Game Director from Hell - Chapter 63: Pit of Bitterness (1)
The next afternoon, Yang Gilsang asked.
“Are you okay?”
“What are you talking about?”
“I mean that. E3 next year.”
When I raised my head, I could see a serious expression on his face.
Why was he acting like this? When I looked at him, the answer came quickly.
“It’s too soon.”
“Too soon?”
“Yes, think about it. There are only about 10 months left until E3 next year. No, if you consider the inspection and preparation process before the actual exhibition, it’s even more pressing. There’s not much time. The visit from Sony itself will take less than six months. I’m not confident that we can raise Hellic 3 to a level where it can be demonstrated within that time.”
It was a suggestion for me to reconsider accepting this offer.
Certainly, it was a reasonable opinion.
Participating in E3 2013 was like a gamble.
If Hellic 3 showed performance below a certain level there, it could backfire right from the start.
But there was also a fact that Gilsang Yang had overlooked.
In this regard, Hellic 3 was showing that it was his first game development job.
“We don’t have to finish everything.”
“I know. Including the prologue, maybe 1-2 chapters. I know that’s the only part we can show, but…”
“Then it’s even easier to talk about. Six months should be enough.”
He had set a three-year development period, thinking that the actual implementation would take that long.
But he was wrong.
Even for just the prologue chapter, the game was already at a stage where actual implementation was possible.
From my personal experience, the only two processes that took an unusually long time were the labor-intensive art work, which had been a major obstacle in the early stages, and the debugging work, which was filled with various variables.
Currently, the volume of these two core tasks had been greatly reduced.
Art was in the process of adding textures to the already modelled playable character from the early stages, and the programming work had crossed a major milestone by implementing the basic combat system in the previous phase.
In other words, now the only remaining obstacles for Rewind were map modelling and various bugs that would occur after implementation.
“Of course, there could be problems during debugging. Programming itself is a problem that can’t be solved even if the gods of heaven intervene.”
“Then…”
“Even considering that, we’ll finish it within a maximum of 8 months.”
I couldn’t provide concrete evidence for this confidence.
It was based on empirical evidence.
It was like elderly people saying that their knees hurt before it rained.
In my past life and in the development experience I gained in this life, I could estimate that it would take about this long to perform at this volume.
Anyway, to cut to the chase.
“We have to participate. It’s such a good opportunity. From now on, Hellic 3 needs its own marketing. Relying on the fame of the previous work has its limits. It will be three years until the planned release date, and by then, Hellic 2 will have been forgotten by customers. That’s because in the AAA market, what we can offer has diminished.”
That’s how trends in this industry work.
Games that lead the trends change dozens of times a year, and each time, the previous trend becomes “outdated fashion” and is forgotten by the public.
But what we could offer now was that outdated trend.
Moreover,
“There are other benefits besides simple marketing intentions.”
“What do you mean by that?”
“It’s an opportunity to raise Rewind’s performance. There’s a big difference between having completed a game and not having completed it.”
It was easy to understand when I thought about when Hellic 2 was made.
Come to think of it, the situation was quite similar.
Especially the fact that we had to make a demo version for participating in the game exhibition.
“Most of the employees are developing their first game. They don’t see the big picture of the overall situation during the development process. I believe you know that the difference between knowing and not knowing is self-evident. Now is the time to accumulate experience.”
I could see Yang Gilsang tapping a calculator in his head.
The answer that came back was a sigh mixed with a positive one.
“…If that’s what the CEO wants, then lets go. You know this industry better than I do, and more importantly, you’re the ultimate decision maker.”
“Thank you for understanding.”
“I trust you. Development is entirely within the boss’s domain.”
“Don’t worry about that part.”
With this, it seemed like the agreement was concluded.
I had forgotten about the chicken breast.
Yang Gilsang asked, “Why have you been eating like that?”
“Diet.”
“?”
“I’m in the middle of exercising.”
It was an effort to forget the gruelling memory of lifting 300 kilograms.
Of course, that day had particularly low performance due to accumulated fatigue, but it still fell short of the target.
“I need to reach 200 kilograms in the squat.”
Coming back in normal condition, I had measured it again at 140 kilograms for squats.
Han Seorim had done 180 kilograms.
…At the very least, I should aim to surpass Han Seorim.
“It’s good to take care of your health…”
Yang Gilsang seemed disappointed.
Come to think of it, there was no one else at the company who could eat at that snack bar except for me.
I said somewhat hesitantly, “I’ll go for bibimbap twice a week. I need a cheat day, after all.”
I wasn’t sure if I could call it a cheat day, but anyway.
“Do you promise?”
Yang Gilsang’s expression brightened, so maybe that was enough.
I decided not to think too much about the connection between the taste of bibimbap and cheating.
***
Setting short-term goals is important.
Especially in projects like game development that take years to complete, the importance of these goals cannot be overstated.
Amidst various external factors and internal progress, the demo production had begun.
