[Game] Chapter 370-375

### Chapter 370: Farewell

Sunday—time for Umiko to depart for China.

Everyone drove together to the airport.

Walking beside Umiko, Ichin explained the things waiting for her once she arrived.

“The studio has already arranged someone to pick you up. The person in charge will be waiting at the arrivals gate and will drive you straight to your apartment. You don’t need to rush to the studio in the first couple of days—just get used to life over there first. Titanfall’s development hasn’t officially started yet; they’re still recruiting. Once you’ve settled in, then go and blend in with the studio members.”

Umiko nodded. “Mm, I know. Honestly, I’m really looking forward to it now—to my new life in Shanghai.”

“Good. You should look forward to it, it’ll definitely be interesting.”

Before moving into the dorms, Umiko had always rented and lived alone, so living by herself was never a problem. Plus, she wasn’t picky with food—whether cooking for herself or eating out, she would definitely live comfortably in Shanghai.

“That’s right, that’s right.”

Utaha, standing beside Ichin, added, “You don’t need to worry about the modern conveniences there. In fact, there’s one thing Japan just can’t compare to—the food delivery industry is insanely advanced. In Tokyo, even though some places have started using apps, most of the time you still have to call. But in China, all you need is a phone. You can order food, buy snacks, even daily necessities—and you don’t even need to bring your wallet when going out.”

Back when Utaha had gone with Ichin to celebrate the New Year in China, she had experienced all of this firsthand. Especially shopping—no need for cash, just pay directly with your phone. It was simply too convenient. After coming back to Tokyo, she felt really unaccustomed. Though more stores were slowly supporting mobile payments here, it was still just a small portion.

(T/N: Well, India is doing this too through UPI, as well as other Apps for mundane things like groceries, snacks, food-You name it! And there are some other countries too)

Aoba chimed in excitedly, “That’s right, that’s right! Food delivery there is amazing! When we traveled together before, I was shocked by how convenient it was! And not just meals—you can even order snacks or household goods!”

The way the conversation was going, it was starting to sound like a delivery-service fan meeting.

Umiko checked the time for her flight and smiled. “It’s about time. I should head in. You don’t need to send me further.”

As soon as she said that, everyone fell into silence.

Seeing their reactions, Umiko chuckled, patting Aoba on the head. “Don’t look so gloomy. It’s not like I’m never coming back. If development progresses smoothly, I’ll definitely return once every half month to a month. And during long holidays, you all can come over too. By now, I’m sure everyone has some savings—after all, the company’s benefits are pretty great.”

She was right. With the generous benefits, even someone like Shinoda, who usually spent money recklessly, had managed to save up a bit. Traveling together on holidays was entirely possible.

Finally, Umiko hugged each of them one by one.

When she reached Sakura Nene, who already had tears welling in her eyes, Umiko gently patted her head with a smile.

“From here on, you’ll be in charge of programming for one of the development groups. Work hard. I’ll check your progress whenever I have time.”

Nene nodded vigorously and hugged her tightly.

After saying her goodbyes, Umiko disappeared into the security gate.

As her figure faded away, Ichin turned to everyone. “Alright, let’s head back. Once Umiko settles in tonight, we can still video call her.”

Yagami Kou sighed. “What you said is true, but after working with Umiko for so long, it’s hard to get used to her suddenly leaving for a business trip.”

Even Hifumi, usually the quiet one, nodded softly. “It feels like things will get a little dull.”

When Umiko was around, something funny always happened—like Kou or Hazuki accidentally angering her, and Umiko pulling out her model gun to fire a few rubber bullets at their foreheads. With her gone, such scenes would be rare for a while.

Walking next to Hifumi, Aoba smiled. “Sure, it’ll be a bit dull, but Umiko’s doing this so she can work on the game she loves, right? We’re all working hard toward our own goals too!”

Hearing Aoba’s words, Hifumi finally smiled faintly and nodded. “Mm, we’ll all work hard.”

