"Quit?"
Takayuki looked at the news online, clearly surprised.
That was fast—too fast.
He wouldn't have been shocked if this young developer had eventually left Mikfo, but he had expected it to happen at least a year or two later. Choosing to quit now was practically throwing himself onto a burning fire.
This was basically telling players outright that Infinite World was a bad game, not worth buying at all. That would inevitably damage Mikfo's product reputation.
Mikfo would definitely try to retaliate—using public opinion, PR pressure, or other means.
That was standard procedure. Mikfo needed to keep growing, and its risk-control and PR departments wouldn't just sit back and let public sentiment spiral out of control.
As for Takayuki himself, he planned to just watch the drama unfold. This wasn't really his problem.
But only a few minutes later, his assistant called.
Someone wanted to speak with him—the developer of Infinite World.
Takayuki froze for a moment, then told his assistant to put the call through.
"Mr. Takayuki, I'm very sorry to disturb you," the young man said on the other end of the line, his voice tense and restrained.
"No, it's fine," Takayuki replied calmly. "A lot seems to have happened to you recently. Your game's reputation doesn't seem… great."
"Mr. Takayuki, the situation is actually far more complicated than it looks," the young man hurried to explain. "I had a lot of ideas for the game—many systems and concepts I wanted to realize—but because of technical limitations and tight deadlines, I couldn't fully bring the game I envisioned to life."
"That's normal," Takayuki said. "Mikfo is a textbook commercial company. They do have long-term vision in their own domains, but when it comes to games, they're lacking in some areas."
Myron Case had excellent instincts in semiconductors and electronics—but not in video games.
Different industries demanded different perspectives. You couldn't expect a chef to perform surgery.
"Exactly. That's how I feel too," the young man said bitterly. "I deeply regret choosing to work with Mikfo in the first place. If I could go back, I'd never approach them again."
Back then, he had chosen Mikfo because of their generous investment.
Only later did he realize that bigger investments always came with a price.
That price was losing one's soul.
At this point, regret didn't really change anything. What was done was done.
"So," Takayuki asked patiently, "what exactly are you calling me about?"
"I was hoping… I don't know whether you'd be willing to sponsor us," the young man said carefully. "I'm not willing to let Infinite World remain a half-finished product. I want to complete it."
"Hm?"
Takayuki raised an eyebrow.
"Sponsor you? You want me to fund continued development of Infinite World? Isn't the copyright owned by Mikfo?"
"No, not at all," the young man replied quickly. "The copyright has always belonged to me. My relationship with Mikfo was purely an investment partnership. They received their returns from the game, and I received their funding."
That made Takayuki even more surprised.
Mikfo hadn't cared about owning the game from the start.
In fact, they might have intended to discard it like trash the moment its commercial value dried up.
"I insisted on full ownership of my game from the beginning," the young man continued. "I only granted Mikfo platform distribution rights on their ecosystem."
He'd learned that lesson from both Mikfo's own history and countless business case studies.
Myron Case had once been forced out after losing controlling shares of Red Fruit. Hack Brown of Brown Entertainment had suffered a similar fate.
These cases were emphasized repeatedly in business education: never give up absolute control for short-term gains.
Right now, the young man was incredibly thankful he'd stuck to that principle.
Of course, it also helped that Mikfo genuinely didn't care about game ownership.
Otherwise, they could have easily threatened to pull funding unless he surrendered the rights.
"I didn't expect Mikfo to not even own your game," Takayuki said with interest.
"So you left Mikfo with the game itself and want to keep developing Infinite World? What's your plan going forward? Paid DLC to make money?"
"Yes," the young man replied. "But before that, I want to restore the game's reputation through a period of free content updates."
Restore its reputation…
That really did echo No Man's Sky.
"Go on," Takayuki said. "Tell me your ideas—your long-term plan."
"Ah—yes, yes!" The young man froze for a second, then immediately became excited.
Takayuki hadn't rejected him outright!
From the moment he made the call, he'd been terrified of that possibility. If Gamestar Electronic Entertainment said no, he didn't know where else he could go.
He doubted any other company would be willing to clean up this mess.
Why spend that money when you could just make a new game instead?
Mikfo had already made that choice—they were happy to invest in his next project, but had zero interest in pouring more money into an already released game.
"Here's the situation, Mr. Takayuki," the young man said earnestly. "The game is still in a very early state, but the foundation is solid. My next step is to deeply improve AI-driven planetary generation."
"I've realized that purely random generation leads to wildly inconsistent aesthetics. But if we develop a structured AI system for world generation, we can solve that problem."
"I also originally planned full online multiplayer. It was nearly finished, but we got stuck on conflicts between core systems. Give me enough time, and I know we can complete it."
"Then there's narrative depth—expanding the story, adding more interdimensional civilizations."
"I also want to add construction systems, letting players build structures, along with farming, industrial production, infrastructure development…"
"And I also plan to—"
Takayuki listened patiently.
He had to admit, these plans were genuinely solid. Based on the roadmap alone, they could indeed make the game much more enjoyable.
"And all of this," Takayuki asked, "you're planning to update for free?"
"Well… aside from major story expansions," the young man hesitated, "I'm planning to make all of it free…"
His heart began to pound.
So much free content meant essentially burning Gamestar Electronic Entertainment's money.
Would Takayuki accept that?