Chapter 31
Chapter 31
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Translator: Vine
Chapter: 31
Chapter Title: A Declaration of Dreams
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A small, rectangular machine that fit in the palm of my hand.
The smartphone, the pinnacle of modern civilization, allowing one to peer into the world with a weight of merely a few hundred grams.
Three years after turning back time, I held one in my hand again.
‘It’s small.’
It felt cruder than I remembered.
The icon of a half-eaten apple seemed strangely new.
A thought crossed my mind: who in the world could have known back then?
That this small, portable communication device would completely upend the game industry.
‘About three years left, I guess.’
It would start in the latter half of 2012, so that was about right.
In just a few more years, mobile games would begin to swallow the entire market whole.
All while attempting a business model shift from casual games to virulently predatory monetization.
My brow furrowed.
-Yeon-ho, why do you think our customers play games? Huh? Customers don’t enjoy the game itself. They play games to substitute small amounts of labor with money and receive a fitting reward. It’s the reward. The reward. That’s the core of a game.
In my past life, that’s what the company director had said.
I had to admit what was true.
His words were blunt and off-putting, but they were largely correct.
Considering the inherent limitations of mobile games, it was inevitable.
Due to the device's poor performance, unable to even manage heat properly, performance had to be lowered beyond optimization to the point of 'degradation'.
And the resource issue was such a severe, chronic problem. Considering how a single game could eat away at the entire device's capacity, compromising on specs was a necessary evil.
That wasn't all. The touch-only control system made complex and detailed operations fatiguing. That’s why the 'auto-hunt' system was pushed to the forefront.
In cruder terms, a cyber bonsai.
The user sits back, stares blankly at the screen, and when the AI-controlled character can no longer advance, they open their wallet.
They find satisfaction in watching their character grow stronger, in watching their rank climb.
If asked, ‘Is that wrong?’ I could have answered.
‘It’s not wrong. It’s one of many directions. And it was proven right.’
In the end, if the user is satisfied, it’s a good game.
The numbers prove it.
For the next ten years, the smartphone game market, championing that business model, would generate more revenue than the PC and console markets combined, rising to the top.
One could say that those who didn't ride that wave were simply ignoring the times.
Damn right.
The overwhelming accessibility of portability, a market structure where the entire landscape was visible at a glance through the App Store, and on top of that, the optional free-to-play system called 'freemium' lowered the barrier to entry for the smartphone game market to the height of a garden fence.
But still, even so.
I didn't have a good feeling about that trend.
Because I knew.
‘The market size grows, but the quality of new titles becomes ambiguous.’
This tendency was especially severe in Korea.
As if it were the natural course of action to become more commercial, the number of new titles that everyone looked forward to dwindled by the day.
Games with high volatility began to dominate.
It wasn't that there were no high-quality games. It was just that the market structure prevented them from becoming mainstream.
When did it start? At some point I couldn't quite recall, gamers began to view new releases from major game companies not with anticipation, but with apprehension.
The open beta of a new game was, nine times out of ten, a funeral.
The small peninsula that once gloriously bloomed the flower of the game industry saw users, exhausted by the pursuit of extreme commercialism, load themselves onto trucks.
That wasn't a metaphor. There were actual incidents of people driving trucks to the front of company buildings.
The experience of seeing that sight on my way to work was now a distant memory.
When the voices criticizing excessive commercialism grew deafeningly loud, the director would say:
-Toss them some feed.
An in-game reward meant to placate the masses, commonly called ‘feed’.
The effect was outstanding. After all, the users who still had affection for the game couldn't help but think, ‘Have these guys really changed?’
The day that no longer worked… well, they paid the price with a falling stock price.
Anyway, the point is this.
If this trend continued, commercial demand would increase, but the game industry would fail to defend the quality of the market itself.
In other words, the soil begins to dry up.
It got to the point where even those great major game companies started planning AAA productions just to win back public favor. Need I say more?
-Yeon-ho, I’ll hand over the AAA project we’re planning to you. So just this once, do as I say. You’ll be the scapegoat? I know. That’s why I’m doing this. You know how much I look out for you, right? Let's just endure it for now. Everyone in our company knows you’ve got a good sense for this. Who doesn’t? That’s why I feel sorry. Let’s just put up with it this one last time, okay?
