"Cough, cough—can everyone hear ?"
Just as people were still chatting in small groups, a voice suddenly ca through the speakers in the hall.
The crowd imdiately quieted down and turned their attention toward the stage.
No one was on the stage yet—it seed the voice was coming from the backstage broadcast area.
"Is Mr. Takayuki here already?" soone whispered.
"The timing’s about right. He should be here soon, right?" another person said uncertainly.
"Heh. He’d better hurry up. I’m going to put him on trial right in front of everyone," Hanladi sneered, a trace of malice flashing in his eyes.
Because of Takayuki, he had fallen into debt.
If it weren’t for Takayuki, he believed he’d already be rich by now, living it up without a care in the world.
Takayuki was the obstacle that had stopped him from becoming part of the upper class.
If he couldn’t damage Takayuki’s reputation today, he felt this trip would have been pointless.
In the stack of papers he carried were multiple contingency plans—responses prepared for every possible reaction from Takayuki.
Plans for if Takayuki dodged the question, if he flew into a rage, or if he arrogantly admitted everything outright.
In short, he was fully prepared to make this big shot embarrass himself.
"Alright, the livestream window is now open. Thank you all for waiting. The exchange eting is about to begin. Ga developers may start preparing their questions. Mr. Takayuki will be spending the entire day answering questions and engaging in discussion."
"The entire day? I thought it was just a few hours?"
People looked at one another in surprise.
They had assud this would be more like a typical press conference.
But now it seed... that wasn’t the case at all.
It looked like Takayuki genuinely intended to have an in-depth exchange with developers.
"Countdown—three minutes. Mr. Takayuki has entered the venue. Please wait."
"One-minute countdown."
"Ten-second countdown."
...
"Three, two, one... music!"
Deng deng deng—deng deng deng!
A lody instantly recognizable to most of the developers in attendance filled the hall.
This tune was widely regarded as the beginning of the dream of video gas.
Its protagonist was a character from a ga—Super Mario.
Super Mario was now one of the most iconic figures in gaming history, an unsurpassable monunt.
Using this lody—symbolizing the birth of gaming dreams—as the opening of the event was proof that the organizers had truly put in effort.
"He’s here."
No one knew who said it first, but soon everyone saw a figure erge from backstage.
A man dressed simply in casual clothes.
Ti seed to have left few marks on his face—he still looked sunny and full of vitality.
The light in his eyes seed as if it would shine forever.
"Thank you all for waiting. Welco, ga developers."
Takayuki smiled warmly, sincerely eting the gazes of everyone looking at him.
So developers imdiately showed expressions of admiration.
They were seeing their idol in person.
To these developers, Takayuki was a symbol of light itself.
Of course, so were indifferent—and so harbored anger and resentnt.
"To be honest, I’ve wanted to hold more ga developer exchange events like this for a long ti," Takayuki said. "But over the past few years, I haven’t had much free ti. You all probably know—I’ve been deeply focused on developing Cyberpunk 2077. Fortunately, developnt is now in its final stages, and you’ll be able to play it soon."
"But I didn’t co here today to talk about myself, or to promote a ga. Today is mainly about ga developnt. If you have questions, or suggestions related to developnt, feel free to co on stage and talk openly."
As soon as he finished speaking, soone raised their hand.
It was a young developer, barely in his early twenties. His eyes sparkled with the sa light Takayuki carried.
"Mr. Takayuki, I’m a huge fan of yours. I absolutely love your gas. I have a question—I really want to make a rhythm ga, but I don’t know where to start. Could you give so advice?"
"Of course," Takayuki replied. "The core of rhythm gas lies in rhythm itself. If you want to start now, I suggest you first study musical rhythm and structure, rather than thinking about how to make the ga. Ga implentation can be left to Unreal Engine—it’s extrely professional. But in the end, it’s just a tool. The ability to express sothing aningful depends on you."
Before he even finished, another person excitedly stood up.
"Mr. Takayuki! I’m the developer of Crazy Brain. My ga type is a bit special—I think it’s a brand-new genre. Could you give so feedback?"
Takayuki shook his head apologetically. "I’m sorry—I haven’t played your ga yet, so I can’t give you advice right now. But you can leave your na and contact information. If you truly want my opinion, I’ll play it and give you a proper evaluation."
"Thank you so much!" the developer said happily, sitting back down.
Soone beside him whispered, "What kind of weird question was that? How could Mr. Takayuki have played your ga? That question was pointless."
"But it ans a lot to ," he replied. "And he said he’d personally play it and give feedback."
"He’s incredibly busy. There’s no way he has ti to play your ga—that’s a joke."
So people felt the question was unreasonable. They believed the discussion should focus on developnt thods or technical challenges. Asking Takayuki to evaluate a specific ga felt like asking too much.
At that mont, Hanladi seized the opportunity. Before anyone else could speak, he raised his hand and spoke loudly:
"Mr. Takayuki, I’d like to ask—why did you take down certain gas? I noticed they were all related to cyberpunk culture. Is it because you’re worried they might affect the upcoming release of Cyberpunk 2077?"
As soon as he finished, Takayuki looked straight at him.
"You an the gas that were recently removed at my instruction—over a hundred of them?"
"Yes. Those gas. Why did you take them down? Was it because you think they’re too bad? Or because you believe they’re not worthy of competing with Cyberpunk 2077?"
Hanladi’s tone grew increasingly aggressive, clearly trying to pressure Takayuki.
Takayuki rely frowned slightly.
"Your wording is inaccurate. It’s not that I think those gas are bad. I’m certain they’re bad. Their very existence is an insult to players. I was simply fulfilling the platform’s responsibility."
"Oh? You’re certain they’re bad? And what gives you the right to be so certain?"
Takayuki looked at him strangely. "Didn’t you hear just now? I didn’t say I think they’re bad. I said I’m certain."
"Certain?"
"Yes. Certain."
Takayuki nodded, then asked, "May I ask—have you played the gas I took down?"
"I—"
Takayuki continued, "Then let ask everyone here. Are there any developers present whose gas were taken down by ? Please raise your hand."
After about half a minute, Hanladi raised his hand. Soon, several others followed.
Takayuki looked at Hanladi. "So you’re one of the developers whose ga was removed. May I ask—what was the na of your ga?"
"C-Cyberpunk 2078."
Snort—
"That’s shaless. It’s blatant hype-riding. The na’s almost identical!"
Takayuki nodded in realization. "So you made that ga? I do rember it. A third-person ga about rampaging through a city—very similar to GTA. But I have to say, it had no story, no innovation in gaplay, and was riddled with bugs. If I were to make such a ga, it would take one night. That kind of work is careless and disrespectful to players. That’s why I took it down."
Hanladi was stunned.
What...?
How did he know the ga so well?
Ignoring his shock, Takayuki walked over to a computer on the stage, connected to the large screen behind him.
"To be honest, the foundation of this ga isn’t terrible. With a bit more care, it wouldn’t be so bad. Let show you."
He turned on the computer, projecting the desktop onto the big screen.
Several ga icons were visible—including Cyberpunk 2078.
"Let’s use this ga as an example," Takayuki said calmly. "Let’s see if we can improve it—if we can give it a complete makeover."
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