Sotis, all it takes is one ga to ignite players' passion.
At the venue, the area selling ga-related rchandise and products was suddenly packed during the evening.
Thanks to the announcent of the Final Fantasy VII Remake, the official store at the carnival sold out of all FFVII rchandise within just a few minutes.
It was as if players, unable to imdiately get the ga, turned their frustration into a shopping spree.
Even a Tifa mini-figure keychain priced at 5,000 yen was snatched up like hotcakes.
Despite only costing around 500-600 yen to produce, people were more than willing to pay the price — almost like handing over free money.
And before that, a new concept trailer had been shown after the FFVII Remake announcent.
It was just a concept trailer, with not even a title attached.
...
...
That concept trailer was for Takayuki's long-term vision project: Cyberpunk 2077.
This was the sa video as the first teaser in the original world.
The teaser featured a beautiful woman with mantis blades extending from her forearms — the chanical enhancents rendered with stunning CGI. One shot showed bullets grazing her face, sending off a shower of sparks.
There wasn't much information, and without a ga title, most people assud it was simply a tech demo for Unreal Engine.
So players were amazed by the visuals, while industry insiders nodded in appreciation.
That was exactly the effect Takayuki wanted — to give a glimpse of the ga's concept without revealing too much. A proper showing would have to wait at least two years.
As a fellow gar, Takayuki didn't want to put others through the painful wait he himself had once endured.
This year's Gastar Carnival was packed with content.
From the beginning — with multiple Surisoft titles coming to PC — to the grand reveal of the FFVII Remake, every announcent was a highlight.
Myron Case couldn't understand it.
He had heard of Final Fantasy VII's legendary status.
But how could a ga that already existed, simply remade with new technology, capture so much attention again?
If the sa were done in the film industry, it would be called a lazy cash grab — no matter the technology.
People usually prefer the classics.
But with gas, things were different.
Players embraced remakes, especially older ones. The older the ga, the more excited longti fans beca about seeing it remade.
Myron could only curse himself for not having a classic of his own.
If he had sothing like that, he could rake in cash every few years with a remake.
Inspired by the FFVII Remake, Harukawa Ueto quickly ordered his team to research remakes of older titles — starting with Sun Knight.
Even if it didn't get as much attention as FFVII, analysts believed a remake would still be warmly received by players.
Veterans often wanted to experience their favorite old gas with new technology — not only for nostalgia, but to feel the leap of ti through a single title.
With this conclusion, Harukawa wasted no ti initiating the remake project.
This kind of money-making opportunity couldn't be missed.
anwhile, after the carnival ended, Myron returned to his team as if preparing for war, imdiately ordering developnt of a big-budget ga — one with at least a $100 million investnt.
At the carnival, he had truly witnessed the power of IP.
He now wanted to create one of his own.
Even sothing on the level of Sun Knight would be fine.
His company, Mickford, seed to have paused hardware developnt for now, shifting focus to operating systems and gas — hoping to win over players.
Gars were often the trendsetters of consur electronics. Winning their favor was key.
At the sa ti, Myron actively began courting small and dium-sized ga developers.
These studios weren't locked into partnerships with Gastar or Surisoft. With enough money, they could be persuaded to release gas on his platform.
Later that year, Mickford launched a unique subscription gaming service.
It was inspired by Facebook's video subscription model.
On one hand, Mickford would subsidize developers who joined. On the other, early-stage revenue would be fully shared with participating studios.
With enough money, market share was always up for grabs.
And being a U.S.-based company gave Mickford a huge advantage.
If Gastar tried the sa thing, they'd be hit with dumping investigations by Congress.
But Mickford? As a dostic firm, they'd be supported — unless they truly beca a monopoly.
Seeing Mickford's move surprised Takayuki.
He hadn't expected them to take the lead.
He had planned to introduce his own subscription service once Gastar's mbership program was stable.
Gas going the subscription route was inevitable. Mickford, perhaps under pressure, had stumbled into a viable developnt path.
Still, the impact wasn't imdiate.
Players were still conditioned to believe that great gas should be purchased outright.
Free access to high-quality titles wasn't the norm — yet.
As Mickford kept experinting, Gastar remained focused.
They quietly continued developing their key titles.
Of course, in the anti, they did release a few smaller but still aningful gas.
"Takayuki, this is the ga you're working on? I never thought you were that kind of person."
One day, Eri Sawazawa, face slightly red, stord into Takayuki's office with a file. She slapped it down on his desk.
Takayuki, busy overseeing the FFVII Remake, glanced at the file with a calm expression.
"So what? Gas are ant to be fun. Making sothing like this just ans we're giving players what they want."
"What kind of players want this?" Eri huffed in disbelief.
On the cover of that file, the ga's title was written in bold:
Dead or Alive: Beach Volleyball.
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