Resident Evil's first-week sales didn't come as much of a surprise to Takayuki — it sold just over 300,000 copies.
Even with Takayuki's name attached as the producer, most people still kept their distance from the so-called horror-thriller genre.
However, the development difficulty and cost of Resident Evil 1 had been relatively low from the start. Even if the series only managed to break even, or even lost a little money at first, Takayuki wasn't bothered. Just like Monster Hunter, Resident Evil was the kind of franchise that would slowly build its reputation over several entries — until one day, it exploded in popularity.
This kind of success couldn't be rushed. Takayuki's name alone no longer needed to prove anything through a single game. If something is gold, it will shine eventually.
Rather than watching sales numbers, Takayuki turned his attention to player discussions in the community. He wanted to see whether the game could generate heated conversation.
"Aiko… are we really going to play this game? I'm kinda scared…"
At Aiko's home, where the three girls were preparing for their next game development planning meeting, Aiko pulled out a freshly purchased copy of Resident Evil.
Raising the disc in her hand, Aiko declared, "This is a game personally produced by Takayuki. If we're talking about whose games are most worth studying, his come first — no question. So we have to play this."
Aiko had always been a girl with clear intentions behind everything she did.
...
...
The three of them had been close friends since childhood. And back then, they had promised to always be there for one another — to stick together no matter what, to move forward and retreat as one.
Now, they each had a clear goal for the future: to become game developers. After witnessing firsthand how Takayuki could create outstanding games all by himself, Aiko was more determined than ever.
She wanted to become someone like him. And to do that, she needed to play through every single game he had ever made.
Kazumi was still scared, though.
And in her heart, she had cursed Takayuki at least a dozen times.
I used to admire you so much! And now you make a game this terrifying? What am I supposed to do? You jerk!
Whether Takayuki actually sneezed from being cursed was unknown, but for Kazumi, it at least helped her vent her fear.
Ne-chan, on the other hand, was already impatient.
"Put the disc in already! Let's try to beat it tonight!"
"T-tonight? You two want to play until tonight?!" Kazumi cried.
Ne-chan shrugged. "What else? Unless… Kazumi, are you too scared? You could always leave."
Kazumi stiffened her neck. "No way! We said we'd stick together! Don't even think about ditching me!"
"Idiot, I'm not trying to ditch you. I'm worried about you, you coward. What if you get so scared something bad happens? Who's gonna do the art for our game then?"
Among the three, Kazumi was definitely the best artist. Though she'd never had formal training, she could still sketch what she imagined with decent accuracy. She had raw talent.
Ne-chan knew some basics and could copy stuff pretty well, but she wasn't as good as Kazumi.
As for Aiko — art was definitely not her thing. Nor was music. But what she lacked in those areas, she made up for with her brilliant mind. She was the core strategist of the team.
With Aiko in charge, the trio could stay united and push forward together.
Breaking up their banter, Aiko said, "Alright, Kazumi — if you're scared, you can sit a little farther away. But I still think we should study this game together."
As she spoke, she slipped the disc into the GS1 console, and the Resident Evil logo appeared onscreen.
Kazumi obediently scooted back a bit — increasing her distance to hopefully lessen the impact of the jump scares.
Resident Evil 1 had a total size of about 2 GB, several times larger than previous games. It had completely done away with the clunky old camera and control schemes, replacing them with a true third-person over-the-shoulder view.
In terms of graphics, it was definitely among the top tier of what Gamestar Electronic Entertainment had to offer.
This pushed the horror atmosphere to an entirely new level.
The game opened with a CG cutscene introducing the world setting.
The visual quality of the CG was on par with the Final Fantasy movie.
Aiko was envious. When will I ever be able to develop a game that looks like this?
Maybe in a few years… or maybe never.
Meanwhile, Ne-chan started focusing on the game's music. Though she didn't say it, she was also feeling nervous. So she shifted her attention elsewhere to distract herself.
Gamestar now had its own dedicated audio team, and some of its members were well-known in the music scene, so the game's soundtrack was nothing short of professional.
Even in just the opening CG, the music contributed at least 30% of the horror effect. It built the mood perfectly.
"Hey, remember when Miss Ayano Tsukino said she'd invite us to tour the company again? She said if we're interested, we can apply for internships at Gamestar after we start college next year!"
"Ah!"
"Ah!"
"Ah!"
Three loud gasps rang out in unison.
Aiko glared at her friends, frustrated. "What are you yelling for? You scared me!"
Kazumi clutched her chest. "You're seriously asking? You nearly gave me a heart attack! Why'd you suddenly talk like that?!"
Ne-chan didn't say anything, but her sulky eyes said it all.
Aiko blinked, a little embarrassed. "I was just trying to ease the tension… You both looked super nervous."
Ne-chan fired back a rapid denial: "I wasn't. I'm not. You're wrong."
Kazumi, however, was more honest. "Aiko, if you do that again, I'm leaving!"
"Okay, okay, I get it. I won't do it again. Let's just play already."
As the three continued bickering and teasing, the game's cutscene had already finished, and the main menu screen was now slowly appearing.
At the same time, across the ocean in America, a horror-loving gamer named Hubert was also sliding his Resident Evil disc into his GS1 console.
Unlike the trio, he didn't have any close friends to play with. But he didn't mind.
He was into horror games and horror movies — niche interests that made most people avoid him altogether.
He didn't care about others' judgment. He was perfectly content living in his own world.