Leaving the airport, everyone went their separate ways—it was Sunday, and they had come out specifically to see Umiko off.

In the parking lot, Ichin opened the car door and looked at Aoba, Nene, and Hifumi. “So, what’s your plan for today? Should I drop each of you off at home, or?”

The three glanced at each other before Aoba answered, “Ichin-kun, could you drop us off at my place? We’ll take the day off and play some games together!”

“Sure, hop in.”

Utaha sat in the front passenger seat while the three girls sat in the back. Since all three were on the slimmer side, it wasn’t cramped at all.

After dropping them off, Ichin and Utaha returned home.

Peppa, who they had brought back on Friday, was now back in its old home. But being alone again, the little cat seemed somewhat unsettled.

Watching Peppa’s reaction, Utaha thought for a moment before saying, “Ichin, what do you think—should we adopt another cat? Yukino’s keeping the other two kittens herself, so it wouldn’t be right to ask her again. But maybe we could adopt another one about the same age as Peppa, so it has a companion.”

“Another one, huh?”

Ichin glanced at the lazy Peppa sprawled on the cat tree and nodded. “Sure, why not? How about this afternoon?”

“Deal!”

They had barely returned home, and already an afternoon plan was set.

After lunch, they brought Peppa downstairs and headed toward the dorms.

Even though Umiko was on a business trip, her room remained. And the last vacant room had already been reserved by Momiji and Tsubame, both planning to graduate early, just like Nene.

“Kou, Utaha and I are heading to the stray animal shelter. We’re thinking of adopting another cat. Wanna come?”

“Huh? Another one?” Kou looked at them with surprise. “And Yukino’s keeping the other two herself?”

“Mm, she already decided. So Utaha and I figured we’d adopt one around Peppa’s age, to keep it company. This time, we’ll get a male, so we can neuter them both together.”

“Tsk, tsk, tsk. A playmate for Peppa, huh?” Kou chuckled. “We’ll pass—we’re planning to visit Yukino later to see her kittens.”

“Alright then, we’ll be off.”

***

### Chapter 371: The Second Cat at Home

Adopting their second cat went smoothly. After looking around for a while—and with Peppa helping test the compatibility between cats—they quickly found a suitable British Shorthair, gray and white in color, less than a year old.

This little one wasn’t afraid of Peppa at all, nor did it hiss or fight. It also showed no fear toward Ichin and Utaha.

After learning more about it, the two decided on the spot and completed the adoption procedures.

Since the shelter staff already knew Ichin and Utaha, the paperwork was quick. In less than an hour, they had a new family member.

Placing the carrier with the little Brit Shorthair beside Peppa’s carrier in the backseat, the two prepared to head home.

“Ichin,” Utaha said as she buckled her seatbelt and looked at him, “what should we name this new family member?”

“A name, huh?” Ichin started the car and thought for a moment. “The first one is called Peppa, so why don’t we name this one George?”

“You really are going all-in with Peppa Pig, aren’t you?”

Ichin laughed. “Hahaha, isn’t it kind of fun? Or do you want to come up with the name, Utaha?”

“Hmm~~~” Utaha stopped talking, leaning back in the passenger seat and thinking.

The car moved forward, turned twice, and stopped at a red light. She finally frowned and said, “I can’t come up with anything suitable on short notice.”

Naming was always the hardest part for her when writing novels. Whether it was the protagonists of Love Metronome or the new book’s cast, even the side characters’ names took her forever to settle on. With just the short drive home, it was impossible for her to think of a good one.

In the end, she agreed with Ichin. Their second cat would be called George.

Sigh… hopefully that name wouldn’t doom this little guy to grow as chubby as Peppa.

At home, the newcomer George curiously stepped out of the carrier to inspect his new environment. Compared to the cages at the shelter, this place was infinitely more comfortable.

Within minutes, George had adapted and promptly left a big pile in the litter box.

