of the genre is a super-national organization protecting and isolating humanity from anomalies.”
Everyone nodded, clearly getting it.
“So the player becomes a member of that organization?”
“Exactly.”
The player would be part of a group called the Management Bureau and be sent to suppress and retrieve anomalies that had escaped from isolation facilities.
“Just imagining it sounds terrifying. An isolation facility where ghosts, bizarre creatures, and supernatural objects have all gone wild. Blood everywhere, bodies everywhere. It gives me chills.”
“I love it! That’s exactly what a genre should feel like!”
“But we’re going to break the rules. The cruel scenes you’d normally expect in horror—nope. Not in this game.”
“We’re deliberately lowering the core horror element of the genre.”
“Why?! Then the genre’s identity disappears! Can a scary movie be scary if it’s not scary? Can a horror game be a horror game if it’s not scary?!”
Well, it was about popularity.
Horror is a minor genre among the major ones. Its fans are dedicated, but there are way more people who would rather die than play horror games.
“We’ll lower the barriers with cartoon-like graphics that feel more approachable. The inevitable cruel scenes that come with the genre will be lightly stylized.”
“Then, like Seong-bae said, it’ll end up being neither here nor there?”
“Jae-min, good question, but there’s something you’re all missing. People don’t only feel horror through visual stimuli.”
We can feel horror from a sharp wind, or get goosebumps from cold air. We can create a scary atmosphere with just sound.
And horror doesn’t come only from one thing.
“Does a scary ghost have to appear and someone have to die? The very fact that something is lurking out there can be terrifying.”
The fact that the anomalies the player will face are completely random also lowers the fear.
The player’s organization, the Management Bureau, will drop them at the scene without giving any information. Why? Because even the Bureau doesn’t know what’s coming.
So the player has to investigate on the spot and figure out what they’re facing.
Of course, since the anomalies are random, the solutions will vary too. Can’t find any clues and fail to guess the anomaly?
‘Game over. Too bad.’
If you don’t want to die, you’d better figure out the anomaly’s identity.
“Hey. Boss. Question.”
“Huh. Daniel. What?”
“Visually we’re diluting the horror with a comic feel, and we’ll fill the gaps with BGM. Random anomalies are great. But… why horror? You care more about popularity than anything. Even if we dilute the horror, it’s still a horror game, right?”
Daniel was right. No matter how hard you try to make it popular, the genre itself is mystery and scary, so there’s a limit to how much you can dilute it. But if we throw it away entirely, there’s no point in doing this genre.
But as a regressor, I’m certain.
‘This genre will work.’
The core male audience won’t care about age—they’ll love it. The setting itself is tailor-made for them.
Joining a super-national, powerful secret organization.
Becoming an operative like a special forces agent.
Facing anomalies that instinctively terrify people for the sake of humanity.
Plenty of room to dig deeper. Even if it gets too maniacal when you go deep, it’s still fascinating if you just feel it lightly.
And the most important thing? I like it.
“It’s not famous yet, so no one knows, but guys love this kind of thing.”
“No. What evidence?”
“I just learned about this genre today.”
At this point in time, yes, popularity is lacking. I had thought about that too.
But what we’re making is a game.
Lack of awareness or popularity is solved if the game is fun.
“The evidence is my gut feeling. Quick proof? Seong-bae, do guys like this?”
“Of course! Who wouldn’t love creatures?”
“Seok-ho, what about you?”
“I think it’s fun too! Having to guess what kind of creature it is and react—that sounds super interesting!”
“I-I think it’s okay. T-To be honest, I’ve never heard of this genre before, so I don’t know much. But after reading the plan, it feels like it’ll work. H-Horror games aren’t my favorite, but lowering the horror elements with graphics…”
See? Everyone likes it.
I looked at Daniel expectantly. He shook his head.
“Am I the weird one? You should be studying games.”
“You should try it sometime.”
The guy who works in the industry thinks he can shield himself by saying he hasn’t played many games lately. When I have free time, I’ll force him to play masterpieces.
“Alright! Thank you all for listening. That’s it for today’s presentation.”
“Wooah!!”
“Instead of sending you home early, however, you’ll have to study the genre of the next game. I tried to explain as much as I could in PPT, but most of you only understood it intellectually, not with the emotional feel of the genre, did you? Don’t expect expert level—just come in as beginners. That’s all.”
“Thank you, Director!”
I watched the employees hurriedly packing up, fearing I might change my mind. I scratched my head.
‘I’m not the type to go back on my word….’
Anyone watching would think I’m keeping them from going home. I’m only delaying them; I still send them home every day.
“Oh, I forgot to ask. Anyone who didn’t go to lunch? We’re having wagyu. Did anyone change their mind?”
No one said a word.
*
I pulled back the blackout curtains and was greeted by the dim pre-dawn sky that was uniquely dark in winter.
“What a refreshing morning.”
I had left work early yesterday and slept at 11, so the accumulated fatigue from the past few days was completely gone. And knowing I would start the next game today made me happier than I could say.
My mood lifted, I headed to the bathroom for a quick wash.
“Brushing teeth, washing hair, showering… This is a small happiness.”
When I lived in a basement one-room, warm water was hard to come by. Now that I had a decent one-room, I could actually enjoy it. It felt good all over again.
I finished quickly and came out to the living room to make a simple breakfast.
“Today’s menu: English breakfast~”
Breakfast was always the same, so it wasn’t new, but the pleasant mood made the same recipe taste even better.
While eating, I checked my phone.
The messages that came while I slept. Today was the first day of the year, so they were asking after me while wishing me another successful year.
‘My brother must be feeling better now.’
When I told him I had quit school and started my own company, he went crazy. After the phone call, when I didn’t speak for ten minutes, the fear I felt… Only someone who has been through that silence knows what I imagined and how much I trembled.
“Everyone, happy new year.”
I sent the same greeting to the family chat room and changed into my work clothes.
“It’s a bit chilly.”
With light steps I stepped outside. The crisp early-morning air greeted me. If I hadn’t worn thicker clothes, I would have deeply regretted it.
clop clop
On the subway, I mentally organized what I had to do today.
‘First, decide which engine to use. The programming team are all beginners, so I need to give them time to get comfortable. The art team has to brainstorm creatures with me… Sound, Daniel can handle. I’ll just direct the feel….’
As a director, there were so many things to handle. Thinking that I had to do well for the game to succeed made me feel a slight weight in my chest—
‘Wait, my legs actually feel heavy?’
I looked down at the sensation.
“?”
“Nyaa?”
What the heck are you?