"Breaking News! The indie ga developer known as ’Nintendo Is Damn Well the Ruler of the World’ is actually the Ga God—Takayuki!"
"A massive earthquake in the gaming industry. The undisputed absolute king."
"We’ve been fooled for so long!"
Three days after the acquisition of Mikuford’s ga division was completed, the internet and every major gaming magazine were flooded with a piece of news that shocked everyone.
"Nintendo Is Damn Well the Ruler of the World" was none other than Takayuki himself.
The number-one ga reviewer, Murakami Kazuo, froze on the spot when he saw the news.
Then, as he replayed everything that had happened in his mind, it all suddenly connected.
From the very beginning, he had been supported and nurtured by Gastar Electronic Entertainnt.
Later, when he had fallen into a slump, it was once again Gastar Electronic Entertainnt that encouraged him and helped him reclaim his position as the top ga reviewer.
Inside Gastar Electronic Entertainnt, the ga departnt exploded with shock.
The employees were stunned to discover that their president was also the world’s number-one indie ga developer.
It completely shattered their worldview.
Takayuki hadn’t just created countless famous AAA titles.
Even the later rise of indie gas was tied directly to him.
Their president could truly be described as tireless and devoted.
For the healthy developnt of the gaming industry, he was willing to create a "secondary account," start from zero, and personally cultivate it—just to show everyone that fa wasn’t what mattered most.
What mattered was ga quality.
Because of that secondary identity, countless indie developers began to rise, and more and more people gained the confidence to develop gas without obsessing over costs.
As long as you made sothing, there was a chance it would succeed.
To players around the world, the news was nothing short of shocking.
At the sa ti, their admiration for Takayuki reached an entirely new peak.
He didn’t just rely on massive resources to build a vast gaming empire.
He also proved, single-handedly, that the gaming industry could thrive through diversity.
Takayuki himself was the most vivid example.
Of course, while players rejoiced, others felt very differently.
Hayakawa Ueto stared blankly at the news when he saw it that morning.
Just days earlier, he had treated Nintendo as a new hypothetical enemy—a potentially terrifying future rival.
Even his long-held "second place" status had seed at risk.
But in the blink of an eye, Nintendo had effectively beco part of Gastar Electronic Entertainnt.
Well... not technically a subsidiary. It was still independently operated.
But deeply bound together—close enough to be considered one entity.
After finishing the article, Hayakawa Ueto actually felt relieved.
His second-place position was safe.
Crisis averted.
As for Nintendo’s future influence—did that even need to be said?
Of course it would be enormous. But no matter how strong it beca, it was still Gastar Electronic Entertainnt.
That kind of strength was only natural.
At Brown Entertainnt, Hack Brown’s reaction was muted.
He didn’t really care how the gaming industry evolved.
He focused only on his own slice of land; what other companies did wasn’t his concern.
Still, he couldn’t help but admire how well Takayuki had hidden his identity.
That secondary account had existed for at least a decade, yet no one had ever discovered the truth.
Looking back now, there were plenty of clues linking that account to Gastar Electronic Entertainnt.
But until the reveal, no one had connected the dots.
Nibongi, Kaneda Entertainnt, and what little remained of YOO...
People at those companies mostly felt it was only natural.
Of course the top indie developer could be Takayuki.
That actually made more sense.
After all—he had already beco a god.
Bob from Facebook could only exclaim, "Damn."
From start to finish, he hadn’t seen any connection between the two identities.
His boss had hidden it far too well, and Bob’s admiration for Takayuki only grew stronger.
He was Takayuki’s most loyal follower—loyalty that only deepened over ti.
At this point, if Takayuki told Bob he planned to conquer the heavens and the underworld, Bob wouldn’t doubt it for a second.
Across the world, nearly everyone reacted with shock, admiration, or reverence.
Except for one company.
And one man.
Myron Keyes.
From the very beginning, he had been played.
Played completely.
Why?
Why did soone like Takayuki have to exist in this world?
He was absolutely certain—if Takayuki hadn’t existed, his career would have gone far more smoothly.
With Takayuki around, Facebook—originally a social software company—suddenly jumped into smartphones.
With Takayuki around, he had been pushed out early by Red Fruit Company.
With Takayuki around, Morgan Group chased him relentlessly, ddling at every turn.
Whatever he built, Morgan Group imdiately followed.
When Facebook didn’t enter the tablet market, Morgan Group did.
With their massive capital reserves, they never lacked manpower—and their products were inevitably better than his.
After digging deeper, he discovered Takayuki’s fingerprints everywhere, quietly pulling strings behind the scenes.
This man was truly his enemy for life.
And now, Takayuki had even used a secondary identity to fool him, stealing away his ga division.
It was a slap in the face—again and again.
Yet he could do nothing about it.
He regretted it.
He regretted provoking Takayuki back then.
Regretted boasting about acquiring Gastar Electronic Entertainnt.
Regretted publicly declaring that video gas had no future.
If he hadn’t done those things... maybe Takayuki wouldn’t have targeted him?
Now, his dignity was completely gone.
Even inside his own company, he could feel employees looking at him differently.
All he could do was stay calm—pretend everything was trivial, act indifferent, and try not to care.
That was the only way he could feel even slightly better.
But still—
He was furious.
Furious, and utterly helpless.
All he could do was watch events unfold.
Myron Keyes decided to avoid the news for a few days and focus entirely on overseeing the production of his latest hardware, hoping it would numb him.
But sooner or later, he had to rest.
He had to go ho.
And whether at ho or on the way there, he couldn’t escape the constant reports about Gastar Electronic Entertainnt.
The company now looked poised to control the entire board, pulling the whole gaming industry into its grasp.
With the strongest ga engine, the strongest developnt teams, and absolute confidence that whatever they built next would be celebrated—
Their position was unshakable.
To be honest, Myron Keyes was deeply envious.
The bitter kind of envy.
...Ah, well.
So be it.
Reviews
All reviews (0)