Not bad—very clever. He already knew where to go, no need to be taught.

After feeding each of them half a can of cat food as an afternoon snack, Ichin let the cats play on their own, brewed some coffee, and he and Utaha went back to their work.

Utaha was busy writing Volume 4 of her novel. As the story developed, sales were climbing, and her popularity in the light novel scene continued to rise.

The only difference from veteran authors was that Utaha had never once held a signing event.

Her pen name, Kasumi Utako, obviously sounded female, and with the publisher’s explanation, readers could understand why she avoided public appearances. Still, the mystery only made people more curious about what she really looked like.

Human curiosity toward the unknown was impossible to stop.

Fortunately, both Utaha and the publisher had done a good job protecting her identity. She didn’t visit the publisher often either, so the media lurking there had never caught on.

Ichin, on the other hand, was in the bedroom hammering away at code.

BattleBlock Theater and Titanfall didn’t require his oversight, but for Dark Souls, he was acting as the lead programmer.

The art style of Dark Souls was a massive shift from their previous three games—dark, oppressive, filled with bizarre monsters. Ichin doubted Kou, Aoba, or Hifumi could adapt quickly.

But Iijima Yun? She’d excel. Her past monster designs were always grotesque-yet-cool—repulsive yet stylish, giving players a strong sense of presence. When combined with Shinoda’s elaborate combat animations, the battles felt amazing.

So for Dark Souls, Ichin appointed Yun as the lead for monster design. As for humanoid enemies like the Lothric Knights or Black Knights, Kou and the others could handle those just fine.

On Monday, after class, Ichin and Utaha headed to the company.

The BattleBlock Theater team had moved entirely into the new office space for focused development. Since the art requirements weren’t too demanding, Hazuki hadn’t brought heavy-hitters like Kou along—instead, she used a few second-string artists, which was enough.

Walking over, Ichin lowered his voice. “How’s progress?”

“Really good,” Hazuki replied with a smile. “Nene’s officially joined full-time. She’s doing great—currently tuning the engine to match the game’s style. The artists are designing maps according to my direction, moving along steadily. At this pace, we should have a demo build ready by the end of June. Oh, by the way, Ichin-kun—are we sticking with the same platforms as before?”

“More or less,” Ichin nodded. “Though this time—”

“Got it. No rush. We’ll prioritize PC and Switch first. Especially the Switch—this game’s scope and gameplay fit it perfectly. We need to make sure that version is polished.”

Saying that, Ichin glanced at Nene. “She really is a genius, huh? Hazuki, do you think we should give her a raise?”

“A raise? That’s certainly possible.” Hazuki squinted happily. “Nene’s salary isn’t low now, but the engine she developed has huge value. With it, we could build plenty of small-scale single or multiplayer games with little difficulty. Should we propose it now?”

Ichin thought for a moment, then shook his head. “Let’s wait. Once the demo is ready and Nene has shown off more of her ability, then we’ll bring it up.”

“Mm, that’s better.”

“So, Hazuki, take care of Nene for now. With Umiko in Shanghai, we can’t let her feel wronged.”

“Don’t worry. I won’t.”

Hazuki promised with a grin full of gossip, clearly in high spirits.

Just then, a shiver ran down Nene’s back. She looked up and glanced around—only to find Hazuki smiling brightly at her.

“…Why do I feel like Hazuki’s plotting something against me?”

***

### Chapter 372: Always Feels Like… I Forgot Something?

Back in his office, Ichin began reviewing everyone’s work for the day.

After finishing the checks and just about to start on his own tasks, he suddenly froze.

“Hmm~~~ why do I feel like… I’ve forgotten something?”

Hearing this, Utaha glanced over curiously. “Ichin, you usually have a good memory. Did you really forget something?”

Arms folded, Ichin nodded. “I can’t recall what it is, but I have this nagging feeling I really did forget something important. Ugh… what the hell is it? I just can’t remember.”

