At the beginning of 2019, following the opening of a new park district the previous year, Gamestar Park had become one of the world's top-tier amusement parks—and a holy land in the hearts of video game players.
As a result, Gamestar Electronic Entertainment gained even more revenue. According to estimates, the park's initial construction investment of five billion dollars could be fully recouped within three to five years—an astonishing rate of return.
Other companies could only look on with envy. After all, they didn't have such a massive user base, nor did they possess so many video game IPs.
Still, Suri Electronics wasn't willing to give up. As the company ranked just behind Gamestar Electronic Entertainment in the gaming industry, they naturally wanted a share of the amusement park business as well—at the very least, to help subsidize their game development teams.
However, Suri Electronics lacked both the user base and the IP portfolio necessary to support building a full-scale amusement park on their own.
In the end, they chose to cooperate with major media conglomerates, adding Suri Electronics–themed zones inside already-established amusement parks owned by those media groups.
This approach required far less investment and allowed them to leverage the media groups' reach to expand their influence.
In Takayuki's previous life, Nintendo had done something similar—partnering with Universal Studios to build Nintendo-themed parks in multiple countries, achieving solid returns.
As for other companies, they simply weren't qualified to take part in something like this.
…
"Takayuki, you're really being way too careless!"
Aizawa Airi stormed into Takayuki's office, glaring at him angrily.
Takayuki looked up in confusion. "Huh… what's wrong?"
"You still have the nerve to ask what's wrong? I'll say this—you've always been incredibly dedicated to work. Back when we started the company together, you were basically a tireless machine. But now that you've already reached this level, why are you still pushing yourself so hard?"
"This is work I love," Takayuki replied calmly. "I wouldn't call it pushing myself."
"But you can't just ignore Aya!" Airi shot back.
Takayuki looked a bit awkward. "I'm not ignoring her. You're exaggerating. If there's ever an issue, I'm by her side immediately."
"That's still not enough!" Airi emphasized each word. "At times like this, women are at their most vulnerable. You need to be constantly there for her—protecting her, accompanying her!"
Takayuki sighed. "I really am with her a lot. Look—I leave and get off work on time every day now. I don't do any extra work, and once I'm home, I devote myself completely to being with her."
Airi was about to say more, but Takayuki cut in.
"I understand why you feel this way. But what I want is to balance both career and family, not abandon one for the other. That said, I've already prepared myself—when the time comes, I'll put all my work aside and stay with Aya completely. But right now… it's still a bit early. It's only been about four months."
Besides, his parents had returned and were constantly around Aya these days. With people accompanying her, Takayuki felt fairly reassured.
"You're sure you'll stay with Aya the whole time when it really matters?" Airi asked seriously. "If I remember correctly, that period will coincide with the release of Cyberpunk 2077, right? That's your most important project. Are you really willing to miss it?"
"I've already done everything that needs to be done," Takayuki said. "The release day itself isn't what matters anymore—what matters is the players' final experience."
Airi studied his expression, then nodded. "Alright. I'll trust you—for now. But honestly, do you really think pouring this much into Cyberpunk will make the money back?"
"Probably not," Takayuki replied plainly.
"What?" Airi froze. "You don't think you'll recoup it, and you still spent that much money making a game at this scale? We do make a lot of money, but even so, we can't just burn it like this. The company still has many areas that require funding."
"Relying solely on Cyberpunk 2077 as a buy-to-play game would indeed make it hard to earn back five hundred million dollars," Takayuki said. "But I never said the game would only sell a single-player story."
"What do you mean?"
"With a world this rich and a city this complete, it would be a huge waste not to create an online mode."
"So you're planning to monetize through online items? Like Counter-Strike or Candy Frenzy?"
"Something like that. But another reason is that I want to create an online cyberpunk world—one where players can interact and play together."
"Is that… really reliable?"
"We'll only know once the online mode is released. As for now, I still need to finish the final preparations before launch. Once that's done, I'll stay with Aya. She's been through so much—I could never leave her to bear it alone."
"That's more like it," Airi said, satisfied.
Having gotten the answer she wanted, she stopped pressing the issue.
Takayuki then took the opportunity to ask her about progress on new technology development.
Game consoles still needed continuous R&D—this was an indispensable part of the business.
For both handhelds and home consoles, the focus now was affordability paired with strong performance.
Home consoles were manageable, but achieving both low cost and high performance on handheld devices was much more difficult.
Still, those challenges could be overcome.
Airi gave a brief report. The handheld console development hadn't made major breakthroughs yet, but the next-generation console project was now on track.
Following the usual console cycle, a new generation could be released five to six years after the previous one.
After finishing her report, Airi left Takayuki's office.
Before leaving, she mentioned that she planned to visit Aya at Takayuki's home that evening. As one of Aya's closest friends, Airi treated her like family.
Once Airi was gone, Takayuki glanced at the photo placed beside his desk.
It was a picture of him and Aya on their wedding day.
Time really did fly—so many years had passed in the blink of an eye.
He had been in this world for over twenty years now, and at last, he had left his own marks on it—along with a future.
About a month earlier, a medical checkup had confirmed that Aya was pregnant.
This was something Aya had long hoped for.
When Takayuki first found out, he had been momentarily stunned.
After all, across both of his lives, he had never experienced something like this.
But once it truly sank in, he felt happy—an indescribable kind of happiness.
"Hmm… what should we name them?"
Takayuki fell into deep thought.