International Game Exhibition: Gamestar (1)

Games may be full of romance, but reality is often cold.

To exhibit at Gamestar, where romance and passion gather, you naturally needed the money to match.

Independent booths.

Two million won per booth.

To put one booth in more intuitive terms, it measured roughly three meters by three meters. Converted into a unit more familiar to Koreans, that came out to about 2.7 pyeong—roughly ninety square feet.

Naturally, you couldn't promote a game in a mere ninety-square-foot space. You needed at least twenty booths to put on anything resembling a proper showing…

"We got a discount, but it still leaves a bitter taste…"

The booths Se-rin had applied for numbered a full one hundred and fifty.

Last year's main Gamestar sponsor, MV Soft, had set up a massive three-hundred-booth exhibition hall. Considering that typical major game companies secured somewhere between one hundred and one hundred fifty booths—for a small studio of barely ten people to lock down booth space on par with a major publisher?

Could they afford it?

"Se-rin, a-are you sure this is okay…?"

"If it doesn't work out, you can just live in Galicia, right?"

"Th-that's not the pooooint…"

"If we push hard on promotion here, we can more than break even…!"

Not a chance.

Se-rin's claim that she'd put her house deed on the line hadn't been empty talk. Perhaps because she was a goddess of a lower dimension, even though Kim Ji-hyun's existence had been erased, Se-rin had run into no particular trouble disposing of Kim Ji-hyun's financial assets.

She'd maxed out the home equity loan. And as if that weren't enough, the office building under Elisha Lee's Earth name had also been sucked into the swamp of debt. It was no exaggeration to say they'd staked everything on Gamestar.

No matter how much the online community raved about the arrival of a god-tier game, RPG players were still a minority compared to gamers as a whole. And people who actually owned a VR capsule at home were a minority even among those. She needed to firmly pull in the ones muttering, Hmm, maybe…

She needed to secure enough loyal customers who would order a VR capsule for their homes—even if it was a little expensive—just so they could play Fantasy of Galicia.

Otherwise, economic ruin on Earth first. And on the continent of Galicia, the odds of losing to a much-strengthened Asile would only climb higher.

The Shadow Legion kept accumulating. But divine power dwindled by the day. The sacred energy spent terraforming the ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠continent of Galicia into Fantasy of Galicia outpaced whatever she managed to stockpile.

So. Alongside maximizing the game's polish… she had to make sure every single person who visited the Gamestar venue fell for the charm of Fantasy of Galicia.

"We're really going to have to work hard."

"Y-yeah…!"

"That includes you."

"Huh?!"

"Go meet that Earth god or whatever and borrow a bunch of capsules—or get them donated. We don't have the money to buy any."

"O-okay…!"

The weight on the practical staffer's shoulders grew heavier.

So Han-ho, a department head at MV Soft, set down his smartphone and let out a sigh.

It was unwelcome news.

Following last year, MV Soft was scheduled to participate as Gamestar's main sponsor again this year. Alongside several titles meant to showcase development diversity and drive the stock price… there was Lineage 3. A true sequel leveraging the company's most successful IP, set for simultaneous PC and mobile cross-platform release—and meant to be the star of this year's Gamestar.

…Or so it should have been.

But a virtual reality RPG was exhibiting at Gamestar? Of course the spotlight would be stolen.

Granted, the games' purposes and target audiences were completely different. From MV Soft's perspective, the primary goal was reclaiming market share in the mobile RPG space they were steadily losing. Mobile RPG players fundamentally sought comfort—spend a pile of money, leave it running, and grow stronger. Then flaunt that strength at others. Naturally, that was a different breed from VR games that prized the player's actual sense of immersion.

But still…

"What a headache."

What would the press start barking about? MV Soft, resting on past glory, stuck ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠in its ways. A new title still dependent on auto-hunting and gacha gambling. No innovation—just another IP rehash. That sort of nonsense.

Because they were pathetic fools who didn't even know how to make money.

Even so, being compared at all was unpleasant. But at this point, even if he applied pressure, the Gamestar organizers—starved for a hit—weren't about to kick out some "Team Galicia" or whatever. And even the "VR project collaboration" he'd proposed with such generous spirit had come back as a rejection.

