Outsiders, of course, had no way of learning any real news about Final Fantasy VII from Gastar Electronic Entertainnt.
The project had already been classified as top secret. No one was allowed to leak even a hint until the official CG teaser was released.
At this stage, the general public still believed it was just a side project—perhaps a stage play, a novel, or a film—to give fans so emotional closure.
But they had no idea what kind of bombshell was really about to drop.
Gastar's PR departnt had quickly coordinated a unified response: the Easter egg was not officially acknowledged, and any further information would be released at a later date.
At the sa ti, the company cleverly shifted public attention by officially unveiling two new governnt-partnered ga projects.
One was a fictional, high-difficulty ga set in the Warring States period of Japan. The other was based on a different piece of ancient folklore. Details? Wait for the big reveal at the upcoming Gastar Carnival.
As for Cyberpunk 2077—it was an even more massive undertaking than the Final Fantasy VII remake.
While the FF7 remake had largely been handed off to Division Five, with Takayuki stepping in only for key creative decisions, Cyberpunk 2077 was a project he was personally overseeing from top to bottom.
It was a chance to make up for past regrets. He couldn't possibly hand it off.
It was also the ultimate test of his twenty years in ga developnt. rely porting great gas from his past world wasn't enough—he wanted to take things to the next level.
And just like that, the 2014 Gastar Carnival arrived.
At the sa ti, the Gastar World Cup officially kicked off.
Previously, Gastar's various esports events had been separate and regional, but now a dedicated team had co together to launch a unified global tournant. Its dia coverage and impact were on par with the Super Bowl.
The regional qualifiers had already been held in the largest stadiums around the world. Winning teams from those events had beco global esports stars.
In Japan, the Tokyo city governnt had offered up two of its largest stadiums—completely free of charge—for the occasion.
From morning till night, the venues were packed with nonstop events: speedruns, head-to-head competitions, and more.
Esports had now truly beco a national pasti in Japan.
For the most popular titles, demand was so high that tickets were nearly impossible to get. The economic boost was significant—Tokyo officials were overjoyed.
And the biggest winner? Not the players, but Gastar Electronic Entertainnt itself.
Esports had beco the ultimate form of marketing. While making money, it also massively expanded the player base. By now, it was a guaranteed win-win business model.
Investors flocked in. So major tournant spots—like those for StarCraft—required a minimum of $10 million just to buy in. Gastar also tightly controlled slot allocation, turning the slots into a coveted, limited resource.
On stage, players were locked in intense battles. Offstage, crowds roared with excitent.
The atmosphere was electric.
Amid them all was a man wrapped tightly in a hoodie and cap, hiding his face.
No, he wasn't suffering from social anxiety or fear of touch. He just didn't want to be recognized.
His na was Myron Case.
At that mont, the finals of the Tetris event were underway.
Two players—one from the U.S. and one from Europe—were facing off in a 19-round showdown.
Myron Case had always looked down on video gas. He thought they were frivolous, a waste of ti.
Except for one title—Tetris.
He didn't know why, but he had an odd fondness for the ga.
He'd even once tried to purchase licensing rights from Gastar Electronic Entertainnt to distribute Tetris on his own branded smartphones. It would have been the first and only ga he allowed on his company's phones.
Of course, Gastar rejected the offer outright.
And after that? Their rivalry went public.
The Facebook Phone, the Switch, the latest in VR and motion-sensing gas...
Video gas constantly seed to be riding the edge of cutting-edge tech, delivering fresh experiences to users.
In contrast, the smartphone industry had beco stagnant. Once a hotbed of innovation with all kinds of bold designs and features, it had beco formulaic. Today's smartphones were nearly identical, their only real upgrade being yearly performance boosts.
Even Myron Case had to admit that Gastar Electronic Entertainnt was a technological powerhouse.
"Whoa! The U.S. player just took the match point! That's their ninth win—one more, and they'll claim victory in the first-ever World Cup Tetris finals!"
The battle on stage was heating up, but Myron's mind was still elsewhere.
"Video gas... really are magical things," he murmured to himself.
His history with the industry had always been fraught.
Now, he had no choice but to join the ga developnt race himself. At the very least, it was undeniably profitable—and people genuinely loved gas.
His own team had released a few solid products recently. They'd gained a foothold.
Of course, they were nowhere near Gastar's level.
Every ti Myron talked about "defeating" Gastar, his ga dev team looked at him like he was insane.
If Gastar were so easy to beat, it wouldn't be the undisputed king of the video ga world.
"GG! The U.S. player wins the final match! Let's give them a huge round of applause!"
Cheers erupted as the Tetris match ended. The Arican player was crowned the first official World Cup champion for the title.
There'd be prize money, of course—but more importantly, a tidal wave of attention and fa.
Myron stood from his seat and quietly exited the venue.
He glanced one last ti at the buzzing Gastar Carnival, a twinge of envy flickering in his eyes.
If only he could hold an event like this one day.
But maybe... that day wasn't far off.
His eyes sharpened.
His team had already launched several solid gas. If they kept progressing step by step...
Maybe one day, he too could stand where Takayuki stood.
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