The Game Director that Returned from Hell - Chapter 11

WeTried Translations

Translator/Editor: Potter

Discord: https://dsc.gg/wetried

◈ The Game Director that Returned from Hell ◈

Chapter 11

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There was a post that appeared almost every day on one North American community.

『Fucking giant!』

In other words, “That damned giant!”

It was, of course, a post cursing Hellic’s final boss, the Cancer Giant. This was the result of the stir “mike tester” had caused among hardcore fans.

The reason most of the posts were full of curses was obvious. It came down to the Cancer Giant’s basic design.

HP in the thousands, overwhelming defense that reduced all damage to 1, and immunity to additional attacks caused by weapon properties.

On top of that, it used almost every mechanic in the game. For hardcore players fighting the Cancer Giant without any gear on their first playthrough, just like “mike tester,” it was nothing short of a nightmare.

It got so bad that people started saying things like this.

『Ah, should I just finish my first playthrough and learn its attack patterns? I’d at least like to get some experience beating the Cancer Giant in the final boss room.』

That was what Yeonho had intended.

Killing the Cancer Giant early was essentially an Easter egg. To encourage normal play, he had made every option other than “running away” extremely unappealing.

Yeonho wanted players to become “aware” of the Cancer Giant as they avoided it, and to “learn” its patterns in the process.

Then, in the final boss fight, he wanted them to feel the satisfaction of facing the monster they had been fleeing all this time and defeating it head-on.

In an ordinary community, the people giving up on the challenge would have taken the lead by now, and some players would have reached the ending.

But there was a problem.

This community was far too different from an ordinary one.

『┕Coward.

┕Then get the hell out. No fighting spirit at all. You’re worse than my scared five-year-old daughter.

┕Someone like that calls themselves a gamer? What a disgrace to gamers.』

Yeonho’s intentions found no support among the community’s current majority.

As mentioned several times before, this was a place obsessed with difficult challenges and the satisfaction of overcoming them.

“Defeat an unknown enemy when you have no chance of winning.”

These stubborn maniacs were so obsessed with that idea that they had rejected reason.

Even if someone said something sensible, they would quickly come under fire.

That was only natural. Anyone planning to play sensibly wouldn’t have joined a community like this in the first place.

At any rate, the challenge gained a cult following within the community and spread steadily.

It turned into a full-blown storm when the people known as “the community’s cowards” fled to other communities.

『Let me introduce a new game.』

Some enjoyed the game itself but wanted to quit the challenge.

『The latest atrocities from those hardcore community freaks.』

Others wanted to bad-mouth the closed-off hardcore community.

Together, their migration created a kind of controversy-driven publicity.

The title “Hellic” began appearing here and there in major communities.

By the time people started asking, “So, is it fun?” Hellic was already a new release whose name could be found even in large gaming communities.

It had taken exactly three days.

That was when a post appeared that would bring this whole storm to its climax.

『I tried mining Hellic’s game data.

There’s an Easter egg hidden in the Cancer Giant.

It definitely drops a special item if you kill it before the boss room, but the security beyond that is so tight that I can’t figure out what the item is with my skills.

Anyone out there willing to kill this thing?』

Yeonho’s Easter egg had been revealed to the world.

The community immediately erupted with excitement.

Undiscovered data.

An Easter egg the developer had gone out of his way to protect.

Anyone who didn’t get excited by a secret like that had no right to call themselves a gamer.

Many people began challenging the Cancer Giant. When nobody managed to succeed, someone finally put a bounty on it.

『Putting a bounty on that fucking Giant.

I want to know what this damn Easter egg is, but I’m not good enough to kill the Giant myself.

Someone kill it before the boss room for me and post a screenshot as proof.

I’ll give $1,000 to the first five people who succeed.

writer : s

-ven

┕what the···

┕Is it time for me to step up...?

┕Someone call in the community next door!

┕But how do we know we can trust this?

┕Idiot, don’t you know who posted this? That’s Hollywood actor Rington’s son!』

What followed was a miraculous coming together.

A post from a spoiled brat with more money than he needed and no desire to suffer had lit a fire in the hearts of unemployed gamers with no money and plenty of time.

『Hey, we’re allies for now.』

The cowards who had fled and the freaks who had stayed to the end came together again.

Most of the other users who had been playing out of interest in the game itself joined them.

『Cancer Giant Mechanics Guide』

『Using the Map to Counter the Giant’s Mechanics』

『A Frame-by-Frame Study of the Giant’s Hit Detection』

And so, a new wind began to blow.

* * *

Han Seorim had gone on an MT retreat.

She had been stressing herself out all day over reactions to the game, so I’d taken drastic action.

If an excessive obsession with feedback wasn’t dealt with early, it could leave a deep wound in a developer’s ego later.

I had to get it under control now.

‘Doing something else for a while should help her clear her head.’

That was the thinking behind sending Han Seorim away.

Relaxing at home for the first time in a while, I found that the day felt quite leisurely.

Of course, I still couldn’t get thoughts of the game out of my head entirely.

‘I should rest until I have a clearer picture of sales.’

I expected sales to start rising in another two months or so.

That was roughly how long it would take for dedicated players to explore every last corner of the game, reach an overall verdict, and spread the word.

I meant overseas sales, not domestic ones.

I hadn’t seriously targeted the Korean market in the first place.

My goal for the domestic market had only been to “establish a minimal sales history.”

A few reviews would have been even better.

Why hadn’t I aimed for more?

Because failure was obvious.

‘The response we’ve already had in Korea is enough to meet the goal. Anything more will be difficult.’

