Chapter 181
Translator: Vine
Chapter: 181
Chapter Title: Open World (1)
I boarded the plane back home.
Having earned more than enough money, I was no longer swayed by the trivialities of seat class.
In other words, my seat was comfortable, which also meant it was a perfect environment for stray thoughts.
I found myself replaying my time with Russo.
It was an embarrassing memory, a shocking one.
When he had asked, "What do you think?" my response of "How?" seemed utterly foolish in retrospect.
But what could I do?
It would have been strange not to be shocked.
Especially for me, of all people—someone who knew the original *Lost Kingdom*.
As a collector of the game’s final version, its concept art, its development stories, and even its related merchandise, I was astounded.
‘It’s even better.’
I had always considered *Lost Kingdom* to be Russo’s masterpiece.
Of course, the game wasn't without its flaws, but even with them, I believed the completeness of *Lost Kingdom* as a game had reached its zenith, with no room left to climb.
But there was a level above it.
And it was the art, the game’s most praised aspect, that showed a performance exceeding its past self.
I wondered why.
The truth was revealed in Russo's answer.
-I just handled the AD work myself.
A funny thing to say, but it was the precise answer.
This approach is especially effective for a team like Russo’s, where every element is determined by the director's capabilities.
To quote a story from *Lost Kingdom*'s development, the game was the identity Russo had been cultivating within himself since his youth, finally pieced together and unveiled.
As such, no one knew that world better than Russo himself, and the quality of the final product was determined by ‘how well it expressed Russo's inner vision.’
In my past life, he hadn't done that.
He had allowed Han Seo-rim, Valhalla's Art Director at the time, to reinterpret the world he had conceived.
Likely because the result was aesthetically beautiful.
After all, I was the same.
Even though I had seen every corner of Hell with my own eyes—its physiology, the placement of its structures, its saturation and forms—I didn't try to recreate it faithfully.
Not only did I lack the ability to explain it all, but Han Seo-rim's reinterpretation possessed a mise-en-scène in every corner that was in no way inferior to the original Hell.
To borrow his word, it was a compromise.
Since the result was more than good enough, there was no need to insist on perfect accuracy.
However,
‘That’s what changed.’
In this life, Russo never even had that opportunity.
That unleashed Russo.
He must have grown impatient, knowing that no one at Valhalla could match Han Seo-rim's performance and satisfy his eye.
No matter what instructions he gave, the moment the AD's judgment and reinterpretation were involved, the result would stray from what he wanted.
In the end, he took on the AD's duties himself, and by thoroughly controlling every element and reigning supreme, he extracted an unparalleled result.
I ran my fingers over my forearm.
It felt as though the goosebumps from that moment had yet to fade.
It was clearly a miracle born from his capabilities as a director.
A masterpiece born from the experience and input he had accumulated throughout his life, and from his own self-assurance.
If that game is released this time—whether it’s called *Lost Kingdom* or not—it will be flawless in the art department.
The praise of the past life, or perhaps even more, will rain down upon him.
A long breath escaped me.
What came to mind next were Russo’s words before I left.
-I can't say it enough. I was able to do this thanks to you. You were a stimulus. Thank you.
He praised me while showing me what he himself had accomplished.
The recognition from my idol was sweet and heavy.
But there was something he said that made all of that feel trivial.
-You are one of the names that define this era. I acknowledge that.
-You flatter me…
-No.
-…?
-Not at all. Let's drop the pointless humility. It's tiring for both of us.
He said.
-You are a pillar of this era. I was the master of the last.
Even as he spoke of himself in the past tense, his resolve was unshakable.
-But I can’t let it end there. That’s just the kind of person I am.
The fire in his eyes was scorching.
-My end won't be as some has-been, fading away while being called a relic. Because I was the best, I am the best, and I must be the best.
I found myself flinching without realizing it.
After that moment had passed, Russo said to me,
-The development of this game will be very slow. I'm looking at the result, not the time. I intend to pour everything I have into it. Do you know what that means?
-…I don't.
-It means this game will see the light of day only when you are ready to complete your next one.
-…!
He laughed heartily.
With a single phrase, he left me with his final words.
-All I have to do is beat you. Then I can remain a living legend, not some old relic in a back room.
From the beginning, his words had meant only one thing.
-Let's have a match.
A challenge to see who was better.
A declaration that he recognized me as his rival.
With those words, I realized something.
After such a long and winding road, I had finally, at long last, arrived at a place where the man who was once the sole sun in the sky had to lift his head to see me.
There was no surge of emotion.
As I faced him from the same height, my admiration diminished.
All of that faded away, and only one thing remained.
-…If they're released at the same time, then by all means.
A competitive spirit.
The pressure from my opponent, my faith in myself, and my desire for the result all combined to create that feeling.
Two months. I had rested for quite a while.
My thoughts spun quickly, as if my mind had been oiled.
And with that, a decision was made.
-I'll consider it an honor.
If my opponent brought his best, then I had no choice but to bring mine.
* * *
It was a truly bizarre land to be called Hell.
Its very shape was strange.
Looking up at the ceiling, I saw not a sky but another ground.
In the distance was not a horizon, but another landmass rising up like a sheer cliff.
Yes, it was as if I were inside a giant sphere, looking around—a space where the world existed on the interior of a planet, not its surface.
But if that were all, it wouldn't be worth mentioning.
