Chapter 124
Chapter 124
-----------------------------------------------------------------
Translator: Vine
Chapter: 124
Chapter Title: Suicide (3)
-----------------------------------------------------------------
Now that the concept was finalized, the next step was rough modeling.
Creating a clay-like model without fine details to see if the composition was feasible.
The key points were vibration, rupture, and a reduction in resolution through noise.
This would create a bleed effect with green and yellow light.
Followed by using the branching veins of blood as a brush to paint a picture.
‘Freeze here.’
*Click*.
Looking at the completed motion, the result was exactly as envisioned.
A wide smile spread across Seo-rim's lips, her worries satisfyingly resolved.
Of course, this wasn't the end.
It was merely a demonstration piece, like a lump of clay.
To complete it to a level applicable in the game, motion capture and rigging were necessary.
On top of that, modeling, detailed effects, and post-processing like color correction would naturally be needed.
But that wasn't a task for today.
“Sir! I’ve finished designing the pattern!”
Seo-rim's expression was confident.
* * *
“What do you think?”
“It’s good.”
The result Han Seo-rim brought was different from what I had expected.
However, that didn't necessarily mean it was worse.
In fact, it would be right to call it a positive change.
‘It’s intuitive.’
It was spectacular and overwhelming.
Only then did I realize there had been a flaw in my explanation.
‘What one sees in reality and a staged visual illusion are bound to be different.’
The cognitive ambiguity that Hell induces cannot be replicated solely through visual effects.
Even I, who was adapting Hell for a game, couldn't say this was wrong.
As I’ve said, my goal is adaptation, not historical accuracy.
If there was a better option from a gameplay perspective, there was no reason not to choose it.
“Confirmed. Let’s start building it for real.”
Aside from the boss presentation, the combat design for Chapter 1 was complete.
Now, more than anything, the process of bringing it to life was necessary.
The obvious next step was motion capture.
Besides artistic reasons, a foundational skeleton was needed for programming implementation.
That was when Kim Bae-seok stepped forward again.
“I’ll do it myself!”
The passionate action man, Kim Bae-seok (46), appeared on the set wearing a motion-capture suit.
Behind him, the action school instructors fidgeted, sending me pleading looks.
I, too, was a bit skeptical.
“Will you be alright?”
It wasn't anything else; his age was the problem.
It wasn't to disrespect Kim Bae-seok’s career, but wasn't forty-six a rather risky age for aerial action and intense stunts?
However, his words crushed my concerns.
“I told you, didn’t I? My son is a fan of the Hellic series.”
I had heard that.
No, I hadn't just heard it; I had even given him an autograph.
“Later, when my son plays this, I want to be able to brag, ‘Your dad filmed this part!’ Can’t you let me?”
How could I simply ignore a father's desire to be proud in front of his son?
Still, he was an industry veteran who had started with legendary stunts; he wouldn't have volunteered without knowing his own physical condition.
I nodded, and so the filming began.
“Action!”
The first thing to film was the execution move in front of a giant model of Rick Artmann.
The enemy stood between 5 to 6 meters tall, with a body resembling the frame of a praying mantis, a long neck like a giraffe's, a human face, and hands clasped together.
The protagonist's execution motion for one bullet involved climbing its back and shooting the spine.
For two bullets, it was crippling one leg and then shooting at its heart.
For three bullets, it was climbing up its front, shooting the waist and chest, then backflipping away while firing at the spot between its eyes—all moves that required wire action.
And Kim Bae-seok performed them brilliantly.
“Hyaaaah!!!”
“Woooah!!!”
“That’s our director for you! He’s tearing up the whole set!”
With every move Kim Bae-seok made, the instructors' cheers followed like a tail.
This is what professional life is like.
“It feels refreshing to use my body after so long.”
Kim Bae-seok grinned, revealing his white teeth.
I had to admit it.
It seemed you couldn't ignore his experience.
You couldn't judge the life he'd lived by his age alone.
The shoot went smoothly.
While we were at it, we also filmed Rick Artmann's motions, and then came the final part.
The six-bullet, full-stack execution scene.
“This is an important part. Let’s take a break, finish the rehearsal, and then start the main shoot.”
In the design, the full-stack execution had a special mechanic added that was different from the others.
It was a ‘skill check.’
The idea came from Ho-su of our planning team.
—If used well, this skill could allow players to skip an entire phase of a low-health boss. If we let it activate all the time, wouldn’t it risk hurting the difficulty?
—Do you have an alternative?
—How about adding a skill check element to make the damage variable?
—...That’s not bad. Set the minimum damage similar to a 5-stack, and raise the maximum?
—Yes, and it could also instill a sense of tension or anticipation in the skill activation itself.
—Confirmed.
The full-stack execution adds a process where the screen goes into slow motion for a skill check with each bullet fired.
Why did this demand precision in motion capture?
If you asked, the answer was clear.
“The user will see Bae-seok’s motions in slow motion. Of course, we’ll do post-processing during the modeling phase, but…”
“The skeleton can’t look off. I understand.”
Bae-seok chugged some ice water and got up from his seat.
The rehearsal was simple.
Rick Artmann’s full-stack execution involved the protagonist running up, shooting a leg joint to break its balance, leaping up to fire one shot into its back and neck, then using a tentacle extending from the boss’s back like a wire to spin around and fire—bang, bang, bang—three more shots into its weak spots.
It was right after the explanation and equipment check were finished.
“Action!”
Kim Bae-seok entered with a confident stride.
He casually stretched his back, and the filming began.
“Hyaah!”
