The carnival became even more personal and meaningful to players after this unexpected proposal.
If players could muster the courage to propose at such an event, what couldn't they do?
Just like what the carnival had shown the outside world—it was a festival for players. Everything was made with the players in mind.
As long as the players were happy, the carnival was a success.
Besides the unforgettable proposal, there was another major highlight on the second day: a brand-new game announcement from the company.
A three-day carnival required pacing—the big reveals couldn't all come on the first day, or the excitement would quickly die down.
The spotlight of day two belonged to Gamestar Electronic Entertainment's first female producer of a large-scale game.
Her name was Tsukino Aya.
...
...
She was one of the company's founding members, having been with Gamestar since the very beginning.
In the past, Tsukino Aya had worked on various games, but nothing on the same scale as this project.
After years of learning under Takayuki and with support from the latest engine and motion capture technology, she presented a new real-time action RPG reminiscent of The Legend of Zelda: Ocarina of Time, titled "Legend of the Moon."
The visual quality alone was on par with Final Fantasy X from Takayuki's previous world—undoubtedly among the best-looking games in the current industry.
Tsukino Aya herself was also a highly skilled developer, so the game's stability was not in question.
Additionally, it featured incredibly polished action and combat mechanics.
These detailed animations and combat systems were part of Gamestar's signature strengths.
In the trailer, the protagonist was a woman.
This marked the company's first major game featuring a female lead.
She played a character similar to an adventurer, embarking on a journey through a world of swords and magic.
While the game's structure seemed fairly traditional, its visuals stood out, and the trailer boldly claimed it had "the greatest game story ever."
The combination of presentation and marketing instantly attracted strong interest from players.
And the fact that it was created by a female lead developer was also emphasized in the announcement—clearly used as a promotional angle to broaden attention.
If it could attract even a segment of female gamers, all the better.
From the audience, Aiko and her friends—who had already formed their own game development trio—watched with excitement. They dreamed of one day creating a game of that scale themselves.
Day two of the carnival came to an end, and since it fell on a weekend, attendance rose to over 70,000.
Including spectators at the esports arena next door, the total attendance had definitely reached the 100,000 mark.
That kind of turnout was usually reserved for nationwide events. Officials in the Tokyo government were probably smiling in their sleep.
For a brief moment, Tokyo seemed to return to its bubble-era glory.
If the officials were smart, they would seize this opportunity to reinvigorate Tokyo's economy.
It might even become possible to restore the city's former brilliance.
This led the Tokyo government to throw its full weight behind promoting the carnival—even coining the phrase "Tokyo, the capital of video games."
And of course, the biggest beneficiary was none other than Takayuki.
Esports was now rising fast and had developed a solid competitive ecosystem. Other companies wanted to jump in, but none had succeeded like Gamestar Electronic Entertainment.
In gaming overall, no other company could compare to them.
On to the third and final day of the carnival.
Player enthusiasm showed no sign of fading.
Even after playing for two days straight, no one seemed tired.
Events like this were rare—being surrounded by like-minded people and immersed in this joyful environment made everyone genuinely happy.
Takayuki spared no expense for the third day's events either. Each day featured celebrity appearances, and today was no exception.
TV Tokyo also enjoyed soaring viewership, with news reports and live broadcasts both earning high ratings.
The station's executives were thrilled—they had backed the right horse.
While other media outlets had attacked Gamestar in the past, TV Tokyo had taken Takayuki's side.
Now, they were reaping the rewards—better public image, higher advertising revenue, and lots of profit.
There had been major announcements on day one and day two, so naturally, day three had one as well.
And Takayuki believed this one was no less important than Monster Hunter—perhaps even more so.
Though he wasn't deeply involved in the project, he provided the vision and the framework.
It was the announcement of a Final Fantasy VII animated film.
The Final Fantasy VII franchise had always been one of the most iconic.
In his past life, it had spawned countless spinoffs—most famously the original game, Crisis Core, and the animated movie Advent Children.
Throughout the day, players enjoyed themselves to the fullest. After three full days, they were physically exhausted but mentally energized.
When night fell, the top of the main venue was removed, revealing a clear night sky filled with stars.
"Aiko, this carnival was amazing! We have to come every year!" Hazumi said, eyes sparkling with excitement.
She was already planning to study computer science in college—and if that didn't work out, she'd go into art or music.
All fields needed in game development.
In their trio, Aiko was the clear programmer and planner, and Oto would be the creative director.
"Let's hope our game becomes a hit!"
"Yes! Let's make a hit game!"
The three girls shouted in unison.