The more he tried and failed to remember, the more irritated he became. The feeling was truly unpleasant.

So, he began mentally ticking things off one by one.

“Studies? All coursework is done, and I’ve been reading the assigned textbooks—no problem there. Work? Tokyo’s recruitment is finished, both projects have started, the plans are set. Over in Shanghai, recruitment is nearly wrapped up, the new members are skilled, and development will soon begin. At home? The cats are fine, food’s being dispensed by the timed feeder, nothing to worry about. So what on earth am I forgetting?”

Even Utaha found this odd. Ichin rarely misjudged things, so if he felt he forgot something, then surely he had. She joined him in thinking.

Just then, Ichin’s phone buzzed.

He picked it up—it was an email from Steam.

“Hm? The game Phantom Epoch from my wishlist? Ah, right—Akane Kosaka! That’s it!”

Utaha finally remembered too. Of course—Akane Kosaka, the one who had seen them as rivals and was also developing a game.

Moving to Ichin’s side, she looked at the email on his screen and chuckled. “So her game got delayed, only releasing today? Looks like the hype from Persona’s launch spooked her, huh? So she rushed to delay it?”

Ichin nodded, opened Steam, and clicked on the game from his wishlist.

Sure enough, in the news section he found a post about the delayed launch.

Although the announcement claimed the one-month delay was to “polish the game’s quality,” to Ichin it was obvious—Kosaka deliberately avoided clashing with Persona’s release.

As he thought this, he added Phantom Epoch to his cart, purchased it, and began the download.

The game did look somewhat interesting. And although Kosaka treated him as a rival, he would still buy and try it.

Compared to Persona, today’s launch had far fewer Steam reviews, but the rating was solid—85% positive. The real question was whether that score could hold once more players joined in.

While waiting for the download, Ichin snapped a photo of the progress bar and sent it to Kosaka.

Ichin: Miss Kosaka, congratulations on your game’s release. I’ll be playing it shortly.

A few minutes later, a reply came.

Kosaka Akane: Thank you, Ichin-kun. The game still has many flaws. I hope after playing, you can share suggestions so I can improve it.

Her tone was unexpectedly humble.

So… she must’ve felt the gap after playing Persona?

Her old doujin circle might’ve been a professional business group, but their development skill still lacked polish.

It seemed that after this experience, she had recognized her shortcomings and wanted to improve.

Ichin didn’t mind at all. The more good games in the world, the happier he’d be. He wasn’t about to sabotage anyone.

Ichin: No problem. I’ll write up a full review for you.

Putting down his phone, he saw the download was nearly done. He grabbed his controller and plugged it in.

“Guess I’ll skip work for the rest of today and play instead.”

Once the game installed, he launched it.

Utaha, also curious about Kosaka’s work, pulled up a chair and sat beside him to watch.

In terms of comprehensive development skill, Kosaka’s team couldn’t compare to Ichin’s. But she clearly understood the principle of “playing to strengths, avoiding weaknesses.”

As a hybrid of a former doujin group and a copyright company, she had advantages: a stable of excellent illustrators and fairly strong writers.

The moment the game started, Ichin noticed the graphics had improved noticeably compared to the PV.

The 3D visuals, with anime-styled characters, gave it a clear audience—it wasn’t aiming to appeal to everyone.

After playing through the prologue, Ichin quickly understood the story: a classic, straightforward adventure. The protagonist takes on a main quest, levels up while fighting monsters, gathers companions, and eventually saves the world.

Nothing groundbreaking yet, but stable and free of glaring problems. As long as it didn’t suddenly throw in bizarre values or pull a “Golf Club 2” situation, no one would have reason to complain.

“The visuals are fine, I actually like them. But the open-world design feels lacking,” Ichin said.

Once out of the starter zone, he saw the issue: the world was vast… but empty.

He picked up two side quests along the way, both generic monster-hunting missions, with no engaging dialogue.

