Chaebol

No matter how well a game is made, if it doesn't overcome structural limitations, achieving 100 billion won in sales is impossible.

'Hmm.'

Grandfather, who has never been wrong about money, said it.

Moreover, the genre-specific characteristics of card games were something I had also been contemplating.

Maybe that's why.

His assertion stuck in my throat like a thorn, and I couldn't easily let it go.

It was when I was standing there in a daze.

"By the way, isn't tomorrow the start of school for you?"

"Huh?"

"I mean, it's your first day at middle school, right?"

"Oh, right."

"How about your uniform?"

Oh.

Come to think of it, I was in Japan, so I completely forgot about the uniform…!

Did he read the confusion on my face?

Grandfather clicked his tongue and said,

"How do you plan to run a business with such a scattered mind?"

It felt like a different kind of scolding, one that was new to a middle schooler.

"I left the uniform in your room, so go check it out."

"How did you know my size?"

"Did you already forget that the tailor who came to fit your tuxedo took your measurements?"

The chairman even took care of the school uniform.

"How thoughtful."

Did he read that look in my eyes?

"Hurry up and get ready for school."

Grandfather scolded me for no reason.

A little later.

As I left the study and headed to my room, I saw a neatly folded uniform on the bed.

Next to it was a large bag and a pair of comfortable sneakers.

"Is this a gift for starting school?"

In my past life, I was busy inheriting used uniforms, but now I'm getting gifts for starting at a new school.

But that happiness was short-lived.

"How can I achieve 100 billion won in sales?"

Grandfather's words echoed in my ears like tinnitus.

Even if the game is good, it's useless, and no matter how much you promote it, there's no answer?

"Could that really be true?"

The night before starting middle school.

I pondered those words over and over again.

***

Meanwhile, in Hannam-dong, at Park Yoo-geon's office.

When all the employees had left and he was alone, the suppressed anxiety slowly began to surface.

A billion won in sales?

Is that really possible?

"..."

The office at dawn was silent.

The unsettling thoughts kept growing, feeding off the silence.

At that moment.

"Enough!"

Park Yoo-geon quickly shook his head.

His brother is probably racking his brains day and night trying to increase sales.

"If I'm really worried, I'll just work more."

If making 1 billion won in sales with one game is impossible.

'Then I'll make two, three, even more games, even if I have to cut down on sleep!'

"Even Sir Shigeru said he was working on several projects at once."

'If I'm going to be chased by anxiety, it's a hundred times better to do this.'

Park Yoo-geon immediately opened his college notebook.

Since the current project is a static card game.

If he creates something new, something dynamic and action-packed would be good.

"I can't rely on the existing developers for help."

Of course not.

They're already short on staff, so he can't ask them to take on another project.

"I guess I'll have to make do with working alone in the wee hours."

Even if the scale is smaller, is there something unique he can come up with?

Just as Shigeru introduced the card battle system, something fresh and original…

The thoughts that started like that kept snowballing.

At first, he was simply happy.

Just imagining a new game made him happy, and during that time, he could be free from persistent anxiety.

But that happiness didn't last long.

"Again, the issue is storage space."

The more sophisticated the system he tried to implement, the more the storage size ballooned.

It was a situation that required a reasonable compromise.

"No."

Who would buy a game that's been compromised?

Soon, he ran into a realistic wall.

Isn't there another way…?

Not a compromise, concession, negotiation, or settlement.

A paradigm shift that overcomes everything… a truly genius idea.

Even as he made no significant progress.

Tick-tock, tick-tock.

The clock's second hand kept moving steadily without pause.

As thirty minutes, then an hour passed by, he began to feel needlessly melancholic.

A genius idea?

"Isn't that too far-fetched a hope for someone as dull as me?"

Tick-tock, tick-tock.

While the second hand kept moving, he felt like he was stuck in place.

It was when a deep shadow fell across Park Yoo-geon's face.

Knock, knock, knock.

A knocking sound came from outside the door.

At first, he thought he might have heard it wrong.

But soon after, when the knocking came again, Park Yoo-geon quickly glanced at the clock.

3:15 AM.

Too late for a visitor.

With a startled heart, Park Yoo-geon headed toward the door.

"Who… who is it?"

"It's Yoo-geon, right?"

"…!"

"It's Dad."

When he hurriedly opened the door, there stood Park Jong-in in a suit.

"Are you just getting off work?"

"Yes. I saw the office lights were on as I was coming in."

'Did he come because he was worried?'

"May I come in?"

He was sure he would suggest going home, but instead, he asked this.

Surprised, Park Yoo-geon nodded.

"Do you still have more work to do?"

"Yes, just a little."

"Judging by your expression… things aren't going well, are they?"

Park Yoo-geon gave an awkward smile.

A little later, the father and son sat facing each other across the table.

"When was the last time we had a one-on-one conversation?"

He couldn't come up with an answer.

"Yoo-geon."

