NOVEL NEXT WORLD Chapter 1
Once, a junior who was pulling an all-nighter next to me asked me a question.
“Senior. If you were to go back to the past, what would you like to do?”
“Out of nowhere, why the past?”
“I feel like I’d fall asleep if we didn’t have a conversation like this…”
“Complaining… Anyway, what would you do if you went back in time?”
“First of all, I’d definitely try to stop myself from submitting job applications to a game company. What about our Team Leader?”
After hearing the junior’s question, I paused to think before answering.
“…If I were to go back in time, I’d probably throw out those cautious proposals tailored for the sales team and start making games filled with my favorite beautiful girls.”
***
I was a coward.
A coward who couldn’t even grasp an opportunity because of fear for the uncertainty of the future.
I managed to join the mobile game development team, the one I had longed for, but I couldn’t create the games I truly wanted.
Back then, I wasn’t sure if subculture games could truly succeed.
Whenever I talked to people around me about the game I wanted to create, they would always say the same things:
– “Ho-jin, get your act together, man. It’s too early for that kind of game to succeed in Korea. This isn’t Japan.”
That it’s too early for such games in Korea.
– “Subculture? Licensing deals? Sure, if it succeeds, you’ll be raking in the money, but how many otaku are even in Korea? Don’t you know about economies of scale?”
That there aren’t enough otaku in Korea, so it wouldn’t succeed.
– “Even if you insist, who would spend thousands of dollars on a game just to collect girl character illustrations?”
That no one would ever spend money on such a game.
Looking back now, all those comments were just empty talk from people who didn’t understand a thing.
Back then, the perception of subculture was so low that those sorts of dismissive comments were common.
But I couldn’t ignore these voices due to my role as a team leader in the newly established mobile development team, and the pressure to deliver results.
The compromise with reality led to this outcome.
– “Ho-jin, the department head is furious. While other companies are thriving, Eunson just released a new game that hit number one on Play Store. The business department is in high spirits.”
– “I’m sorry…”
– “Don’t just apologize, please do your best… We had some collection game proposals from our side before. Why didn’t you submit them?”
“If I submitted it, they’d say it’s all a joke, and the joint venture talks would collapse. How could I submit such a proposal?”
Didn’t I clearly tell the department head when the mobile development team was formed?
I mentioned that IPs would become more important and that subculture would be a blue ocean market, didn’t I?
What did the department head say? That no one would spend money on games where players collect character illustrations, right?
And they said, how could we run a business with otaku who have little purchasing power and are just a small group?
Though I wanted to yell these things, I ended up saying nothing.
It was clear that part of the blame was on me for not pushing harder, so I couldn’t shift the responsibility entirely onto the department head.
Before I could complain more, I began to wonder:
‘Is what I’m doing now right?’
Turning my head, I saw the poster of a mobile game we developed about a year ago hanging on the wall.
A mobile RPG game that secured a fairly successful launch and stayed in the mid-to-upper ranks of Play Store sales.
While directors focused on revenue and results might have been satisfied, I felt no sense of achievement or satisfaction.
Instead of joy or accomplishment, all I felt was a deep sense of emptiness.
What was wrong, exactly?
As I followed that train of thought, memories of my past life began to resurface.
My introduction to subculture through the manga books and video games that my father, who frequently traveled to Japan for business, used to bring me.
Initially just a hobby, subculture soon became a significant part of my life.
The turning point in my otherwise smooth life came during my university years.
It began when I joined a subculture club and started making games with friends.
We accidentally created a popular doujinshi game based on a famous series that was trending in Japan at the time.
The sense of accomplishment and excitement I felt as our game was praised in real-time at a doujin event was indescribable.
I decided to become a game designer because I wanted to recreate that feeling.
Looking back on those days, I could understand why I had been feeling so conflicted.
Ultimately, the problem was with me.
The hatred I harbored toward myself for discarding my dreams and compromising with reality.
The thought that I’d have to keep doing these uninteresting things for the rest of my life was eating me up.
I had to make a decision.
Should I stick to the path of compromise, like any mature adult would, or should I turn back and follow my dreams, even if it means being reckless?
After much contemplation, I realized I was still an immature adult.
“I’m going to quit,” I announced. “Why suddenly?”
“I’d like to try making a game with plenty of beautiful girls that I like.”
“… Well, you’ve done great here. I’m sure you’ll do well anywhere. Thanks for all your hard work.”
Having conveyed my aspirations, and with a strange look from the department head, I handed in my employee card and left. The entire process took only ten minutes.
In just ten minutes, my tedious company life came to an end.
***
Though I impulsively left the company, I wasn’t overly worried.
Thanks to the severance package and performance bonuses I’d saved, I had a decent amount of money.
Moreover, I didn’t have any expensive hobbies or a romantic relationship, so I didn’t need much money anyway.
A day spent informing and persuading my parents about my resignation.
Three days spent exploring new subculture mobile games I had missed while working.
After four days of all preparations, I began planning.
Since I had already brainstormed a rough outline during my time at the company, the process flowed smoothly.
Regardless of how dark or heavy the main storyline may be, there should always be a peaceful slice-of-life section afterward.
It should be a world free of depression or PTSD.
And there must be youth and romantic comedy elements woven into the story.
Despite the current trend toward dark and heavy subculture mobile games, I wasn’t too worried.
I believed that the foundation of subculture lies in casual and youthful stories, and I believed firmly that there is a demand for such stories.
With the framework set, things moved forward swiftly.
First, the setting of the main story, an academy city named “Arc.”
Then, the settings for the main characters who would shine there.
And the supporting characters and mobs who would enrich the storyline.
While fleshing out the skeleton of the plan and using that as a foundation to write the story, I couldn’t take a single break.
Because I was afraid the flow I had found myself in would break if I stopped even for a moment.
After nearly a month, pushing myself to the point of sleep deprivation, I completed the proposal.
[Girls’ Memorial]
The title of my first work, a story about young girls striving to maintain peace and everyday life amidst numerous hardships and challenges.
*
While contemplating the proposal, I picked up my smartphone and dialed a number.
After a brief beep of the ringing tone, a familiar voice answered.
[Ah, Senior, it’s been a while. I heard you quit. Are you doing okay?]
“Doing okay? It’s more like I’ve come back from the brink of death.”
[Why’s that? With the severance package you received, you could take a break or even go traveling for a while.]
“I’d love to, but I can’t rest because of my personality.”
[Ah, Senior did have those tendencies of overworking even while at the company. So, why’d you call?]
“Have the recruitment applications for experienced workers closed yet?”
[Probably not. As you know, while entry-level positions fill up, experienced roles are often in demand. Would you like to come here?]
With a hint of anticipation in the junior’s voice, I smiled and responded.
“Probably so. I’ve finished a proposal that I’ll send you. Is that okay?”
[Of course! If you send it to me, I’ll forward it immediately.]
While listening to the easy agreement in the junior’s voice, I felt relieved from the stress that had been building up recently.
“Thanks… I owe you a meal.”
At the moment I stood up to send the proposal, the junior’s voice was still ringing in my ears.
Thump.
Suddenly, a sharp pain shot through my chest.
It felt as if someone had stabbed me with a knife, and I could feel all the strength leaving my body.
Klang!
I needed to tell my junior on the other end of the phone to call an ambulance, but no words came out of my mouth.
The only thing I could do was crawl toward my fallen smartphone.
[S, Senior? Is something wrong?!]
I needed to tell my junior something, but…
As opposed to my thoughts, the junior’s voice was fading away.
My vision began to darken as I lost consciousness.
[Senior! Senior!!]
Eventually, the darkness enveloped my vision, and everything went black.
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