It went without saying that a buy-to-play game couldn’t win over the Korean mainstream.

The extensive network of internet cables laid across this small country had created a culture centered on the online game market.

Korea loved multiplayer games built around competition and progression.

In that environment, what would happen if a single-player indie game like Hellic were released only in Korea? It would disappear without anyone noticing.

That was especially true in this era.

‘The golden age of online games.’

This was when Korea’s leading online game franchises were growing rapidly.

Without the highly toxic monetization models or the barriers to entry that came from years of live service, online games were expanding at an explosive rate. It truly deserved to be called the birth of a new culture.

Things would get a little bleak in the future... but that was how they stood for now.

‘So, in short, this is my downtime.’

Setting the domestic response aside and looking only overseas, I couldn’t even estimate sales yet. I’d finished fixing the bugs, too, so there was nothing more I could do right now.

I couldn’t get started on planning a new game, either.

Money was one problem.

‘The next game needs to be bigger.’

There was a game I wanted to make next.

Given my current situation, it would have to stay at the indie level, but I had something larger than Hellic in mind.

That made the budget important.

But with no idea how much money I could secure, I couldn’t carelessly move into even the planning stage.

That part was frustrating.

‘Coming back to the past is great and all, but my entire career is gone.’

If I could use my career to win people over, something like crowdfunding would be an option.

Donation-based crowdfunding had just emerged around this time.

If I could bring in development funds from outside, I could try making a slightly larger game.

‘But that’s out of the question.’

Hellic was a perfect example.

Whether a crowdfunding campaign succeeded depended on how many people were looking forward to a developer’s next game. But Hellic, my only credit right now, was so small that calling it a career achievement felt embarrassing.

I didn’t have the credibility to make a campaign succeed.

‘Money, money, money.’

I had hated that damned company with a passion, but as long as I worked in a commercial field, money would always hold me back.

‘Should I just find a publisher?’

That horrible thought briefly crossed my mind before I shook it off.

No, of course not. Who knew how a publisher might interfere with my game if I chose the wrong one?

For now, it was better to struggle a little more in an environment where I was free.

Just imagining a publisher breathing down my neck sent a chill through me.

I could say for certain that it wouldn’t be much different from the pressure I’d faced at the company.

A director’s authority was nothing but a sandcastle in the face of money.

“Phew.”

A sigh escaped me.

Enough thinking about money.

During a break, I needed to focus on resting.

I wasn’t even going to open the community or the Steam sales tab.

For a while, I planned to relax and revisit the classics released around this time.

Taking in new material was one of the lifelong responsibilities of a developer.

I gathered my things and left my room.

“Yeonho, are you going out?”

“Yes, I’m heading to school.”

“Oh, my son works so hard at his studies.”

“I have to give you a comfortable life, Mom. See you later.”

After saying goodbye to my mother, I left the house.

My chest ached a little.

‘Sorry, Mom.’

Your son hasn’t been studying lately.

* * *

Two days passed.

I had no morning classes that day, so I arrived at school rather late.

“Seonbae!!!”

A clear, piercing shout rang out.

I looked up to find Han Seorim running toward me from far away.

Never mind the anxious expression... Today was the last day of the retreat. Had she stayed here instead of going straight home?

I had no time to find out.

“What are you doing here...?”

“What took you so long?! Do you even know what’s happened? And why aren’t you answering your phone?”

“...It’s on silent.”

“Ugh! You’re impossible! Just come with me!”

Han Seorim grabbed my wrist and started dragging me across campus.

Being dragged away in a rush before I could even say hello was a little bewildering.

“What is it?”

“Just come! You need to see this for yourself!”

Her voice sounded urgent, too.

Or was that excitement?

Something had definitely happened.

By now, I was starting to get nervous.

“Can’t you just tell me...?”

“You’ll understand when you see it!”

Han Seorim dragged me all the way to the clubroom.

She threw open the door, pulled me over to the computer, and sat me down.

The computer was already on.

“Look at this!”

Not giving me a moment to breathe, huh?

Still dazed, I turned toward the computer.

That was when it happened.

“All right. Just calm down...”

My breath stopped at the sight of what was displayed on the monitor.

“...What is this?”

“That’s what I want to ask!”

Thump!

Han Seorim struck the desk.

Even then, I couldn’t take my eyes off the monitor.

The Steam store rankings page was open.

Near the bottom of the list:

『97, Hellic』

Hellic was on the rankings.

It made no sense.

I looked at Han Seorim.

“We made the rankings! Huh? We made the rankings!”

Beaming, Han Seorim grabbed me by the collar and shook me back and forth.

My head was rattling, but even then, I couldn’t stop wondering, “Why?”

Of course I couldn’t.

As far as I knew, Hellic was still just a game passed around among a handful of hardcore fans in Korean communities.

Steam’s Korean launch was still a year away. Access alone meant that few Korean customers would be using it.

That left overseas customers. But getting a response this quickly from the overseas market, with a game made by two Korean developers who had no connections to America, was absurd.

So how had the game made it into the rankings?

How had a game that cost a full $4.99 climbed above American free-to-play games enjoying huge popularity on Steam?

“What the...?”

As I struggled to understand the situation, Han Seorim gave me an answer.

“Here, look at this, too.”

With a few quick movements of the mouse, Han Seorim opened the community she always visited to search for mentions of herself.

Only then did everything start making sense.

A stunned laugh escaped me.

“These lunatics...”

『(General) Waiting4Zodiac3: Breaking news! Hellic Easter egg discovered in a US community!

p.s. There was a huge event with a cash bounty, too!』

In short, that was what had happened.