"…Yes."

"From what I see, my son is working hard enough."

"..."

"Game development is steadily progressing, and your grades have been consistent. But why do you seem so impatient to me?"

"I don't know."

After a brief pause, Park Yoo-geon continued.

"Maybe it's because the goal is too high?"

"That goal wasn't set by you, right?"

Nod, nod.

"To meet Grandfather's expectations… it feels like just doing my best isn't enough."

Park Jong-in's face became filled with pity at his son's words.

How could it not be?

Living with the giant named Park Yong-hak as your benchmark.

A life constantly compared to an unreachable figure, no matter how hard you try.

This had been the way of life that Park Jong-in had endured for decades.

Did Park Yoo-geon sense the sorrow in his father's eyes?

He slowly asked,

"How did you handle it, Dad?"

"…What?"

"When the high expectations weighed heavily on your shoulders, how did you deal with it?"

Despite the grandeur of the question, Park Jong-in's answer was simple.

"I accepted my limitations."

"…?"

"I acknowledged that I couldn't be like Grandfather and filled the gaps with effort."

"But what if there are no gaps? What if I've worked so hard that there's not a single small gap left, and everything is packed tightly with effort…?"

Park Jong-in nodded heavily at his son's words.

His expression showed that he understood that feeling better than anyone.

But it was precisely because of this that Park Jong-in spoke even more firmly.

"Once I accepted the limitations of my existence, the limits of my effort finally shattered."

"What do you mean by that…?"

"Do you remember when I told you about my time in the audio division?"

Nod, nod.

"Back then, I thought there was no room for more effort. I was already pushing myself to the brink, even to the point of nosebleeds, so what more could I do? Then suddenly, a thought crossed my mind."

"…?"

"If reducing my sleep isn't enough, then I might as well listen even while I sleep. If someone can make that speaker, what's so hard about just listening to it…? From that day on, I bought every product available and listened to them 24 hours a day."

This anecdote is well-known.

It's said that he installed speakers not only in his bedroom but even in the bathroom, so he could listen continuously.

"After repeating that for two full years, my ears finally began to open up a bit. Thanks to that, I gained a precious milestone. Even if I can't fully trust myself, I will never doubt the power of time."

Never doubt the power of time?

There was a peculiar resonance in those words.

The urge to get up and sit at his desk immediately was proof of that.

Did his father sense the change in him?

Park Jong-in smiled gently and asked,

"Are you planning to go to school from here today?"

"Yes."

"Is there anything you need?"

"Uh… Could you give me some allowance?"

"Allowance?"

"I want to try out all the games that have been released so far."

***

Park Yoo-geon was splitting his time and using every bit of it.

After school, he was working on the card game; in the early mornings, he was brainstorming a new game. Even if he had two bodies, it wouldn't be enough!

During those times, Park Yoo-geon repeatedly recited his father's words like a mantra.

Believe in the power of time.

Yes, time will never betray you.

Fortunately, there were results.

He was deeply inspired by a game called "Rogue," released in the 1980s, and came up with a new system!

"The game's concept is dungeon crawling."

Although the volume was small due to storage limitations, the difficulty was set to extreme, leading to repeated attempts at the same sections, thus extending the playtime.

Now, you might wonder.

Wouldn't it get boring to keep repeating the same sections?

This is where the uniqueness of the game comes into play.

While the basic map might repeat, the skills and items are distributed randomly!

Moreover, skills and items take up very little storage space.

"So, you can include dozens or even hundreds of them."

Thanks to the numerous possibilities, the gameplay would inevitably change every time.

Thus, even when clearing the same stage, players could always expect a new experience.

Park Yoo-geon first explained this concept to Martin.

"Bravo!"

Surprisingly, Martin's mouth dropped open as he shouted in excitement.

But that reaction was short-lived. Martin soon regained the typical calmness of an engineering student and said,

"But there's one thing that bothers me."

"…?"

"Even though it's clearly an homage, it wouldn't hurt to be careful, right?"

What Martin meant was that there could be accusations of plagiarism, so it would be best to clarify things from the start.

"Why not boldly include 'Rogue' in the name?"

"Like what?"

"Since it's made similarly to Rogue… how about 'Roguelike'? Hmm… is that going too far?"

Roguelike.

It didn't sound bad.

More than anything, he liked the idea of putting the name of the game that inspired them front and center.

A sort of direct approach!

In any case.

Planning, Park Yoo-geon.

Development, Martin.

The two pillars of game creation were more or less established.

All that was left was 'art,' or design.

Since it was a personal project, bringing in external help wasn't an option.

Somehow, it had to be handled internally.

Fortunately, there was someone who came to mind.

No need to look far—right downstairs was someone who had even pursued a PhD in fine arts at Seoul National University.

Isn't fine art quite different from commercial art?

"Is this really the time to be picky about that…?"

Might as well give it a shot.

Park Yoo-geon quickly ran downstairs.