When it came to side quests, Ichin still admired CD Projekt Red. Sure, Cyberpunk 2077 had been a mess, but The Witcher 3’s side quests were a gold standard to him—well-written, immersive, and with memorable characters.

By contrast, after over an hour of Phantom Epoch, he still hadn’t found any noteworthy side quests.

After Ichin defeated an elite boss, Utaha commented, “The combat feels… floaty.”

“Yeah, the feedback is weak—the impact just isn’t there. But it’s tolerable.”

Combat systems, especially action combat, were never easy for a new studio.

Even Ichin’s own Dark Souls was still in the process of refining its battle system—far from perfect.

***

### Chapter 373: Team Size and Meetings

As the workday was ending, Ichin saved and closed the game, putting down his controller.

Stretching his neck, he commented, “So far, it’s not bad. I’d give it a 75 out of 100.”

“Only 75?” Utaha tilted her head. “You looked so focused while playing, I thought you’d rate it higher.”

“Well, the pros and cons are both obvious. The open-world flaws weren’t well covered up, so 75 is already a fair score. Come on, time to go home.”

He shut down the computer, and together with Utaha, left the office—reminding others that they could wrap up too.

At their company, overtime was never forced. As long as employees finished their tasks, they could leave. Over time, everyone naturally grew used to leaving on time, unless they had a bit of unfinished work they wanted to clear up.

After driving home, they had dinner at Utaha’s parents’ place, then returned to their own apartment and got to their university homework.

Although university was more relaxed in schedule compared to high school, the coursework was undeniably more difficult. Even for Ichin and Utaha, it required focused effort.

Homework done, a shower taken—it was already close to 11.

Heating up two cups of milk, Ichin handed one to Utaha, then sat on the couch. “Tired? How about an early night today?”

Utaha nodded. “Mm, that sounds good. Though… Ichin, aren’t you going to play more games?”

“The game isn’t going anywhere. No rush.”

After a sip of milk, Ichin opened Bilibili on his phone and browsed the single-player streaming section. Quite a few were still streaming Persona.

Even after a month since release, the hype hadn’t faded.

As a massive RPG that took dozens of hours to clear just once, its main story was perfect for streamers.

The only downside: streams might cut into sales. But Ichin wasn’t worried—sales were already excellent, and compared to the game’s viral reach among players, that little bit of lost revenue hardly mattered.

Fast streamers had already finished it within a week or so, while others were digging deep—doing multiple playthroughs, aiming for perfect clears.

Ichin watched a while, sipping his milk, then went to bed with Utaha.

Lights off, lying under the blankets, Utaha yawned softly and leaned against him. “Ichin, do you think Dark Souls can be finished within a year and a half?”

“It should be,” Ichin nodded. “The BattleBlock Theater team will finish in six months, then merge into Persona’s team. I don’t plan to expand headcount too much. With too many people, management gets messy. The current size is about right.”

For large projects, Ichin aimed to keep team size under 200. That was already massive compared to when they developed Hollow Knight with just ten people. Even now, BattleBlock Theater’s team had only thirty-five.

That was more than enough—its art style was consistent and easy once mastered, with level design being the main challenge.

Dark Souls, though, had far tougher demands: world design, combat system, and massive boss battles.

“Having more people doesn’t always mean better,” Ichin explained. “Take Ubisoft. Thousands of staff spread across global studios. Without tight coordination, development rhythm falls apart. The result? Their games are usually passable, but quality varies wildly between different parts of the same game. That’s the cost of bloated, scattered teams.”

That’s why for Titanfall, Ichin didn’t repeat what he’d done with Persona—where multiple studios collaborated. Even if coordination was nearly flawless, he now kept each studio responsible for its own game. Umiko had even been sent to Shanghai as lead programmer.

Utaha shook her head. “Sounds way too complicated. I don’t think I’m cut out for management.”

