Ch.24[Chapter 24] My Little Roguelike

God, if you exist, please tell us.

What on earth did we do wrong?

“I believe we are lost.”

“I looked at the ceiling, but even that path is cut off.”

“Recognition. Searching for the best solution to the situation.”

A drum in a dark space.

And flames rising from waste materials burning in that drum.

Through the drum with cracked, dried paint, three people are here.

“Hmm. But isn’t this fun? With an adventure like this, how great will the reward be!”

Here, a pirate knight known as the shark of the land looks excitedly toward the future.

“We must return. My lord will be waiting for my report.”

Here, a foreign kunoichi remains bound to her past.

“Answer: Cannot reach conclusion with current data.”

Here, a highly advanced android faces reality.

God, if you exist, please tell us.

Past, present, future…

Where on earth are we?

The view pulls back, and the three people shrink to dots.

Through burning flames and flashing red warning lights, a glimpse of a ruined laboratory appears.

And the video ends with zombies wearing headsets and visors running through.

“Bravo! Bravo!”

Hanus of Five Colored Winds stood up, filled with emotion, and began applauding continuously after watching the video that would serve as the game’s intro.

Although the quality was somewhat lacking since it was filmed on a smartphone, it was still good enough quality since the significance was in the production itself rather than anything beyond that.

“I can’t believe we’ve come this far.”

Donatello sobbed.

“We actually made a real game.”

The developers were overwhelmed with both helplessness and emotion.

In fact, what they had created was a demo version, playable only up to the first region.

With midterms approaching, they had worked through the night to make it playable for submission.

“It really came out.”

Unryu Hime spoke to Sir Dominic after watching the intro.

Fortunately, the character work was already complete, so Sir Dominic had changed back into his Feralant knight uniform.

“Seeing another me moving on screen is quite peculiar.”

Anyone involved with this game would be moved, but few would be as overwhelmed with emotion as Sir Dominic.

Sir Dominic looked at himself moving on screen and recalled past events.

Motion capture, interactive dialogue, and even staying alone for three hours to record special idle dialogue—he thought he would go mad.

“Adding new data to the [Game] folder. This data will be useful as it forms the foundation of Gachaland.”

Android Zero spoke in her characteristically mechanical voice, though her artificial intelligence capable of learning emotions made her voice seem somewhat lively.

“So all that’s left is to submit for midterms, and then create the remaining second region for the final submission, right?”

Vampire Leonardo, whose face had lost all color from excessive overtime, asked.

“Don Castello was documenting the process anyway.”

Hanus of Five Colored Winds nodded.

And unfounded confidence welled up.

This should be enough to avoid failing the course.

“Um… I didn’t mean for you to go this far, students.”

Professor Andre, in charge of game production practice, wiped sweat from his forehead with a handkerchief, looking perplexed.

The game the professor had wanted was something like early arcade games—bouncing balls or simply jumping to collect coins—not a proper game of this caliber.

In fact, most games submitted by other students remained at the level of flash games.

“What?”

Hanus and the developers were taken aback.

They had made a game because they were told to make one, so what was this about?

“This would be suitable for submission to the year-end indie game festival. My goodness. In my 20 years of teaching, this is a first.”

The professor took out a lens cloth from his pocket and began polishing his glasses.

Hanus didn’t know it, but this action was Professor Andre’s routine when trying to remember the faces of people he liked.

“Let’s see, the students’ names are Hanus, Don Castello, Donatello, Raphael, and Leonardo, correct? I’ll remember that. If you progress just a little further from here by the final exam, I’ll give you an A or higher.”

The professor put his glasses back on and looked at each face. Then, with a kind smile, he said:

“Have you considered graduate school?”

Hanus and the developers left the professor’s office in a daze.

They couldn’t adapt to the current situation.

They made a game because they were told to, and suddenly the professor was recommending graduate school.

While Hanus and the developers were overwhelmed by this unexpected opportunity, Don Castello was overwhelmed from a different perspective.

