Say Yes To Making Bad Games, What the Hell is Titanfall?, Translation

"Bullet hell shooter?!" Luke Bennett grimaced.

He'd have taken any genre Zoey threw out—even a niche real-time strategy game. But bullet hell?

"Have you even played one?" Luke asked, barely holding back.

Zoey, undeterred, waved a hand. "The less popular the genre, the bigger the splash we'll make at the expo!" She turned to Gus Shepard. "Right, Gus?"

Gus paused, considering. Zoey's logic wasn't crazy. Unpopular didn't mean unfun. Games like Starstrike and DreamWeaver from his past life were cult classics, beloved for their chaotic charm. Plus, bullet hell games were low-tech enough for his Game Vault system to handle.

"Zoey's got a point," Gus said, nodding. "Challenging the impossible is what keeps WindyPeak alive."

Zoey smirked internally. Sucker.

"Settled, then?" she pressed. "Now, gameplay. I say we switch things up—go serious this time."

No more goofy nonsense like mocking cats, launching pipes, or diapered babies with physics-defying antics. Gus's knack for absurd games was a player magnet, and Zoey was done with it. Serious meant boring. Boring meant no sales.

Gus nodded, unfazed. He'd been itching to pivot styles anyway. Zoey's suggestion was perfect timing.

"Fine by me," he said.

Zoey shot him a sly glance. Keep acting cool. You're sweating inside, right? Don't worry, I won't judge your mess.

Emboldened by Gus's calm, Zoey went wild in the meeting:

"Top-down perspective, retro vibe—full pixel art, nothing fancy."

"No hand-holding gameplay. Survive as long as you can."

"Oh, and one life only. Die, and it's game over. Hardcore challenge."

"Stack enemies like crazy—swarm the screen!"

By the end, Luke, Jake Rivers, and even Chloe Quinn were green-faced. Zoey had cherry-picked every toxic, player-repelling trope in gaming.

Even Chloe, Zoey's biggest cheerleader, thought she'd lost it. Sell the company already! Why sabotage your own game?

"Cough!" Chloe interrupted Zoey's rant. "Zoey, maybe… take a breather?"

Zoey faltered, noticing the room's sour mood. Oops, maybe I overdid it…

But Gus, of all people, came to her rescue. "No worries, Chloe. Zoey's got a unique vision here."

He twirled his pen, looking at Zoey. "Any more ideas?"

Luke nearly yanked his hair out. Gus, are you nuts?! Zoey's plan was a trainwreck—pixel art, one-life permadeath, enemy spam? No one would buy this garbage!

"You're not seriously going for this, are you?" Luke muttered, glaring at Gus. What, are you a masochist?

Zoey was equally shocked. She'd expected Gus to push back against her absurd demands. Instead, he was scribbling notes, cool as ever. It almost made her feel bad.

"Uh… more ideas?" she asked cautiously.

Gus chuckled. "You're setting the tone, Zoey. I'm all ears."

His calm rattled her. Why's he so chill? Then it hit her: he was probably checked out, doodling in his notebook to cope with her nonsense.

Relieved, Zoey relaxed. He's given up. Perfect.

"One last thing," she said, noting Luke and Jake's death stares. "No fixed gear system. Make equipment random—pure chaos."