Video Game Tycoon in Tokyo-Chapter 734: Impossible, Absolutely Impossible

January 2008.

In the chilly early days of the new year, a weekly game development lecture was underway in a hall about five kilometers from the headquarters of Gamestar Electronic Entertainment.

This content is taken from fгee𝑤ebɳoveɭ.cøm.

This lecture series was organized by Gamestar itself, and each week featured participation from their core development staff. Occasionally, well-known producers from other companies would guest lecture as well. But more often, game industry professionals came just to attend — including some notable developers from Japan and abroad.

The reason was simple: the content was pure gold. Whenever developers found themselves stuck in creative limbo, coming to this lecture almost always opened their minds to new ideas.

It had also become a key networking hub for industry pros. If you were thinking about changing jobs, making a name for yourself at this lecture was one of the best ways to do it.

Oda Atsushi had already graduated and managed to land a job at a game development studio.

His dream had always been to join Gamestar Electronic Entertainment one day. But nowadays, competition to get into Gamestar was unimaginably fierce. Unless you were selected through a special campus recruitment initiative, it was nearly impossible to break in without an exceptional résumé.

...

Still, Atsushi was pretty satisfied with where he'd landed. He'd grown up playing games, and now he was helping make them — dream fulfilled.

That said, the projects he was working on were still relatively small. Maybe just slightly larger in scope than the indie games made by Aiko and her two friends — and honestly, Atsushi couldn't help but envy them.

He was truly impressed by their success in game development and wished he could one day have that kind of breakthrough himself.

As he mulled it over, he entered the lecture hall and found a random seat.

The moment he sat down, the guy next to him turned and greeted him. "Hey there, you look pretty young. Just graduated?"

The man looked to be in his early thirties, with Western features — nothing particularly distinctive about his appearance. But his Japanese was impressively fluent, clearly the result of serious study.

After all, Japanese fluency was mandatory for attending this course. There was even a saying going around:"If you want to become a top-tier game developer, learning Japanese is step one."

Only with Japanese fluency could you participate in the live classes, ask instructors questions directly, and truly benefit from the content. Watching the recorded, subtitled versions online just wasn't the same.

Especially in a field like game development, where natural talent played a huge role, being there in person was critical.

Seeing the man being friendly, Atsushi nodded. "Yeah, I graduated a year or two ago. I'm working at a game studio now."

"I'm Meyer," the man replied, extending his hand. "Just got into the game dev field myself. First time attending one of these lectures. Hope we can chat more in the future."

Atsushi shook his hand politely and smiled. "Atsushi. Nice to meet you."

"By the way, do you have notes from any of the previous sessions? I'd really love to study them."

"I do. Let me grab them for you."

Atsushi turned and started rummaging through his backpack.

Meyer kept chatting casually. "So, how many of these sessions have you attended?"

"Been coming for a few years now," Atsushi replied. "But I'm a bit slow on the uptake. A lot of people walk out of these lectures inspired and ready to make great games — me, not so much. If only game dev had clear formulas like math..."

He sighed and handed over his notebook. "Here you go."

"Wow, thanks a ton!" Meyer took the notes eagerly, flipping through them like they were sacred texts. But he kept the conversation going.

"You've been coming for years? That's pretty amazing."

Atsushi shook his head. "Not really. Even after all this time, my progress is still so-so."

His mind wandered again to Aiko and the other two girls. He and Aiko had once been childhood friends, but now the gap between them felt huge.

It wasn't about romantic feelings anymore — maybe it once had been — but these days, it was more about admiration. He was proud of her. She had achieved something real.

Back in school, Atsushi had always struggled — not just from laziness, but a genuine lack of natural ability.

Meyer gave him a light pat on the shoulder. "Hey, don't lose heart. Hard work pays off."

Then he asked, "So you've heard a lot of different instructors speak, right? Who do you think was the best? The one who inspired you most?"

"Oh, that's easy. The God of Games — Takayuki!" Atsushi said without hesitation. "He's the absolute No.1 in the industry. Listening to him is on another level."

"Oh yeah, I've heard of Takayuki," Meyer nodded. "Is he really that good? I thought he was just a company boss."

Atsushi shook his head firmly. "He's so much more than just a CEO. Without him, the game industry wouldn't be where it is today. He is the industry."

His eyes sparkled with genuine admiration — like a believer talking about their god.

Atsushi had even heard rumors of some developers setting up little home altars with Takayuki's portrait, praying for divine bursts of creative inspiration.

Meyer looked amazed. "Wow... so if I ever get to attend one of his lectures, I might go from zero to hero overnight?"

Clearly new to the program, Meyer didn't realize how rare that was.

Atsushi chuckled, half joking. "If Takayuki really gives a lecture, yeah, it might change your life. But he only teaches maybe once every three or four years. What do you think the odds are of catching him today?"

"Aww, seriously?" Meyer sounded disappointed.

"He's incredibly busy," Atsushi said. "Just from what I know, he's leading the development of at least four major titles right now. There's no way he'd..."

Just then, the clock struck 9:00 a.m. The lecture was about to begin.

And right on cue, the instructor stepped onto the stage.

The moment they saw who it was, Atsushi froze mid-sentence.

Ta... Ta... Taka—?!