In fact, aside from Surei Electronics, several other large and established game companies also couldn't quite understand Gamestar Entertainment's latest move.
Guiding players on how to develop new gameplay mechanics, having players essentially work for free to create new mods—it all sounded a bit far-fetched. Why would players be willing to make mods for you?
How many people would genuinely put effort into something with no material benefit?
Although Takayuki was already one of the industry's top figures, there was still some skepticism around this decision.
At least from a market perspective, this Creative Workshop seemed meaningless.
In reality, when the Creative Workshop first launched, it didn't appear to gain much attention from players.
Most Battle.net users were esports players, with their main focus being on StarCraft and Counter-Strike's online matches.
Among Battle.net's user base, only about 20% of players played other games.
...
However, the zombie mod mode based on Counter-Strike did manage to catch some players' attention.
The mode lacked any real competitive elements, was highly random, and each match usually lasted only three to five minutes—making it perfect for casual play after a few intense rounds of competitive games.
Not many people realized that this mode had been created using the Creative Workshop modding tools.
But once the player base reached a certain size, it was inevitable that someone would notice the Workshop.
Kazumi was one of them.
After she and her friends finalized the direction for their next game, Kazumi couldn't resist jumping into the modding section of Counter-Strike.
To make it easier for players to use the Creative Workshop, the modding function had been deeply integrated with Counter-Strike.
Players could directly modify or add new rules within the Creative Workshop, then load the new content into the game.
With the process for making mods simplified to the extreme, even someone like Kazumi—who wasn't good at programming—could create her own gameplay.
"Hmph, just watch. I'll prove to you that my direction is the right one!"
With that thought in mind, Kazumi began editing Counter-Strike through the Creative Workshop backend.
First, she changed the game's perspective to a top-down view.
Then she pulled in some models from the zombie mod, added a few new elements, and created a simple new gameplay mode.
It was quite similar to the game she and her friends had previously made, Farm Defense, except this time the enemies weren't monsters—they were endless waves of zombies.
Since On-chan had absolutely refused to include farming in her own game project, Kazumi decided to build her own version from scratch.
She wasn't an all-rounder, so she had to rely on this user-friendly modding format to realize her ideas.
After about two or three days, her mod started to take shape.
Without needing to worry about art, audio, or even much programming, development became incredibly smooth. Kazumi immediately fell in love with this kind of modding.
Then, she uploaded her newly finished mod to the Creative Workshop.
"I bet I'm the first person to upload something to the Workshop," she thought proudly.
She figured not many people would be interested in the Workshop anyway—it was probably just something Battle.net was testing out without expecting much from it.
Kazumi didn't think many others would share her idea.
But when she refreshed the Workshop page after uploading her mod, she found that two or three unofficial mods had already appeared.
"Huh? That fast?"
She was surprised. There were actually a few others thinking the same way?
No, not just a few. These were just the ones uploaded in the past few days—surely there'd be more soon.
Curious, she clicked into one of the mods.
It was a weapon-modification mod, where some of Counter-Strike's weapons had been remodeled and rebalanced. The normally serious-looking weapons now looked hilariously ridiculous. For example, an MP5 submachine gun had been turned into a BB gun model that was no bigger than a palm.
Kazumi snorted with laughter.
"Is this seriously a mod? It's so ridiculous."
But it was kind of fun. Out of curiosity, she clicked into the mod's main page.
The creator seemed to be a dedicated Counter-Strike fan—the page was filled with achievements from the game. The mod creator also left a message inviting players to join a specific online server where they could freely use all kinds of bizarre, funny weapons with no restrictions.
Kazumi downloaded and installed the mod, then launched Counter-Strike and entered the room code provided.
She quickly found herself in a custom modded map—a massive mash-up of several Counter-Strike maps combined into one huge arena. The player cap had also been increased from the original 32 to 256.
The result? Absolute chaos.
The moment she entered, she was met with loud, chaotic shouting.
Someone with an open mic was yelling at the top of their lungs:
"Don't run, you bastard! I'm gonna take you down!"
"Hey, why is this chicken gun so trash? All it does is lay eggs—wait, those eggs explode?! HAHAHA! Who came up with this crazy idea? I'm dying! Is this really the same Counter-Strike I used to play?!"
"Hey, you on the other side—come over here and help me test this new weapon model I just made!"
Kazumi stared at the screen, stunned.
The players in the room were running around like wild animals, blasting each other with the most absurd weapons imaginable.
And not just the weapons—everyone looked totally different.
Some players were zombies, some were chickens, and others looked like robots. No two looked alike.
It felt more like a wild party than a shooter.
And surprisingly… it was kind of awesome.