One shot while running and aiming forward, then two more while leaping high with the help of the wire. He then grabbed the tentacle extending from the Rick Artmann model’s back and spun.
‘Success!’
My fists clenched.
Now, all he had to do was land after the tumble…
*Crack!*
...?
“Aaargh!”
With a *thud*, Kim Bae-seok made an imperfect landing.
The cracking sound heard before the scream clearly indicated the cause of the incident.
“Di-Director!”
“His disc herniated again! This is why we tried to stop him!”
“Call 119! Call 119!”
...So the man had a disc problem.
Should I call this suicide, or an accident?
I'm not so sure.
“Ugh, aaargh...!”
From a legendary stuntman to the director of the country's largest action school.
It seemed even the passionate Kim Bae-seok, who had dedicated his life to action, couldn't overcome a herniated disc at the age of 46.
As sighs filled the air,
*Click!*
Jo A-yun, who had been quiet, pressed the button on her recorder.
“Aaaaaaargh!”
It was summer.
* * *
With the design, model, and mechanics ready, all that remained was the actual implementation.
It's one of the most time-consuming processes in game development.
This was especially true for Hellic 4.
Not because of the modeling, but because of the sheer amount of processing required on the programming side.
“There’s a bug with the profiling clear mechanic.”
It had been a while since Myeong-gyu and I had a meal together.
Though we were just talking about work.
“The water tank?”
“Yeah, it’s activating under certain conditions even when profiling isn’t complete.”
“Have you found the cause?”
“I’ve passed it to QA. I have no idea where the problem is coming from.”
Myeong-gyu laughed hollowly.
I felt quite sorry, seeing how particularly haggard he’d become lately.
The problem we were discussing was another example.
Hellic 4 has a mechanic called 'profiling' to prepare for boss fights.
It involves gathering various pieces of information before reaching the boss room and combining them in the Ant Tunnel to form a countermeasure. For Chapter 1, this was the blood-filled tank on the altar in the boss room.
If profiling is completed, the tank activates during Rick Artmann’s second phase.
Breaking the activated tank induces a groggy state for about five seconds.
This allows the player to clear the second phase a bit more easily.
The problem was stemming from there.
Of course, it's impossible for problems not to arise during development, but this particular bug stemmed from complex interactions with many variables.
It was a situation where touching one thing had a high chance of causing a problem somewhere else.
All we could do was pray that the wrath of the coding gods would subside.
...In any case, once those few bugs were fixed, things would be smoother from then on.
I'm not sure if 'smoother' is the right word, but what would remain is the process of continuous internal QA for balance adjustments and minor debugging.
It's a numbers game.
Which meant there would be less for me to be directly involved in.
So, at this point, what I was focused on was the game's content... specifically, reward management.
This part had me worried.
It wasn't about the items you'd get as rewards.
What is the core system of Hellic?
Isn't it character enhancement through weapon growth?
Hellic 4 is the same.
There are two weapon systems.
One is firearm modding, derived from the parts system in Hellic 3, and the other is weapons for unarmed combat, like knuckles, knives, and claws.
Builds would be differentiated by firearm parts and weapon types.
The concepts were already established, so this too was just a matter of playing with numbers.
As I said before, the problem was the rewards.
Specifically, it was about the man's Reverse Scale.
‘I can’t just follow the original story exactly.’
Crafting a story is always a headache.
This is especially true if following the original's content verbatim would make the narrative too unfriendly.
Originally, the man's story in Hell was only properly revealed towards the very end.
In fact, that was the only moment when his journey could be understood.
But to follow that exact structure in a game?
‘It’s a bit difficult. Moving forward without knowing what you’re doing.’
AAA titles were held to a stricter standard for narrative and presentation than other game genres.
Cinematic presentation has, at some point, become a part of the genre's grammar.
You don't have to do it.
But it feels like a shame if you don't.
As a counterexample, one could point to the narrative tooltips beloved by the originators of the Soulslike genre we're currently making, but that argument can be refuted.
‘I can’t write a story that’s incomprehensible until it’s analyzed.’
Having chosen a specific protagonist, ‘the Man,’ relying on speculation through narrative becomes a frustratingly unfriendly experience.
Since the man’s romance is the main story, showing that romance visually is far more immersive for the player.
In other words, it’s about generating interest.
The effect gained by shedding light on the man’s love life is far greater than the effect of keeping it hidden.
The decision was made only after reconsidering all these points.
‘One piece of the narrative for every boss cleared.’
What if I broke up his narrative, which was originally revealed only at the end, and assigned one piece to each chapter?
The method for viewing the cinematics would be a small room in the Ant Tunnel.
The place for profiling and weapon maintenance.
Let’s go with a system where you activate the collected Reverse Scales there to revisit events from his past life one by one.
Then the path becomes clear.
‘The cigarette case and the lipstick...’
The reward for Chapter 1 is their first meeting.
* * *
It happened in front of a certain building.
The man, who had come out dressed neatly, only then realized he didn’t have any cigarettes on him.
A troubled look crossed his face.
It seemed he wouldn't find any cigarettes even if he went back home.
It was then.
“Here.”
A woman held out a pack of cigarettes, smiling brightly.
The man looked at her.
No, his gaze was fixed on her hand.
“You’re my next-door neighbor, right?”
The cigarette in her hand had a lipstick stain on it.
The man stared at it blankly before finally taking the pack.
“What’s your name?”
The moment the man’s lips parted, the scene ended.
The cigarette and the lipstick.
That was how the man who had wanted to kill himself remembered that day.