Ichin laughed, pulling her into his arms. “You don’t need to be. Just keep doing what you love. Alright, time to sleep.”

“Mm. Good night, Ichin.”

“Good night, Utaha.”

...

After Umiko settled in Shanghai, she rested for two days before heading to the studio to begin development.

For the first few planning meetings, Ichin attended remotely.

Though present, he mostly listened, watching how the new team gelled in early planning.

After several sessions, he felt reassured. The local lead had experience at major overseas companies as well as domestic studios. Things looked promising.

And Umiko herself was blending in fine. Though cool in personality, her professionalism spoke for itself.

---

That afternoon, 4 p.m., meeting room.

Ichin gathered the art team to review recent character and monster designs.

Lesser enemies—gravediggers, peasants, dogs—needed no discussion. The focus was knights and large-scale monsters.

Connecting his laptop to the projector, Ichin brought up a newly revised 3D model of the Lothric Knight.

“This one I roughly drafted during testing,” he explained, “but Aoba reworked it from scratch. Looks good. Remember—the world I designed isn’t shiny and new. Knight armor shouldn’t gleam; it should look worn, rusted, scarred. Same goes for other enemies—keep designs true to the world’s tone. Of course, for specific female characters I’ve requested, don’t make them too grotesque.”

With that, he clicked to Momiji’s design sketch—the Fire Keeper.

***

### Chapter 374: Being Spied On — Game and Merchandise Sales

The moment the Fire Keeper’s concept art appeared on the big screen, the room erupted in gasps.

“So pretty!”

“She has such presence!”

“Even with her eyes covered, you instantly remember her!”

A tall, slender figure with a frail aura, long gray-white hair, a white crown covering her eyes, a black robe, and the half-hidden but exquisite features beneath her mask.

Even though she was designed as a blind maiden who had lost her sight, nothing stopped everyone from recognizing that this Fire Keeper was an undeniable beauty.

Hearing the praise, Momiji inevitably blushed. She whispered, “It’s thanks to Ichin-kun’s setting. I only drew according to the notes he gave me. This is just a character illustration… when it comes to making a 3D model, I’m still not so confident.”

Yagami Kou chuckled. “Relax, relax. Momo, we all know your skill. You’ve grown tremendously these past two years. Dark Souls may be very different from Persona, but this task is nothing you can’t handle.”

Toyama Rin nodded as well. “That’s right, Momo. You need more confidence—you’ll definitely pull it off!”

Ichin looked at Momiji and smiled. “They’re right. This concept art is excellent. Back when we developed Persona, the models you worked on were already solid and showed huge progress. Keep improving at this pace and there’ll be no problem. Alright, let’s move on. This next one needs revisions. This is Yun’s design for the Prisoner’s Cage. The limbs are too thick—make them thinner, emaciated, skeletal.”

Suddenly called out, Iijima Yun scratched her head in embarrassment.

“Ahaha… yeah, now that you say it, it does look off. I’ll fix it!”

The meeting stretched until nearly six. After going through all the designs and models, Ichin had given the art team a clearer direction.

When he returned to his office, Utaha was fully immersed in writing, her fingers flying across the keyboard, clearly in the middle of an inspiration burst.

Ichin didn’t disturb her. He quietly slipped out, closed the door softly, and headed to Hazuki’s office.

She looked up from sorting papers. “Hm? Ichin-kun, what brings you here?”

“Utaha’s in the zone writing. Didn’t want to interrupt her.”

“Ah~~ I see.”

Hazuki smiled, stood, and poured him tea from the office pot. “Perfect timing. Tell me how Umiko’s been in Shanghai these days.”

Ichin blinked. “You haven’t asked her yourself?”

“Nope. I’ve been swamped starting this new project. I figured since you’ve been keeping tabs, I’d ask you first. I’ll contact her on the weekend.”

“Got it. Well, she’s doing really well.”