The prologue had already been handed over to the QA department, and now the immediate task was to create the first chapter with an estimated playtime of two and a half hours.
In mid-October, the modelling of the map arrived on my computer.
On my monitor appeared a sticky, pale gray swamp with dry trees rising above it.
One distinctive feature was the roots rising from the swamp, intertwined like tangled threads.
“Wow…”
Jo Ayoon, who had pulled a chair and sat next to me, opened her mouth wide in amazement.
Then, a piece of chocolate appeared in Jo Ayoon’s mouth.
I raised my index finger to indicate that she should close her mouth, and Jo Ayoon swallowed the chocolate with a gulp.
Jo Ayoon said after swallowing, “It’s amazing! Right! Boss, you should have some chocolate too. Ah~!”
“It’s okay, I’m on a diet.”
“Oh…”
Feeling sorry for her quickly deflated expression, I picked up the smallest piece and popped it into my mouth.
Jo Ayoon’s expression brightened as if she had just tasted the best thing in the world.
The sweetness filled my mouth as if I was committing a sin.
I swallowed it all at once to avoid feeling guilty for savouring it for too long.
After that, I asked Jo Ayoon about her thoughts on the map modelling.
“What do you think of the map?”
“It’s amazing! It’s all sticky, but clean… No, it’s clear…? No…! It’s not that, but anyway, it feels captivating…”
As expected of Jo Ayoon, who was weak in Korean (actually, she was weak in all subjects), her expression was brutally lacking in eloquence.
But she hit the nail on the head when it mattered most.
Her intuition, as Jo Ayoon-like as it was, had grasped the essential keywords.
“Aren’t we in Chapter 1 here?”
“That’s right. It’s the place that comes out right after opening the first door in the temple.”
Jo Ayoon took out her notebook and jotted down my words.
She was looking for sound sources for the sound work.
While she was scribbling away, she suddenly asked, “Um, isn’t it…?”
“Hmm?”
“After all, the BGM should be grand, right?”
I tilted my head, and Jo Ayoon clenched her fist excitedly.
“In the monster modelling, there are monsters that look like mirages, right…! The protagonist defeats them and overcomes trials to move on to the next location, right? The game is action, so… How about a grand orchestral orchestra with a bassoon for the swamp? Playing it in a sticky way…”
Jo Ayoon, who was pouring out words, was filled with enthusiasm.
Rather than spitting out predetermined content, she seemed to be organizing fragmented information into words.
But the unfortunate fact was that Jo Ayoon’s expectations were wrong.
“No, it should have a gloomy tone. Hmm… Yes, like this chocolate, it should leave a bitter aftertaste.”
“Um…?”
“We need to create a dark atmosphere.”
I tapped the monitor while speaking, and Jo Ayoon’s head tilted with a stubborn look.
It seemed like a hook was floating above her head.
“…Even though it’s an action game?”
“Yes.”
“But the protagonist defeats them all…?”
“They don’t get destroyed.”
Ah, now that I thought about it, I hadn’t conveyed the full narrative of this game to Jo Ayoon yet.
Realizing my mistake belatedly, I said, “Oh, right.”
Jo Ayoon’s expression darkened as if she had realized her mistake.
She looked like she had swallowed a bitter pill.
“…Action, right?”
“I can’t break it. The main characters in the story just have to find a way out here.”
“Huh…?”
I pointed out what she had missed.
“This place is hell.”
The background of Hellic is hell.
Where those who commit sins go to receive their punishment.
Of course, the standards for those sins are far from human laws and ethics, but when it comes to their journey within the framework of hell’s justice, there is something quite clear.
“These guys are prisoners in hell. They came here to receive their punishment. How can they break out of prison? Maybe if they try to escape.”
The protagonists of Hellic 3 are prisoners.
Prisoners couldn’t break out of the prison.
The only thing they could try was escape.
In that context, their story essentially follows the structure of ‘the escape process of prisoners.’
“Of course…”
The success or failure was a separate story.
That moment was revisited.
And then there was something that became clear again.
“As expected.”
Hell in the midst of a war was one of the most unpleasant hells I had visited among many hells.
Hell in the midst of a war, a temple in an outlying region.
As Napoleon’s body and three other soldiers passed through an empty corridor.
“There’s a door here.”
There was a stone door with an unknown language written in red.
The Paladin said, “It could be a symbol of the ominous devil worshipers. The work of witches, perhaps?”
The soldier replied, “There are no witches in this world. Witch hunts are terrible crimes.”
“What did you say? Defending witches! That’s right! You’re one of the witch’s accomplices!”
“What nonsense…”
“Stop it. This is not the time for an argument.”
Spartan intervened.
He was a wise man who realized that discussion was needed more than fighting.
“Let’s exchange information first…”
Kugugugung!
It failed.
The reason was that the barbarian took the opportunity to open the door.
“We don’t know the place; we will find out when we go.”
The opinion accompanied by the barbarian’s physical strength made the Paladin shout in desperation.
“You wretched man!”
