Game Director from Hell - Chapter 26: G-STAR (1)
The general gaming community was generally lively. Especially in the late 2000s, when acclaimed AAA games were pouring in, the so-called “buzz” or hot topics were constantly emerging and evolving.
Of course, even in such places, there were times when the enthusiasm waned. This was one of those times.
(Casual Chat) S2PoppyS2: “I have nothing to play… ^^”
As mentioned earlier, the overall gaming community thrived when there were major releases or big hits. However, that wasn’t the case at the moment.
(Casual Chat) BangbaedongFeudalLord: “I think it’s because all the highly anticipated games are scheduled for the second half of the year.”
(Casual Chat) ZonHanSu: “Wasn’t Uncity 2 supposed to come out this year?”
(Casual Chat) Guksinanayo: “I think Call of Honor was also scheduled for the second half, right?” [Call of Duty probably]
(Casual Chat) Goppli Prosecutor: “Ah, the game market is doomed, lol.”
Gamers in the community were thirsty for new releases. The recent releases had already been thoroughly dissected and discussed, resulting in conversations like, “That game was good,” or “The community is dead.”
It was during such times that a post appeared.
(Promotion) SeorimSeorim: “Hellic 2! Participating in G-STAR!”
Rewind Studio, the indie game developer that had once set the community on fire, was back with news of their new game just when it was most anticipated.
(Casual Chat) Guksinanayo: “Wow, a new game already? That’s fast.”
(Casual Chat) KkotjaeHeeEanduipsul: “Participating in G-STAR lolololol Oh lolololol”
The previous game, Hellic, had been a success. It had a reputation for being more successful internationally than domestically, and that alone made it a hot topic. Expectations for the sequel were already established, and now that it was officially being showcased at G-STAR under the account “SeorimSeorim,” the hesitant community became excited.
There were people who were particularly happy about this – the hardcore players who possessed the Easter Egg “Cancer Bat.”
(Casual Chat) KkotjaeHeeEanduipsul: “Weren’t there guys here got the Cancer Bat?”
(Casual Chat) BangbaedongFeudalLord: “I’m waiting for my third one, along with Poppy and Tmeongeun, and Goppli Prosecutor too, lol.”
(Casual Chat) KkotjaeHeeEanduipsul: “Haha, sounds good. But isn’t Goppli taking the college entrance exam this year?”
(Casual Chat) Goppli Prosecutor: “ㅎ;”
While the initial Cancer Bat was obtained by an American player named James Han, the country with the most Cancer Bat holders was South Korea. There wasn’t any special reason for this. Hellic was originally a Korean game, and collecting and achieving things were inevitable aspects of the Korean gaming style.
The five Easter Egg holders started to share news about Hellic 2 on the community.
(Casual Chat) Helic2Waiting: “Wow! This is insane! Hellic 2 is coming! It’s coming to G-STAR!!!”
(Casual Chat) UjujeonjaengJoA: “Who’s this guy?”
(Casual Chat) S2PoppyS2: “It’s Zodiac3Waiting^^”
(Casual Chat) Guksinanayo: “I guess we didn’t know, that’s why we asked.”
(Casual Chat) Goppli Prosecutor: “Ahaha, it’s right after the college entrance exam, lol. Nice~ lol.”
(Casual Chat) BangbaedongFeudalLord: “But isn’t it unusual for news about a new game to come out so fast? I’m happy, but it’s a bit worrying.”
(Casual Chat) Tmeongeun: “Yeah, they’re probably rushing to make it and it’ll turn out bad, lol.”
Excitement and concern mixed in the voices of the community members. Nonetheless, the news of a new game release had warmed their hearts. Moreover, it was 2009, a time when concerns about “sequels not living up to expectations” weren’t as significant in the gaming market.
During this time, there was something else that garnered attention—the previously unnoticed “G-STAR.”
(Casual Chat) SweetBluelNam38: “This year… G-STAR will be held in Busan, right? ^^”
(Casual Chat) Helic2Waiting: “I need to book a train ticket right away, lol.”
(Casual Chat) BangbaedongFeudalLord: “Isn’t there anyone living in or near Busan? It’s a bit lonely to go alone.”
(Casual Chat) KkotjaeHeeEanduipsul: “Want to go with me? I live in Gimhae.”
(Casual Chat) Tmeongeun: “So, what’s at G-STAR?”
In the midst of a scorching summer, the community saw the first productive “buzz” in a long time. And it was during such times…
(Casual Chat) UjujeonjaengJoA: “What’s Hellic, lol? Blizzard sharpened their knives, didn’t they? Go watch Space Craft 2 instead, lol. Space Craft 2 will dominate the next 10 years, lol.”
…that the tragedy quietly unfolded.
***
October had arrived, bringing the coolness of autumn to temper the heat. There were about 40 days left until G-STAR.
I had slept deeply and woke up after a long time.
“Yeonho, it’s time for lunch!”
My mother’s voice roused me, and when I checked the clock, it was 2 PM. I had fallen asleep the previous day at midnight, so I had slept for nearly 14 hours straight. It seemed my body was indeed in need of rest. It was fortunate that I could take a break like this.
I thought, “There’s nothing urgent to do right now.” The demo version was completed, and we had finished all the final bug fixes. We had submitted our entry, and while we had made plans for November, there was nothing pressing to add to the already finished development. Of course, we could start working on the main game, but there was no urgent need to do so. We could begin production sometime around mid-December, after G-STAR had ended.
I stretched, feeling the stiffness in my body slowly dissipate. When I entered the living room, I saw my father with a pensive look on his round face.
“Father, what’s wrong?”
“Leave him alone. He has been like this for a month now.”
“?”
“It’s all because of that baseball. Baseball!”
“Ah.”
