Japan, March 1st, 2024.
The annual grand event of the gaming industry was held in Japan.
This year's festival was no longer limited to Tokyo alone.
Osaka, Yokohama, and Nagoya were all hosting the event simultaneously.
Each city had its own theme.
After a series of fierce bids, Osaka successfully secured the Pokémon-themed Carnival.
Tokyo obtained the rights to host multiple themed carnivals, including Mario, Final Fantasy, and The Legend of Zelda.
Yokohama won the hosting rights for the Annual Esports Championships.
Nagoya claimed the Third-Party Games Exhibition.
All of these hosting rights were officially announced by Gamestar Electronic Entertainment.
To win these rights, the cities had practically fought tooth and nail.
The gaming industry now accounted for half of Japan's industrial output, completely surpassing the combined scale of anime, film, and television.
Once a city secured the right to host a themed event, fans of that IP would flood in, bringing enormous tourism revenue and boosting the local economy.
Gamestar Electronic Entertainment had now reached a status comparable to a major financial conglomerate.
However, no matter which city hosted which events, the Esports World Cup was always held in Tokyo—
At the Esports World Arena, right next to Gamestar Park.
Here, esports athletes from many countries gathered.
From secondary esports like Need for Speed, basketball, and football,
To Street Fighter, speedrun competitions, and then mainstream esports like Counter-Strike and StarCraft.
Countless young people released their passion here, fulfilled their dreams here, and even brought glory to their nations.
From beginning to end, Gamestar Electronic Entertainment's Esports World Cup never joined the official Olympic system.
Instead, it formed a completely independent tournament structure.
Any game deemed sufficiently mature would have its in-game data locked for the next ten years, unchanged in the slightest, to ensure competitive stability.
"Go, China team! Go, China team!"
Inside the largest esports arena, countless young spectators waved flags and shouted excitedly.
On the central stage below, two Street Fighter players were locked in a fierce battle.
One was a U.S. player, the other a young competitor from China.
Both gave it their all, determined to claim the championship.
"Daddy, it's so lively here," a little girl said, her eyes sparkling, as she looked toward the stands.
The middle-aged man smiled, lifted her up, and let her sit on his shoulders so she could see the match better.
The Chinese player was now in dire straits.
In a best-of-seven match, he had already lost three games, and this round looked like another loss—meaning the national-level championship would slip away.
But he didn't give up.
Clenching his teeth, he endured, searching desperately for a weakness.
"This place was built by Daddy himself," the man said with a smile. "Pretty cool, right?"
"Mhm!"
"Be careful, don't fall."
A slightly cool voice came from behind him.
"Aya, it's fine. Xiaomeng has loved riding on my shoulders for years. How could she fall?"
"She's already five years old. She's not a toddler anymore. Can you really hold her?"
"Of course."
Takayuki puffed out his chest, striking a pose that said he was completely fine.
But Yume spoke up obediently, "Daddy, put me down. I've seen enough. Don't tire yourself."
"Alright, listening to my daughter. My daughter really cares about her old dad."
Behind him, Aya rolled her eyes.
"Yeah! He won! A comeback! A comeback! Come on—reverse sweep, reverse sweep!"
On the stage, the young Chinese player finally seized his opponent's mistake and clawed back a win.
The score was now three to one.
The arena erupted with even more excitement.
This was gaming's carnival.
Many young people were exhausted by work and burdened by stress in daily life.
But here, watching something they loved, they seemed to forget all their pain, sweeping away the gloom in their hearts.
All that remained was excitement.
"It's really lively. Hard to believe it's grown to this level in just thirty years," Aya said.
Takayuki nodded. "In another thirty years, it may develop far beyond what we can imagine."
In fact, even now it had already exceeded Takayuki's original expectations.
Back then, he had only wanted to create a small game company and bring games from his previous life into this world.
Thirty years later, it had grown into this.
And technologically, this world had already far surpassed his previous one.
Even the kind of full-immersion life pods once seen only in web novels now existed.
Yet people still preferred tangible gaming experiences.
Life pods felt too much like real life—and that made them less fun.
Games sometimes needed to feel real, but not actually become life itself.
"We won! We won! We're champions!"
On the stage below, the Chinese player completed the impossible—pulling off a reverse sweep.
The American player's mentality collapsed in the later stages, unable to withstand the relentless pressure, and was defeated.
It was only natural—perseverance was China's greatest strength.
As the crowd roared, Takayuki quietly led Aya and their daughter Yume out of the esports arena and slipped into the main venue of the Gamestar Carnival.
Here, celebrations were also in full swing.
March 1st had become the New Year for gamers worldwide.
Countless game announcements were now commonplace.
But Gamestar Carnival remained the undisputed number one in players' hearts.
"Daddy, Daddy, I want to go there!"
Along the way, some players recognized Takayuki's family, but they only watched with admiration, never daring to disturb them.
If anyone did try, hidden bodyguards would immediately step in—no one could easily approach Takayuki's family.
At that moment, Yume noticed a venue not far away.
Takayuki looked over and saw it was a live game developer exchange competition.
Many newcomers were showcasing their games there—both to prove themselves and to attract potential investors.
Yume insisted on going. Aya looked helpless, and Takayuki let his daughter happily run over.
She dashed to a development machine.
"Hey, little girl, you can't touch that machine," a young man wearing a badge said as he approached.
He was one of the indie developers and was worried she might interfere.
But the little girl ignored him and began typing skillfully.
Her hands were small and delicate, yet her typing speed rivaled an adult's.
The young man froze mid-step.
Because he realized—
She was coding.
He stood there dumbfounded behind Yume.
Takayuki himself was stunned and instinctively looked back at Aya, as if seeking an explanation.
"Don't look at me," Aya said calmly. "She's your child. With both our genes, is this really surprising?"
"Uh…"
So young, already a programmer?
What was he doing at her age?
Playing with mud.
Truly, each generation surpassed the last.
Not long after, Yume finished making a simple Mario-like mini-game.
The game was rough and childish.
But—
It ran.
You could play it, run, and jump.
Even with just one level, it was impressive.
"Hmm, it's okay," Yume said after testing it.
She seemed a bit dissatisfied with her own work but didn't linger.
Once she confirmed she could make a game, she ran back to Takayuki.
The young developer snapped out of his daze and looked in the direction she ran—
And saw Takayuki.
Oh.
Then it made sense.
If she was his daughter, there was nothing strange about it.
Takayuki picked up his daughter and asked with curiosity, "Yume, when did you learn programming?"
"Mom said I should tell you—I've known it since I was in her belly," Yume replied seriously.
Takayuki's forehead twitched.
"…Alright then. So Yume, you want to make games in the future too?"
Yume nodded vigorously. "Of course! I'm going to inherit the family business."
Where did she learn such words? A bit too mature, wasn't she?
Before Takayuki could say more, she continued proudly, "And I have an even bigger dream."
"What dream?" Takayuki asked.
"I want to become the world's number one game developer!"
She raised her little fist.
"I want to be Dad's god!"