Around them, others were also shouting out their dreams. The atmosphere was electric—everyone had forgotten life's burdens and was simply living in the moment.
Then, fireworks began to bloom across the sky.
This time, the display had a hint of finality to it.
One by one, familiar game characters who had greeted players on the first day reappeared in firework form to say goodbye.
Mario, the heroes from Dragon Quest, Link and Zelda, Cloud from Final Fantasy...
Their goodbyes reminded everyone that even this celebration would eventually end.
But over in the esports stadium, emotions were reaching a peak.
Championship matches for several games were happening at once.
A Japanese player had pushed through countless challenges to become the Street Fighter world champion.
Unlike other games, Street Fighter's prize was a wrestling-style championship belt.
The champion proudly raised the belt as the crowd cheered wildly.
Elsewhere, Need for Speed was won by a foreign player, while Street Basketball—an American specialty—was taken by a U.S. competitor.
The matches had been nail-bitingly close.
Except in StarCraft.
There, the South Korean players absolutely dominated.
They swept the gold, silver, and bronze—just like in Takayuki's previous life.
It was a game backed by national support. In South Korea, pro gamers had the status of Olympic athletes, which created an environment perfect for nurturing elite talent.
The Korean fans were ecstatic, ready to invest even more into StarCraft.
Which, of course, meant more profit for Gamestar Electronic Entertainment.
Back at the main venue, when the fireworks ended, many players slowly rose to their feet, reluctant to leave.
They knew the carnival had come to an end. It was time to return to real life.
But during these few days, they had let go of their stress, and now they could face the future with renewed strength.
Even those who had felt lost or hopeless found new courage.
Video games—even with their cheesy or fantastical plots—could be incredibly inspiring, like Japanese manga. They taught people valuable lessons.
"Cough, cough... Adventurers, scientists, warriors—are you really just going to leave like this?"
As the crowd began to leave, Takayuki's voice suddenly echoed from the speakers.
Everyone stopped in their tracks, turning toward the stage.
Takayuki appeared in the center of it once more.
"Wait—it's not over?" people murmured in confusion.
Then Takayuki spoke: "I know most of you are getting ready to leave, but I'm sure many of you are still holding onto some hopes... Waiting for something. And now, I think it's finally time to share it with you."
The crowd stirred with excitement.
"Our most anticipated surprise? What is it?"
"A new console!"
"A new Pokémon game!"
"A new Metroid!?"
People began shouting from the audience.
But none of them were guessing correctly.
Because on day one, Final Fantasy VIII had already been teased, and nobody expected another Final Fantasy title so soon.
Even though Takayuki had the manpower, it seemed unlikely he'd announce two titles from the same series at once.
Hayakawa Ueto, who was about to end his livestream, paused and frowned.
"What's he planning now?" he wondered aloud.
Takayuki always had a way of catching people off guard.
"Alright, no more teasing. I present to you the final moment of this carnival. I hope it brings you complete satisfaction."
The lights went dim.
A thin green thread appeared on the giant screen in the center of the stage.
"Wait! I remember this! This thread…"
Some sharp-eyed players looked excited but couldn't quite place it.
It looked like a lifeline.
A lifeline that had strong ties to a certain game.
"No way… Final Fantasy already has a sequel. There's no way…"
"Final Fantasy? Final Fantasy VII?! Oh my god!!"
The crowd erupted.
At least 80% of those in attendance had played Final Fantasy VII, and nearly all of them had been deeply moved by its story.
Aeris' death. The desperate survival as Meteor approached. All unforgettable.
Then, the music began to play.
"It's Final Fantasy! It's really Final Fantasy VII!"
The melody was unmistakable.
Aeris' Theme.
Gentle. Haunting. Beautiful.
Some emotional fans couldn't hold back tears.
"It's Aeris…"
The screen gradually brightened with the music.
Cloud appeared first—cooler than ever, riding a sleek new motorcycle.
In the desert, he gazed into the distance, eyes filled with emotion. Remembrance? Prayer?
The visuals had taken another leap forward—this was top-tier 3D animation.
Then the music shifted.
The ominous theme of the infamous villain—One-Winged Angel.
Sephiroth's motif.
Sephiroth, now a cult favorite, even had his own Japanese fan club—likely the first virtual character to ever achieve that.
The screen showed the epic clash between Cloud and Sephiroth.
Cloud stood serious, holding his Buster Sword, as Sephiroth descended from the heavens with his signature smirk.
The entire audience held its breath.
This was the power of the world's most iconic RPG.
Then the final logo appeared.
"Final Fantasy VII: Advent Children — Animated Film Coming Later This Year. Stay Tuned."