This year was that year. The Giants had made it to the postseason for the first time in ten years.
“He hit a home run…”
“Ugh!”
…and my father banged his fists together. His enthusiasm didn’t seem to have any strength left. It was as if he had lost all hope in life.
“Let Dad be and have your meal. Ugh, how long is that guy going to obsess over baseball?”
I didn’t say anything and silently sat down at the dining table.
It was kimchi stew. It felt like it had been a long time since I had home-cooked food.
As I picked up my chopsticks and started eating, my mother spoke up.
“So, how’s your studying going these days? It’s so hard to see your face even when we live in the same house.”
I felt a bit guilty hearing my mother’s lament, but I hadn’t mentioned that I was making a game yet. It was a judgment I made, considering both personal desires and practical aspects. I recalled a similar situation from my previous life.
- “You’re quitting your job? To start a company?”
- “Yes, there’s something I really want to try.”
- “I see.”
It wasn’t a pleasant memory.
Starting from the days of solo game development, my parents had always been concerned about me. I expected a similar reaction if I were to tell them that I was starting a game company. People might support me on the outside, but deep down, they’d likely worry about me.
I recalled another memory from my past life. One where I had to console someone who had lost all hope.
- “Don’t you have a family to feed?”
- “Yes, but I have to try this.”
- “…I see.”
They were not good memories.
Since I was twenty-three years old and alone, I couldn’t blame my parents for worrying if I suddenly decided to start a business. As a responsible child, how could I put them in such a situation?
I quickly pushed away the gloomy thoughts. “I just need to finish this development,” I reminded myself. I was building the foundation to aim for at least AAA level, to win an Indie Game of the Year award. If I could show them awards and studio revenue figures, my parents would likely support me without much worry.
I decided it was best to reveal everything at that time.
I cleared my throat and replied, “I’m just busy with schoolwork and building my resume.”
I had been diligently managing my grades. I had already achieved the top rank once, and with the added practical experience from my previous life, it was even easier now.
I sat quietly, eating my meal, and my mother added a few more words.
“But still, you should always take care of your health. Your body is your most valuable asset.”
“Yes, I’m paying attention to that. You’ll be able to see me more often for a while.”
Maybe I should do some exercise or something.
Suddenly, the thought crossed my mind while I was in the midst of my thoughts.
“Ah.”
I should mention this.
“Um, I’m planning to go to Busan around late November. I’ll probably stay there for about a week.”
I let slip the idea that I needed permission for an overnight trip. My father reacted.
“Busan….?”
“Yes?”
“…No, nothing. Why Busan? Are you going to visit your grandmother or something?”
“No, it’s for work. If I have time, I might visit her.”
He was still thinking about baseball, it seemed. What on earth did baseball mean to my father?
“…Alright, go ahead.”
It was something beyond my understanding.
I simply nodded in response.
Time flew by quickly. Even though game development was fun, the law that holidays passed by faster still held true. Before I knew it, it was mid-November, and I had taken a lot of days off from work.
The employees who had gathered for a meeting looked somewhat unfamiliar, having taken their breaks.
“Did you all have a good rest?”
“Why is it already November?”
“Why? For what reason?”
The chatty duo was asking with blank faces. Among them, Jo Yumi, who was in the graduating class this year, seemed particularly worn out.
“…Yeonho, I’m graduating soon.”
“Congratulations. You won’t have to worry about finding a job. Just work here.”
“But… I still have to work on my graduation project.”
“You’ll do fine.”
“It was tough. While everyone else was resting, I couldn’t.”
Ah, so she felt it was unfair that she couldn’t take a break.
“Think of it as a graduation trip. You’ll have plenty of free time before and after G-STAR. Why not visit Haeundae or something?”
Centum City, where BEXCO was located, was right next to Haeundae. It was the winter sea, and if I had enough time, it might be nice to visit for a while.
“…Yeonho doesn’t understand human emotions.”
Jo Yumi muttered something nonsensical. I ignored her.
Clap!
I clapped my hands.
“We’re leaving the day after tomorrow. I’ve booked the train tickets and accommodations. Just bring the necessary equipment and yourself. I called this meeting because there’s something else to discuss today.”
The attention of my employees focused on me. Right, this was a meeting about an indispensable aspect of G-STAR.
“Without me saying it, you all understand that G-STAR is a major gaming expo. We’re not the only ones attending; dozens of other game developers will be showcasing their games there.”
That was the point I wanted to make.
“Even before we present our game, the competition for attention is fierce. Think of it like a car show. To attract attention to cars, they hire models to wear racing suits, right? In a larger context, it’s the same principle.”
In situations like this, marketing strategies were needed. And when the target audience was male, the surefire way to catch their attention was one thing.
“We need someone to do cosplay.”
Cosplay – in other words, booth babes.
Seorim asked, “Do we really have to go that far?”
“Well, we have to.”
Of course, it would be best to compete based on the quality of our game alone. Just showcasing the game by relying on the reputation of our company’s name would suffice. However, unfortunately, we were still a small company. In this case, aggressive promotion was necessary. Even the major game companies hired booth babes for a reason.
“But to be honest, it’s a bit too much.”
Let’s be honest. How many people among the customers visiting G-STAR would sit down to play a game after seeing a male cosplay model in an elaborate costume?
Probably not many.
“So, I’m saying this now. Who wants to do cosplay?”
As I said this, I looked at Han Seorim.
But I wasn’t the only one. Jo Ayoon, the Chatty Duo, and others also looked at Han Seorim.
Han Seorim’s mouth twitched.
“What’s going on? Why are you all looking at me?”
Why indeed.
The answer came from Jo Yumi.
“Seorim, your face looks really pretty, you know?”
“What…!”
Han Seorim’s face turned pale.
Well, it seemed like she didn’t need any more makeup.