"Aiko, I really never imagined that we'd one day get the chance to be judges at a game developers' competition!"
At the competition venue of the 13th Game Developers' Contest in London, Aiko, Kazumi, and Oto sat together at the judges' table. Kazumi couldn't help but sigh with emotion.
Back then, when she, Aiko, and the others were still in junior high, they could easily have gone down completely different paths in life.
Oto, who loved music, might have become a music teacher or a musician.
Kazumi liked art—she might have become a painter, or perhaps a manga artist.
As for Aiko, she was the classic top student. No matter the field, she always aimed to be the best. If not for video games, her career path would likely have led her to become a corporate executive and eventually a standout figure in some industry.
But that also came with a drawback.
In a society like Japan's, Aiko would have faced obstacles everywhere.
Except in the game industry.
As an emerging industry, video games had produced countless outstanding developers.
Among game developers, there was no distinction between men and women—only differences in skill and talent.
Here, Aiko could find better opportunities and develop more smoothly, free from the influence of social prejudice and public opinion.
And now, all three of their life trajectories had been changed by video games.
Friends since childhood, the three of them had grown up to pursue what they each loved, yet ultimately converged again, working together toward the same goal.
They used their own passions to achieve that shared objective.
Even Aiko, who was usually very calm, felt a surge of emotion inside.
So many years of effort had finally paid off.
Now she could be considered one of the leading figures in the video game industry, and this time she had even been invited to serve as a judge for the 13th Game Developers' Contest.
They would mainly be responsible for scoring casual games, especially simulation and farming-type titles, and they could offer the most reasonable advice based on their professional experience.
"This is the result of our combined efforts," Aiko said. "If any one of the three of us had been missing, we probably wouldn't have made it this far."
Kazumi nodded vigorously. "Mm-hmm! That's why the three of us are the strongest iron triangle. We'll definitely keep being solid like this in the future."
Oto added from the side, "By the way, Teacher Takayuki is also coming to serve as a judge, and he's even the chief judge of the main panel. I wonder when he'll arrive."
"Teacher is usually very busy," Aiko replied. "But he should be here within the next couple of days, right?"
Kazumi sighed. "Teacher Takayuki is still working so hard even now. He could've completely retired and taken it easy by this point."
Aiko said, "That just shows you don't really understand him. Teacher Takayuki isn't someone who would ever easily give up game development. He loves games—more than anything else. That passion for games is his most precious asset. To be honest, sometimes I envy him. I've always treated making games as a goal for success, but I… don't have that absolute love for games."
After saying that, a hint of melancholy appeared on Aiko's face.
Kazumi patted her on the shoulder. "That's not a bad thing at all. It's not like you have to love games to make games. Didn't Teacher Takayuki say it himself? Game development needs diversity. It's not only people who love games who can make good ones. Sometimes you also need people who are rational enough to participate—they can examine development from an observer's perspective and notice things that even passionate players might miss. So we're indispensable."
For once, Oto didn't argue with Kazumi and instead nodded in agreement. "Right. We're indispensable."
"Teacher Takayuki is here!"
Suddenly, Kazumi's eyes lit up. She noticed the movement at the entrance immediately, and upon closer inspection, she saw Takayuki entering the venue together with several well-known game creators.
Not long after he entered, Takayuki became the center of attention.
At this moment, there were easily over a hundred game developers present.
Most of them gathered in teams of two or three. When Takayuki appeared, they all stopped what they were doing and turned toward him with looks of admiration.
Whether they were fifteen- or sixteen-year-old young developers, or developers in their sixties who were old in age but young at heart, all of them deeply admired Takayuki.
This was a society where the strong earned universal respect.
If you only had money or power, you might earn fear or flattery.
But someone who truly had ability—and presence—earned almost nothing but admiration.
Takayuki was exactly that kind of person now.
As he passed by people, he greeted each of them warmly, without the slightest hint of arrogance, like an old friend. This made everyone feel even closer to him.
"Teacher Takayuki is still so charismatic," Kazumi said, resting her chin in her hands. Though she was already around thirty, her innocence hadn't faded at all.
Perhaps the environment of game development meant she had little exposure to more complex social relationships.
In the gaming world, as long as your games were good enough, you could earn the respect of most people.
It was a newly developing industry, one that hadn't yet been completely tainted.
In such an industry, those with strong real abilities were more likely to succeed and less likely to be buried.
Aiko turned her head slightly, as if avoiding something. "Don't keep staring at Teacher. We're judges now too—we have our own work to do."
Kazumi and Oto exchanged a glance. They both understood what was going on, but tacitly chose not to point it out.
Takayuki himself didn't notice the three of them. There were simply too many people gathered around him. Most of the admirers crowded over—some wanted autographs or photos, but more of them wanted to seize the opportunity to ask questions about game development.
Standing in front of them was a game god, a godfather of gaming. Just asking for a signature or a photo would be a complete waste.
Most people present were very practical—what mattered most was gaining something of real value.
Takayuki also felt goodwill toward those asking questions. These were people willing to work hard to make better games, so he patiently answered them.
Of course, the Q&A couldn't go on forever. Takayuki had other things to do that day. After about ten minutes of answering questions, he left with the event organizers and headed to the backstage preparation area of the competition venue.