"Takayuki."
Tatatata.
"Hm?"
Tatatata.
On the living room sofa in Takayuki's home, he and Tsukino Aya were locked in a fierce battle.
Each of them held a controller, operating a character. Takayuki had picked Chun-Li — his favorite — while Tsukino Aya had, without hesitation, chosen Iori Yagami.
Street Fighter had recently started promoting a new mode that involved internet-based connectivity and regular online updates.
To encourage players to stay connected, they began rolling out constant updates to games like Street Fighter, Need for Speed, and Monster Hunter.
…
…
Street Fighter now featured more characters, Need for Speed added new real-world supercars, and Monster Hunter introduced new monsters to hunt.
The public response had been quite positive. Players who already had some gaming experience were more than happy to upload their game data online to track achievements, and many leaderboards now required online connections. Adding update functionality to that mix was an easy sell.
The internet had now reached nationwide high-speed access, with gigabit speeds just around the corner. Downloading these updates was effortless.
The Street Fighter version Takayuki and Tsukino Aya were playing was the latest one — updated to include some characters from The King of Fighters.
Sure, The King of Fighters was more over-the-top and fantastical than Street Fighter, but that only added to Street Fighter's appeal. It gave players who loved flashy, explosive moves a reason to get excited. The only real challenge was maintaining a balance between flashy effects and the visceral feel of real hand-to-hand combat — but so far, that balance had been handled well. Players hadn't felt any dissonance between the characters, a clear sign that the developers were doing a solid job.
"I've been keeping in touch with those three girls lately," Tsukino Aya said. "They really do want to become great game developers."
"Oh? That's a good thing."
Takayuki kept his eyes locked on the TV screen. He was just about to gain the upper hand — Chun-Li had started a flurry of combos, and Tsukino's Iori was struggling to keep up.
Every time he played Street Fighter against Tsukino Aya, Takayuki had to stay fully focused. The slightest slip-up and she might win. Tsukino had a natural gift for fighting games, and her upcoming game had a heavy fighting-game influence. That, combined with her "cool-girl dev" image, had already attracted a passionate fanbase — her support group was already formed even before the game's release.
A game dev with a fandom. Absolutely wild.
Even as Takayuki applied pressure in-game, Tsukino Aya remained calm, talking about the girls while continuing to play.
"But lately… they've been a little troubled."
Tatatata.
Despite Chun-Li's continuous attacks, Iori didn't take too much damage — a minor miscalculation in the combo. Takayuki looked slightly disappointed.
"Should've gone with that move… Wait, what? You said they're troubled?"
Clearly, Takayuki couldn't keep up with both chatting and gaming at once.
Tsukino only snorted disdainfully, didn't say another word, and her eyes turned sharp. Then, her Iori suddenly unleashed a furious, non-stop counterattack — like he had just downed some miracle energy elixir. The speed and precision were almost inhuman.
Takayuki had no time to react and was utterly defeated. As the screen flashed a giant KO, he wasn't even surprised.
Ever since Street Fighter launched, he hadn't managed to beat Tsukino Aya.
His own skills were already on par with near-pro players, honed through thousands of tokens in old-school arcades. That was no joke.
But Tsukino's talent was on another level.
"Okay, game over. Now, what were we talking about again?"
Takayuki knew she really did have something on her mind. He sat up straight, no longer goofing around, and looked at her seriously.
Tsukino seemed satisfied with his reaction — the corners of her lips lifted slightly for a split second before she continued.
"I was saying… those three girls are struggling a bit lately."
"What kind of struggle?"
"They're scared off by how expensive game development is."
"Huh? Game development costs? They haven't even graduated high school yet, and they're already thinking about making AAA games?"
Tsukino nodded."Seems that way. They think only big-budget games are popular nowadays. That small-scale indie games just don't have much of a market."
Takayuki raised an eyebrow."Says who? Haven't we made a bunch of casual games too? Sure, they weren't massive hits, but they spread through word-of-mouth, attracted non-gamers, and helped expand our market base. Who says small games can't be successful?"
Tsukino shook her head."But even now, when we make a simple game, we still need 10 to 20 people and spend at least tens of millions of yen. For three high school girls, that's just not doable — their families can't afford that kind of expense."
Takayuki nodded slowly, now understanding.
"But isn't that how most of our third-party dev studios started? From scratch — just a few passionate people building their value step by step, until they became amazing developers. Nobody starts out making blockbusters."
"That's true. But I think, for those three, the fear is more instinctual than logical. It's not just about the cost — it's the psychological barrier."
When the girls visited Gamestar Electronic Entertainment, Takayuki had already told them not to overreach. All they needed was to start small — with simple, casual "4399-style" games — and work their way up gradually. That's how everyone started. Gaining experience step by step.
But now… the game industry in this world seemed to have become a little distorted.
At that moment, Takayuki remembered something.
Lately, game companies, business media, and industry insiders were always talking about AAA blockbusters. Every company was bragging about their massive high-budget titles — with base budgets in the tens of millions of dollars. Meanwhile, the small, passionate indie games that once drew attention with just a few creators were gradually being pushed out of the spotlight.