They chatted for about ten minutes before Ichin returned to his office. By then, Utaha had stopped typing.

“Ichin, you came in earlier, didn’t you?”

“Yeah, but I saw you were focused, so I didn’t disturb you.”

Closing the door, Ichin walked over, brushed her bangs aside, and smiled. “How’s the writing?”

Enjoying his gentle touch, Utaha squinted happily, then wrapped her arms around his waist. “Not bad. At this pace, I can finish Volume 4 within half a month.”

“That’s fast.” Ichin sighed. “Don’t overwork yourself. Besides writing, you’ve been reading those reference books from class too. If you wear yourself out, I’ll feel bad.”

“Don’t worry. Reading isn’t draining for me.”

Then she pressed against him tightly. “As long as I can hug Ichin like this and recharge with some boyfriend energy, I’ll be fine.”

Ichin stroked her hair with a smile. “I don’t mind letting you hug me here… but maybe we should save this for home. Everyone’s been watching for a while.”

“Huh?”

Utaha froze, then glanced at the door. Sure enough, the once-closed door was now cracked open—and Kou, Rin, Aoba, even Hifumi were all squished together, spying with gossip-hungry grins.

Even Utaha, usually calm and composed, flushed crimson. “H-how long have you been standing there?!”

Kou smirked. “Mm~ about when you hugged him. Not long.”

—So they saw everything!

As Utaha’s blush deepened until she looked like a steaming kettle, Ichin waved at the crowd helplessly. “Alright, enough. Shoo. Unless you want the boss lady to dock your pay!”

“Ehh~~”

Grumbling, they finally dispersed.

Ichin glanced at Utaha, still burying her face against his chest, and chuckled. “What’s this? Suddenly shy? You weren’t like this before.”

“I’ve always been shy,” she muttered, glaring up at him. “It just doesn’t usually show. But this time they saw our private moment—it’s impossible not to be embarrassed.”

Her cheeks were no longer red, but her ears still glowed faintly pink. Clearly, she hadn’t recovered.

Ichin only laughed softly. “Don’t worry. Next time, we’ll spy on their gossip.”

Utaha nodded firmly, then helped him tidy up as they prepared to leave work.

---

May passed, June came, and soon it was the end of the month.

For Ichin and Utaha, collage was smooth sailing—no struggles at all.

As for sales, Persona’s momentum had slowed a little, but in June alone, across all platforms, it still sold 650,000 copies.

An astounding number, especially with its price point.

And not just the game—the merchandise released alongside it, like figures and mousepads, were selling like wildfire.

So far, only three figures had been made: the protagonist, his Persona Arsène, and Ann Takamaki. Yet all three had already sold out, with the second, third, and fourth production runs snatched up the moment preorders opened.

The sales of the merchandise proved it—this IP’s launch was a complete success.

***

### Chapter 375: The Test Demo of BattleBlock Theater

Arriving at the company and setting his things down, Ichin headed straight to the BattleBlock Theater dev team.

“Hazuki, let me see how the demo turned out.”

Hazuki smiled and handed him a controller. “Try it out. We’ve finished five levels so far, and testing has gone well. Nene, you’ll be Ichin’s partner. Go clear some stages together.”

“No problem!”

Sakura Nene happily stood up, grabbed the other controller, and sat beside Ichin.

Booting up the demo, Nene said excitedly, “With this kind of co-op game, not only can you clear levels together, you can also troll your teammate while doing it. That’s super fun! And Ichin, the traps you designed are really creative. Even though the characters look simple, the presentation is excellent!”

Ichin chuckled. “Well, this game was always meant to be small but refined, so the visual flair can’t be lacking. So, Nene, which one do you want?”

Since it was just a demo, only two characters were available: a round-headed little guy and a square-headed little guy.

“I’ll take the square one!”

“Then I’ll pick the round one.”

Once they selected, the two entered the simple prototype theater stage. Five large doors stood there, each leading to one of the five demo levels.

