In fact, just from the perspective of worldbuilding alone, Cyberpunk 2077 was already on the level of a top-tier AAA ga. Unfortunately, the company that made it aid too high, and ultimately, under pressure from capital, was forced to cut corners and rush the release. That's the tragedy of any company dominated by capital interests.
The developnt team wanted to create sothing rich in detail, but they had no choice but to compromise. In a way, such a company embodied the very satire of cyberpunk itself.
But in this world, Takayuki had no such concerns.
His personal wealth gave him the freedom to make any ga he wanted, without having to answer to shareholders.
Even if pouring everything into this ga left him exhausted or even broke, it would be his decision.
At most, he might feel a little guilty toward the newspaper director who originally invested in him.
But compared to that initial investnt, the returns the director had already received were more than enough—an astronomical win.
No burdens. No one above him to dictate terms. Which ant Takayuki could go all in on whatever he wanted to create.
What he wanted... was to fix Cyberpunk 2077. To do everything it should have done, to make it whole.
Kinouchi had already been pulled into the imrsive world Takayuki created. He was completely absorbed and no longer listening to what Takayuki was saying—though to be fair, the rest no longer concerned him. As the lead on worldbuilding and main story, he and his 1,000-person team would focus entirely on constructing the foundation of this new world.
"Kita, your Third Developnt Division will be in charge of coding for Cyberpunk 2077. I want you to explore every possible chanic, every piece of gaplay you can think of. Anything that can enhance the player experience—bring it to the table. Everyone else will support your team in making this ga as rich and dynamic as possible."
Hitomi Kita was also one of the early mbers of Gastar, though she joined a bit later. Still, her leadership skills were second to none. Under her, the team had consistently delivered top-quality gaplay systems under tight deadlines. In terms of innovation, they were on par with the Tenth Developnt Division—if not beyond it.
Now, Kita held a new docunt titled "Cyberpunk 2077 – Systems & Gaplay Design Plan."
It was nearly 100 pages long, laying out key gaplay chanics in ticulous detail.
Takayuki's vision was to create a living, breathing Night City—a city bursting with content, both inside and outside, where every player could get lost in its depth.
In the original Cyberpunk 2077, this was its weakest point.
Despite its massive cityscape, it felt empty.
All players could really do was wander around, fight, steal, or take on pre-scripted quests. Most content was combat-related, with only a few scattered mini-gas—barely adding any real flavor.
But a true Night City shouldn't just be about combat. It should be brimming with aning and detail.
Even a roadside sign should exist for a reason—not just to fill up the scenery.
So in Kita's docunt, Takayuki outlined all the gaplay chanics he had wished existed in the original.
Carefully planned heist missions, where you could beco a legendary rcenary—the V of Night City, ruler of the underground.
Or... build a legitimate business empire. Buy shops. Trade stocks. Climb the economic ladder and stand shoulder-to-shoulder with the gacorps.
He envisioned a ga where players could have almost unlimited freedom in how they lived their digital lives.
In Takayuki's design, players could even start their own corporation, go toe-to-toe with the gacorps. The main storyline might depict a path of desperation, but the ga would leave room for slivers of hope—paths to a future, if the player dared to take it.
Of course, that kind of power might corrupt. The player might beco the very monster they once fought. But that's the point: it's your choice.
Takayuki wanted multiple story endings. After all, Cyberpunk 2077 had always felt unfinished to him. He wanted to finish it properly.
"P-President... isn't this a bit... too much?" Kita asked, stunned as she flipped through the hefty design doc.
This wasn't a ga.
It was a world.
One more detailed and ambitious than anything she had ever worked on.
Takayuki smiled. "Too much? Honestly, I think it's not enough."
Most of the chanics he proposed weren't even new ideas. They had already existed—in GTA V's online mode, for instance. Robbery, trading, building empires—these weren't fantasy. They were real, proven features.
Yet to Kita, it still felt overwhelming. So many features ant countless lines of code. The potential for bugs and compatibility issues alone made her scalp tingle.
But Takayuki had never expected this ga to be finished in two or three years. He had always planned for five to eight years, maybe ten.
All he wanted was a Cyberpunk 2077 that truly matched the dream in his heart.
"President... just integrating all these systems will lead to endless compatibility issues. Bugs will be a nightmare..."
Takayuki chuckled, "Perfect. I have soone who can help with that."
He clapped his hands.
The eting room door opened—and a woman stepped inside.
"Hello, everyone. It's been a while," Aya Tsukino greeted calmly.
Takayuki looked fondly at his wife.
She wasn't just his wife—she was the best programr he had ever known. To this day, no one had surpassed her.
And under her command was her entire Stanford Legion.
Gaplay complexity? Bug chaos?
Was that even a problem?
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