After taking in the entire massive space at a glance, I realized this was a place where ‘different hells exist in separate sections.’
It was a truly wondrous sight.
On the ceiling, a red hell and a blue hell shimmered, separated like oil and water.
There was a yellow hell on the eastern wall, a white hell on the western wall, a black hell to the north, and a violet hell to the south.
I couldn't quite grasp what kind of hell this was.
But one thing was certain.
-Look at this plant! It’s giving birth to people!
-Th-those aren't people! They're monsters!
-Run!
The ground I was currently standing on was a place where monster-birthing plants devoured people.
Many people… sinners, were engaged in a suffocating game of hide-and-seek.
I stood blankly, watching the sinners and grotesqueries pass through my body.
Believing this game of tag would never end and that there was nothing more to see, I started to walk away. It was then that I realized my judgment was a miscalculation.
-It's over!
Someone shouted.
The sinners stopped in their tracks, and the monsters that had been chasing them vanished like mirages.
The plants grew quiet and still again, folding their buds.
Like time reversing, they became seedlings and then disappeared back into the ground.
The place was now a lush, green forest from a fairy tale.
Curiosity stirred within me.
‘A hell with a rest period?’
A hell that grants a break? It seemed far too strange.
As someone who had seen my fair share of hells, my first reaction was doubt.
Hell, by its very nature, was not a place that ever gave punishments with consideration for mercy or another's circumstances.
If a hell had a rest period, there could be only one reason.
Because the rest itself would be excruciatingly painful.
Soon, I could see that my understanding was not wrong.
In a very subtle way.
-Now, let's resume our research.
-Did you see the petals curling inward just now? It wasn't growing in reverse! It was literally rewinding time! I saw the wound I made on the stem heal at the exact right moment!
-Time… time! In that case, what about we go to the violet hell?
-Is there a need to go? Is there anyone here who has already researched the violet hell?!
Laughing like madmen, they began to babble about what they had seen just before dying.
They put their heads together, opening a forum for debate, and those who had died moments ago, resurrected at some point, joined the discussion in small groups.
The sinners' condition was strange.
Among them were people whose bodies were tattered, having failed to die completely while fleeing, yet they paid no mind to their state, utterly consumed with exploring this place.
Were they doing this willingly?
Was there not a single sane soul among them, all lost to madness?
To state the conclusion, no.
-Ugh… it hurts… but I want to know…!
-I can't feel my lower body. But it's moving. Ah… why is this happening…
They were being compelled.
They were forced to comprehend the physiology of this place, not by their own will but by another's, by some great consciousness that made it impossible to resist.
All while marching toward a predetermined doom.
Suddenly, a whisper arose in my mind.
As always, it delivered the name of this hell.
-Why is this so painful?
This was a hell for those who lived and died for their questions.
-Why did I come to Hell? All I ever wanted was to know.
A hell for those who sacrificed countless things, and made others sacrifice, for the sake of those questions.
And so.
-What is Hell in the first place? Why does it exist?
It was a hell that made them continue a search they could never solve, to make them regret a life lived in inquiry.
The Hell of Aestheticism.
That was the last hell I remembered.
* * *
The Hell of Aestheticism was異質 in many ways.
And as it was the last hell I remembered, the one right before my regression, it was the hell for which I could recall and create the most vast and numerous materials.
Even so, to be honest, just looking at the shape of that hell, I had my doubts about whether it could be woven into a game.
I had a feeling that applying a narrative, no matter how I approached it, would be quite difficult.
However, that was a clear misjudgment.
If I just shifted my perspective slightly, the Hell of Aestheticism was more suited to ‘game adaptation’ than any other hell I had seen.
As long as I chose the right genre, that is.
“It’s been a while since our last meeting. A new project plan?”
“Yes, let’s get right to it.”
The planning had continued for two months, and it was now four months after the DLC's release.
I gathered a minimal team of core personnel and began the presentation.
With a beep, text appeared on the screen.
[Hellic 5 - Underworld]
I parted my lips.
“We’re going to completely change the genre.”
“Change it how…?”
I paused for a moment.
I mulled it over. It was a single hell, yet a collection of many.
The sinners could travel through all those hells at will, if only they desired it.
Provided, of course, that they continued their inquiry.
How could I make this interesting?
How could I make people become captivated by this game?
Wasn't it too easy?
I said.
“An open-world RPG.”
The player can play the game in any way they wish.
True to its name of seeking knowledge, we will implement almost every form of play the user can imagine into the game.
Because I had already seen the source for it, the very limits of human imagination, in Hell.
“Freedom to the absolute limit, with a purpose even more resolute than that.”
In a world beneath a planet, we will open up every possibility so that the user’s curiosity is constantly engaged, so they become mad with interest without ever tiring.
By thoroughly controlling and concealing all that design.
I explained the general concept.
As the explanation continued, the team members’ expressions went from good to bad and back again.
By the time I had finished explaining the entire overview, their faces had turned visibly grim.
I understood.
“This one will be especially tough. The development period will be a little longer.”
The scale of the work would be on another level.
So much so that everything we’d done until now would seem like a joke.
But I was confident in this game, in this plan.
Even if we revised the details, the core framework of this draft would remain unshakable.
“Let’s give it our all. Once we finish this, I’ll give you all a six-month break.”
Now was the time to run again.