“Noisy one, I’ll rip your mouth.”
Another fight broke out.
This time, the soldier and the Spartan separated the two to stop the fight.
“Enough! Whatever it is, the door is already open! And don’t you forget? The place we need to go was beyond that from the beginning!”
As the soldier said, it was true that the door had already been opened by the barbarian’s unilateral action.
Since they had to go there anyway, hesitation was best kept short.
The Paladin also calmed down quickly when he realized this fact, and the gaze of the four turned toward the other side of the door.
I also looked at the same place.
It was a strange and astonishing sight, enough to wash away the tension caused by the recent argument.
“A swamp!”
“Is a swamp supposed to be this shade of blue?”
“I don’t know. But at least there’s no such thing in Sparta.”
“…I feel the same way. I thought I knew every corner of the world, but this is the first time I’ve seen something like this.”
A muddy swamp with a pale grayish-blue hue, even though the ground was full of moisture, the protruding tree roots were all dried up.
Among them, the tree roots that rose above the surface of the water were all tangled in such a way that their beginning and end could not be determined, and the wind blowing over them was filled with cold.
Of course, there was nothing which was not visually repulsive.
There was only one missing element for it to be just a strange and eerie sight.
It was the soldier who noticed the strange point.
“…The temple we entered was supposed to be in the middle of a wasteland.”
They had come here from the battlefield, fought, and formed an alliance, and the temple they entered was clearly in a wasteland.
I knew it because I had followed them.
But when they opened the temple door, it led to a swamp.
It’s too awkward to call it an exit; it feels like the space is seamlessly attached to the temple.
They couldn’t easily move forward.
But they didn’t stop either.
…They kept moving.
The soldier loaded his gun and walked out slowly.
The other three also moved while clutching their weapons.
They naturally formed a formation.
It’s a swamp where you don’t know what’s lurking below, but it’s like walking on intertwined tree roots.
How long had that moments passed?
At the time, I was gradually adapting to the task of observing Hell.
“What’s going to come out?”
As far as I know, every space in Hell was not used in vain.
As if the space itself had a will, that world pulsated and placed the punishment for prisoners in every space that held prisoners.
So, this swamp was probably some terrible punishment for them.
The first thing I thought of was guards suddenly jumping out.
Or monsters emerging from the swamp.
But my expectations were wrong.
As always, Hell had a more creative performance than I expected.
…Oh.
Drip…
The voice came from the dry tree.
“W-What is it?”
The paladin attached his sword and shield to his body.
The barbarian made a low growl.
The soldier had already loaded his gun and moved, and the Spartan stared blankly at the tree.
My reaction was closest to Spartan’s.
I just stared at the tree.
“W-What is it?”
Drip, the face appeared on the tree with the sound.
It was a child’s face.
Due to the vibration, the voice seemed to overlap, two holes shaped like eyes, and tears flowing from there.
There was something I could tell if I carefully examined the tears flowing from the tree’s eyes.
Ah.
The tears flowing from the tree’s eyes were the gray mud on the swamp floor.
The sudden, strange, and unexpected appearance.
The four of them stared at the tree with heightened vigilance.
“What is it?”
“How am I supposed to know?”
However, their dilemma did not last long.
The tree provided an intuitive answer.
“Da-da-da-daddy… When is he coming?”
The face on the tree had become gaunt.
At that moment, their faces froze.
Like someone who suddenly thought of something terrible from just one word.
“What is it?”
“Is there anyone with fire?! Burn it! We have to burn that ominous thing!”
They were soldiers heading to the battlefield.
“Daddy, daddy, daddy, is he coming today too?”
The voice coming from the tree’s mouth was that of a child waiting for her father.
“Hurry up and burn it! We need someone with fire!”
“Ugh…”
The soldier and the tree were in Hell.
Hell is a place that accepts sinners and inflicts punishment on them.
“…Ah.”
Puzzle pieces began to fit together on the board.
There was a picture that was gradually completed by fitting them together.
Furthermore, at the moment of completion, Hell gave me an answer.
A whisper engraved words in my brain.
“Pit of Bitterness.”
This place was a location that showed the bitterness entwined with the life taken by someone who participated in the war.
It stimulated a sense of guilt.
Every element making up the space was like that.
The swamp overflowed with the bitterness that flowed from the tree’s eyes.
The tangled roots represented causality.
The roots were shaped like tangled threads, representing the process of evil flowing into bitterness through the soldier’s sword and affecting the remaining connections.
The four of them saw their own sins through the tree.
In other words, the tree would appear to them like a mirage, dried up and stuck, locked in bitterness by their own actions.
The moment they realized it was after they had already fallen into the swamp.
All they could do was struggle, so let’s conclude this swamp.
“This is wicked.”
I was still judging.
…No, it’s not!
The paladin finally stumbled back after a seizure.
Soon, tragedy came to him as he tried to run away.
Clunk!
One of the roots on the ground shot up.
Swoosh!
It pierced the paladin’s heart.
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