Nene eagerly moved her square-headed avatar ahead. “Go, go, go! First stage! We tried it earlier, but didn’t get a perfect clear!”

To clear perfectly, players had to collect everything and finish within the time limit.

These five demo levels weren’t the easiest opening ones, so not perfect-clearing them right away was normal. Even developers couldn’t just breeze through their own game flawlessly.

As they entered stage one, Ichin said, “We’re supposed to test gameplay here, so don’t mess around, alright?”

“Hehehe, don’t worry. I won’t.”

Ichin quickly figured out the route—jumping steps, clearing spike traps, and grabbing the first collectible gem.

With his guidance, Nene kept pace, and together they collected everything and reached the exit.

Seeing the results screen, Hazuki smiled. “Perfect clear. As expected, having you test makes all the difference.”

“I’ve just played a lot of platformers, that’s all.”

Ichin shrugged with a laugh, and the two moved on to the later levels. The difficulty ramped up, but after a few retries they managed perfect clears on all five.

Setting the controller down, Ichin stroked his chin in thought while the whole dev team quietly waited for his verdict.

Two minutes later, he looked up with a smile. “Very good. The jump feel is flawless—no issues there. These five levels are well-designed, the character and environment feedback all works. Keep progressing at this pace and it’ll be fine. But don’t forget what I said from the start: level design is the most important thing. Don’t let gameplay feel repetitive.”

“Understood!!!”

With the demo test done, Ichin returned to his side of things, leaving coordination with Nintendo to Hazuki, the producer.

Although he and Hazuki had co-written the project plan, since she was leading this team, he no longer needed to handle those details.

Back at his side, Ichin tidied up his own tasks before heading to the programming group.

Compared to BattleBlock Theater, Dark Souls’ programming workload was massive.

The programmers were hard at work. Even though Umiko, their original lead, had gone to Shanghai, everyone still worked seriously without slacking.

Narumi and Ruri were huddled over a data issue.

“I think this part needs adjusting, otherwise it might cause problems,” Narumi said.

“Really?” Ruri tilted her head uncertainly. “Maybe we should test it?”

Just then, Ichin stepped over. “Let me see.”

Seeing him, Ruri immediately scooted aside to give him room.

Ichin scanned the code quickly, then said, “Here, adjust this part—it can be simplified. And this section uses the wrong function; it’ll cause a runtime error.”

Narumi and Ruri stared wide-eyed—he’d instantly spotted issues they hadn’t even noticed.

“Wow, Ichin-kun, you’re amazing,” Narumi said. “I still feel like I haven’t caught up to you at all. The gap’s too big.”

Ruri nodded in agreement. She’d known many talented peers in school, but none as terrifyingly skilled as Ichin—their boss, and a true all-rounder.

Ichin smiled. “You’re both strong already. Narumi, you’ve got a solid foundation—you just need more practice. Same for you, Ruri. I’m looking forward to you two becoming the company’s programming pillars one day. Anyway, I won’t disturb you further. Keep at it, I’ll check on the others.”

As he walked off, Narumi and Ruri leaned together, whispering.

Narumi sneaked a glance at him. “He’s younger than us, but so incredible. This must be the ‘true genius’ Umiko mentioned.”

Ruri nodded. “Yeah. Even the so-called computer prodigies I met in school weren’t on his level. And what’s scarier is that he understands everything. Every project so far—he’s been the one leading the planning.”

“…And also, he’s handsome, right?”

“Mm, he is han—wha?!”

Ruri caught herself mid-sentence, blushing furiously as she glared at Narumi. “You did that on purpose!”

Narumi gave a mock-regretful sigh. “Doesn’t matter. Everyone in the company agrees he’s handsome. Too bad Utaha claimed him so early—otherwise, plenty of girls would’ve made a move.”

Remembering the jealous faces of the other girls at company dinners, Narumi’s smile only grew brighter.

***