"Is there no way?"

How to crush them.

So Han-ho sank into thought. If the other party had been someone inside the company, he would have dragged them to a private room a few times, slipped a woman under their arm, and quietly planned to swallow them whole through an MOU or similar. But of all things, a woman. And a young one at that? Hard to find a weakness. Hard to recruit.

Of course, that woman named Kim Se-rin couldn't be the real core. According to the spy's report, whatever they produced as a first draft transformed overnight into something of excellent polish.

"America? No. If the headquarters were in America, there'd be no reason to bother opening a branch in Korea."

Muttering to himself, So Han-ho calmly began reasoning out Team Galicia's true body. Accounting for time zones, America was the most suspicious candidate—but setting America aside… a place where you could squeeze insane workloads out of people overnight. And still hire quality labor cheap.

"India… is it?"

The tangle of worries made his ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠head start to throb.

Another peaceful day for Galicia and Team Galicia.

Se-rin spent her days buried in development, completely unaware that some slimy tentacle of malice was slowly stretching toward her. Not that she would have cared even if she'd known.

So what are you going to do about it? If you're so mad, let's settle it with game quality.

Something like that, probably.

So. By day, she oversaw every scrap of work as the representative of Team Galicia. By night, as the goddess of the Galicia continent, she cleaned up the chaos her team members had left during the day as best she could, accelerated time, and settled things so the people of Galicia could find their footing. Amid that diligence…

One agenda item rose to the conference room.

"Don't we need to prepare merch and a cosplay event?"

The idea came from Kim Yeon-jeong, who, alongside Seo I-hwa, formed the twin workhorses of the design team. Back when the two of them had worked at Blue Edge, they'd often hit it off and flocked to cosplay events to show off.

What ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠kind of event was Gamestar in the first place? Even at its first outing, people had sneered that there was nothing to see but booth girls and branded it "Girlstar."

In 2009, a cosplay event for a wuxia-punk RPG that was ahead of its time—only for the management to tank it—had gotten tangled in conspiracy. It was an event that simply could not be separated from booth girls… and cosplay.

So Kim Yeon-jeong's proposal was reasonable. But Se-rin's expression was faintly sour.

"The budget… isn't exactly generous."

Hiring professional cosplayers cost a fair amount. And if they were the ones booking the event, they'd need to prepare all the related costumes as well. Se-rin explained these practical concerns, but the people listening only tilted their heads.

Kim Yeon-jeong's gaze landed on Se-rin, then shifted to Yoo Seol. Then she swept her eyes across the female staff.

"I mean, come on—we've got plenty of faces right here, don't we? It's not like we're going to be glued to our computers developing right up until the event day. We can just do it as a group."

"…?"

Se-rin's brain momentarily refused to process the words.

But—

"If we just make the goddess outfit and put it on, that's Goddess Se-rin herself. Let's lock in the goddess cosplay for the boss first."

"Excuse me?"

"Team Lead Yoo. You're in, right? You've got that naturally rude face, so a tsundere elf vibe should work."

"What did you just say, you little—?"

"Kyahaha! It suits you!"

"D-do we have to do this too…?"

"Hmm… you all do sport that dignified developer belly, but hey—since it's come to this, how about a diet? I'll also ask a cosplayer team I know for help, though."

"Me! Me me! I wanna be that guy. The Captain of the Royal Guard!"

Riding the wave of laughter and chatter, the discussion barreled forward at breakneck speed. Se-rin could only blink.

"…"

But Se-rin was not the kind of dictator-CEO who would simply crush an idea her employees had volunteered… and so, unlike Goddess Se-rin of the Galicia continent, the shame cells of Earthling Kim Se-rin were slowly locking into a future of enormous suffering once again.

.

.

.

"What do you mean, a boob mousepad…!"

"Boss, your chest is national-treasure tier. And Se-rin is the goddess of Galicia anyway. Let's make one."

"I-I refuse…!"

"While we're at it, a dakimakura too?"

"Absolutely not…!"