Takayuki wasn't just good at making games—Gamestar Electronic Entertainment's internet tech was also incredibly strong.
Their excellence in game development made people overlook how advanced they were in the internet field.
In one of the most prominent display windows of Gamestar Electronic Entertainment's headquarters, there was a clearly visible plaque written entirely in English.
The content on the plaque read:
'Long-term Partner of Stanford University Computer Science Department'
'Advisor to Stanford Theoretical Group Lab (Algorithmic Game Theory)'
'Advisor to Stanford Infolab (Database and Network Analysis)'
This was proof of the long-term partnership established between Gamestar Electronic Entertainment and Stanford University about three to four years ago.
...
Because Takayuki's pioneering leadership in the game industry was so remarkable, even a world-class institution like Stanford University seemed eager to associate with his fame.
Especially with the growing popularity of video games, Takayuki became even more of a hot name.
So Stanford University, through Aya Tsukino and several top programmers already working at Gamestar Electronic Entertainment, got in contact with Takayuki and invited him to become an honorary professor at the university.
The title itself wasn't the important part—what mattered was that Stanford could use it to launch a brand-new program, and with Takayuki's name attached, they wouldn't have to worry about attracting waves of students interested in game development.
Takayuki would also visit Stanford once every six months to give lectures on whatever topic he liked—there were no restrictions.
Of course, the collaboration was about mutual benefit. Stanford's Computer Science Department would also provide support in computing to Gamestar Electronic Entertainment, and excellent students interested in the company could get recommendation letters and receive extra consideration.
So far, the partnership had gone very smoothly. Stanford gained more students, and Takayuki's influence was staggering. One genius, reported on multiple times around the world, chose to attend Stanford purely because Takayuki was an honorary professor there. It boosted Stanford's reputation and gave them bragging rights among other top-tier schools.
Meanwhile, Takayuki gained access to a steady stream of Stanford Computer Science graduates. Many of them had grown up playing Gamestar Electronic Entertainment's games, and after hearing about the company's generous salaries and benefits, they were more than happy to join as their first job—providing Takayuki with a constant flow of elite workers.
On top of that, Stanford also shared many of its still-in-testing but nearly complete computing research projects with Takayuki. These included advanced research on game engines (Stanford received a free Unreal Engine license from Takayuki), and the latest developments in internet platform construction, maintenance, and cybersecurity—all provided to Takayuki at no cost.
YOO's portal site employees weren't lacking in technical skill.
It was just that Gamestar Electronic Entertainment's hidden level in computing and internet infrastructure was way too high. Since the company never advertised this, no one really noticed.
So Nagao Ame and his team ran headfirst into a wall.
First, Nagao's team secretly prepared to breach Gamestar Electronic Entertainment's servers and steal information.
Next, their attempt was immediately detected. And coincidentally, it was daytime in the US. Some Stanford-grad programmers at Gamestar's American branch were the first to notice something was wrong. They quickly began reinforcing the Japanese servers remotely and reported the incident up the chain.
Meanwhile, Nagao Ame and his team were completely in the dark.
They were still stunned by how Gamestar Electronic Entertainment could be so strong on the tech side—their intrusion had made no headway at all.
"President, we're in a bit of danger. If we keep this up, we might get traced."
Nagao's expression darkened even more. It was like bad luck was chasing him today. Why the hell was Gamestar so strong in cyber defense?
Was Gamestar some kind of secret government military project? Even if it were, their internet defenses probably wouldn't be much stronger than this.
Finally, he clenched his teeth and said, "Launch a DDoS attack!"
Sometimes the most brute-force methods are the most effective—but resorting to something this crude was an admission that they couldn't win head-to-head. So they had to stoop to dirty tricks.
DDoS attacks are a common cyber tactic. The goal is to flood a server with fake access requests, overloading it and causing delays or even crashes. It's like sending hundreds of people to sit in a restaurant without ordering anything, just to crowd out real customers.
Of course, a DDoS attack alone can't steal any data. Nagao was hoping to use it to distract Gamestar Electronic Entertainment and then try other ways to steal data.
In the digital realm, this was now an intense war. Nagao Ame was the aggressor, using every underhanded tactic available. The defenders were Gamestar Electronic Entertainment. While caught off guard at first, their raw strength meant they could hold their ground.
Yet back at Gamestar's Japan headquarters, it all seemed calm.
Seven night shift employees were still gaming together. Another had just left the lounge to head back to his desk for a rest.
Of course, he remembered to check on the servers first.
"Hmm… everything looks fine."
No alerts from the servers. No messages about overload. It was like Nagao's attack had never even happened.
But even if the night shift employees had known about the attack, they probably couldn't have done much. They were game devs—fine for night duty, but not cybersecurity experts.
After a quick check confirming the servers were stable, he stretched and headed to his desk to rest. The invisible war raged on, but it didn't affect his good mood. He was already thinking about whether to grab a coworker and play another game once he woke up.