-…Yes.
-Alright, we have the results from our discussion with the business department. Let’s start over with the package composition. First, it’s about the desire to buy. When the tutorial ends, the game’s core package has to be the first thing they see.
A bad memory flashed by.
The days when I was a director in name only, clinging to empty promises and serving as a scapegoat.
…I forced it away.
All I could think about was the impending wave that everyone knew was a problem but couldn't divert.
‘I have to choose, too.’
I, who would navigate this market, would also have to make the choice they would one day make.
It was time to firmly set the studio's direction.
As I was deep in that thought.
“Hello.”
A reporter who had come to the office greeted me.
“Hello.”
“My, you’re looking sharp. A pleasure to meet you. I’m Jin Woo-hyeong, a reporter from the gaming section of the Jinseong Daily. Ah! I really enjoyed playing *Hellic*! I was thinking, how long has it been since a game like this came out of Korea?”
“You’re too kind.”
“You’re being modest.”
His smiling face was likable.
The purpose of his visit today was to request an interview for *Hellic 2*.
For me, it was a choice to solidify our domestic standing, and for this reporter, it was a choice to snag an exclusive scoop no one else had.
“Shall we begin the interview right away?”
The reporter took a seat.
I appreciated the lack of unnecessary small talk.
“Yes, let’s start immediately.”
The interview began.
* * *
The interview proceeded smoothly.
At least, in reporter Jin Woo-hyeong’s opinion, it was one of the smoothest interviews he’d ever conducted with a small or medium-sized developer.
“First, I’d like to ask about the concept of the game *Hellic*. It was noticeable that while using the same name, the settings of 1 and 2 are vastly different.”
“The setting was inspired by the idea that we each live in our own hell. Someone who has ruined their own body falls into a hell to pay for their sins. Someone who holds false beliefs will fall into a hell of heretics. It's an expansion of that concept. As for the exact setting and story of *Hellic 2*… that would be a spoiler for now, so I’ll keep my words brief.”
“I heard the studio started as a university club. I can’t tell you how surprised I was when I first heard that. Traces of professional techniques could be felt throughout the game. And the actual gameplay experience was, of course, exceptional. Did you have any prior experience like this?”
“I studied quite a bit. There are so many outstanding veterans in the industry, which was particularly helpful for research. Above all, I believe it’s thanks to my hardworking team members and the fans who have shown us so much love.”
“A model answer. Then, on to the next question. You’re using the name Studio Rewind. The reason for choosing such a name is…”
Woo-hyeong felt quite surprised.
A young university student development team. The image of Yeon-ho he had imagined before coming to this first-ever interview was that of a passionate engineering student.
He felt this even more so because he knew Yeon-ho had already gone to G-STAR in cosplay to promote the game.
But look at him now.
‘Team leaders from major developers.’
That was exactly the impression he was getting.
He didn't give an inch, answered with model responses, and his choice of words was particularly conscious of the media.
It was as if this wasn't his first interview.
‘This will be a hot topic.’
It would make for a good article.
He had the looks, his development skills were outstanding, and above all, the title ‘A rising star gaining attention in the North American market’ was perfect.
The K-XX label worked everywhere.
Especially at a time like this, when interest in games was on the rise.
‘K-Developer Shocks North America!’
That would be a good headline.
Woo-hyeong smiled brightly and turned the page of his questions.
‘Hmm, this is a bit bland, but…’
Still, it was a question he couldn't skip.
“Moving on to the next question. What direction have you set for Studio Rewind’s future?”
It was at that moment.
‘…Hmm?’
Yeon-ho’s expression changed slightly.
It was hard to describe. It was an intuition born from Woo-hyeong’s experience meeting countless people.
Troubled? Hesitant?
An emotion that seemed to be one of those flickered across Yeon-ho’s face.
His gaze fell to the object in his hand.
A smartphone.
The one that was all the rage these days.
“…Was that a difficult question?”
He asked gently.
For some reason, he felt like this would be the key question of today’s interview.
His intuition was correct.
“…No.”
Yeon-ho gripped the smartphone tightly.
An unidentifiable emotion settled upon his emotionless eyes.
Finally, an answer came.
“Direction. It’s an important issue. Especially for a studio like ours that has just taken its first step.”