“Suitable for submission to the year-end indie game festival…”

He could hear the sound of money rolling in.

Don Castello estimated the budget spent so far.

He would know more precisely by checking the ledger back at the club room, but Don Castello, sharper than anyone when it came to money, recalled an approximate figure.

3 million Credits.

Generally, a game enjoyed by Stars cost around 50,000 to 60,000 Credits.

If he set the minimum at 50,000, selling over 100 copies would generate profit even after taxes.

And he had never seen a game worse than his sell fewer than 100 copies.

Having completed his calculations instantly, Don Castello said to his fellow game creators:

“Let’s submit this.”

Don Castello began persuading the others.

At the time when all the developers had left to submit their midterm projects, only three people remained in the club room.

Strangely, however, only silence hung between the three.

Zero was naturally a taciturn android, so that was expected, but even Unryu Hime, who was usually excessively energetic, was quiet, which seemed odd.

“Everyone seems tired.”

Unable to bear the silence, Sir Dominic spoke up.

Zero merely nodded in affirmation, but Unryu Hime looked at Sir Dominic with a start.

“W-what do you mean, tired—”

“The electricity lacks nutrition, possibly due to outdated wiring.”

Fortunately, Unryu Hime’s flustered response was interrupted by Zero’s words.

“I suspect the problem is also that it’s residential wiring rather than commercial grade.”

Indeed, behind Zero was a long cord connected to a wall outlet, and even at maximum charge, she could only move for 4 hours a day.

“The doctor was right. I’m saving his statement that ‘problems become apparent only in actual operation’ to my non-deletable folder.”

While Sir Dominic and Zero were engaged in trivial conversation, Unryu Hime’s face was burning.

Why? Ever since seeing Sir Dominic in his pirate skin, Unryu Hime’s heart had been racing at random times.

In truth, it was just the memory of being startled by Sir Dominic’s pirate skin resurfacing whenever she saw him—like the saying about being startled by a pot lid after being startled by a snake—but the sheltered Unryu Hime had no way of realizing this.

Unryu Hime didn’t know what this strange sensation meant, but she knew one thing:

To understand this feeling, she needed to talk to Sir Dominic.

“Um—”

“We’re back! Wow, here we are again.”

Just as Unryu Hime was about to speak, club members entered through the now-repaired door.

Unryu Hime missed her chance to discover the nature of her feelings.

“Did the midterm examination go well?”

Sir Dominic thought things had gone well judging by their expressions, but asked just to be sure.

“The midterm went well, and it looks like the final will too.”

“Yeah. Oh, right. Shouldn’t we tell them about that?”

“Ah. Right.”

The developers pulled out papers they had hastily printed on their way back.

“Could you sign this?”

Hanus extended the papers and a pen toward them.

It was labeled “Character Incentive Contract.”

At that moment, at Super Deluxe’s place.

“Why am I always the one handling these things? I helped recruit characters, recruited musicians—well, that was thanks to my fan—but anyway, I’ve done so much, and they want more?”

Super Deluxe grumbled after hanging up the phone.

‘Do you know anyone who could help with promotion?’

It was Don Castello’s call.

Don Castello had abruptly asked Super Deluxe about celebrities who could help with promotion.

Of course, Super Deluxe knew several suitable people, but he thought he had helped enough already and planned to refuse.

But what kind of person was Super Deluxe?

Wasn’t he someone with a soft heart who couldn’t refuse requests from those around him?

‘If you help, I’ll give you 10% of the net profit.’

It absolutely wasn’t that his heart wavered because of money.

Super Deluxe sighed.

Having already made up his mind, he took out his smartphone from his pocket and selected someone’s name from his contacts.

He could connect immediately by pressing the call button, but Super Deluxe hesitated.

Finally, having completely made up his mind, Super Deluxe pressed the call button.

“Yeah. It’s been a while. Yeah. Yeah. Right. Come on, don’t say I only call when I need something.”

To the person who might gloriously mark the end of this project.