Yeon-ho spoke at a pace neither fast nor slow.
This was the first time.
“There’s something I always think about. What is the standard for a good game? What kind of games do I like, and what kind of games do we get excited about?”
The first time he saw the passion of youth in the seemingly worldly Yeon-ho.
“At times like that, I can’t help but recall them. The Legend of Zelda, Mario, GTA, Resident Evil, Doom, Final Fantasy. The countless other games that I loved as a child, the games that led me down this path.”
The first time he saw what could be called desire.
“They’re all like that. They were purely fun, and just thinking about them allows me to reminisce about those happy days. When I hear a sequel is coming out, I still get as excited as I did back then. They are games I look up to. I want to make something like that, too. That desire has always been in a corner of my heart.”
“…So I can take that as you want to create games like those?”
“No.”
Woo-hyeong flinched for a moment.
Yeon-ho continued without pause.
His eyes were shimmering.
“I want to surpass them. So that our game becomes a name that defines an era.”
For a split second, Woo-hyeong thought.
It was an occupational hazard.
‘How can I spice this up?’
Meanwhile, Yeon-ho’s words continued.
“An AAA GOTY. I plan to go that far. To do that, we must first climb to the top of the indie scene. We are aiming for the Indie GOTY with *Hellic 2*. That is the studio’s short-term direction.”
Everyone who knew, knew.
Korea was a wasteland for AAA titles.
The widespread internet network covering this small piece of land was much more suitable for the far more efficient system of ‘online’ games.
In context, this young man was saying that here in Korea, he would succeed with an AAA console game, something no one had ever accomplished.
Woo-hyeong asked, a sense of amusement in his voice.
“You have a difficult dream.”
To which the reply came.
“If it weren’t difficult, it wouldn’t be a dream.”
What he saw was the bravado of youth.
It seemed like this would turn into a very interesting article.
* * *
In any market, there is no more fitting analogy than farming.
Indeed, there is likely no other example that can encompass soil, seeds, climate, and the cycles of growth and decline.
I’ll speak of the game market from that perspective.
‘AAA is the soil.’
What forms a healthy market, or in other words, what allows new sprouts to grow in the market, is the AAA title.
Market stagnation is, in essence, a problem that arises from the ‘absence of anything new’.
Someone has to take on this challenge.
That’s what I want to do.
It’s not some grand goal of leading the market.
I just didn’t want the games I had loved, currently loved, and will love to stagnate and decline.
…No, to be honest, even that is an excuse.
An excuse to think that it’s okay for a weirdo like me to exist.
I know.
The path I intend to take is a thorny one.
From basic issues like the capital, labor, and marketing that go into a AAA title, to external problems like pressure from investors and management, and beyond that, the incredibly high wall of turning a profit—if I consider all that, I might never get rich in my lifetime.
I might even sink just like this.
Let’s look at the other path.
If I were to choose monetization-heavy mobile games, I could rise to the top of the market if I just set my mind to it.
Because I’ve lived on the front lines of that brutal ecosystem, because I know how the market will flow, and because I already know what the customers want.
I can think of more than a dozen ideas right now.
Making and selling disposable games, then making and selling new ones, again and again, until I’m sitting on a pile of money? Easy.
Easy, yet I hate it.
Thoughts, by nature, tend to get entrenched.
If I were to touch the mobile market just to secure capital, it would undoubtedly influence future development.
I would start thinking about other options, and I would start doubting my own convictions.
I want to block even that possibility at its source.
I’m not denying the mobile game market.
It’s just that the goal I see and the goal that market sees are different.
So to speak, dream and reality were laid out before me as two separate paths, and I chose the dream.
As someone once said, I’m an art-addict.
A masterpiece-addict, stubborn as a mule, and a delusional patient.
But, if the dream I so desire is a sickness, then gladly.
“Let’s start the meeting.”
I will be a patient.
“We’re starting on the design for Chapter 2. We’ve had plenty of rest, so let’s get running again.”
As always, because it feels like I’ll die if I don’t.
Because I have died for that reason.
“Chapter 2 is the Hell of Hedonism. We’re going to create something horrific and abstract.”
I never wanted to live a life like that again.
Jo A-yun in Crisis (1)