The meeting—or rather, the proclamation—ended abruptly, and everyone returned to their respective positions, each lost in thought.
Dan Heng and Bronya returned to their mountain of code, while Hoshino and March 7th huddled together, whispering about something.
Kiana put on her headphones, but the game sound effects didn't resume; she just stared blankly at her phone screen.
Mei reopened her sketchbook, her pen hovering above the page.
Shinji sat back at his desk, forcing himself to calm down and start sorting through the treasures from another world that he had obtained from the System.
Out of the corner of his eye, he noticed Kiana and Mei almost simultaneously picking up their phones, their fingers tapping rapidly across the screens.
Soon, his own phone, placed on the desk, lit up repeatedly over a few minutes.
The first message came from the contact labeled "Paramecium":
"Hey, Captain, what you just said was pretty passionate. But if we mess this up…
My dad mentioned that his European branch is short of a creative (and obedient) marketing consultant. The environment is great, with room and board included. Interested? 😉"
Immediately after came a second message, from "Cook":
"Shinji, the new game concept sounds very challenging. If… I mean, if the Studio needs a more stable environment for creation, the Raiden Group's R&D Center in Tokyo has always admired independent game development teams. We can provide comprehensive support. Of course, the prerequisite is that the core members of the team are willing to relocate." (Accompanied by a gentle smile emoji)
Two messages, two options, yet both led to the same conclusion—leave this place, give up the struggle, and enter their worlds.
Shinji glanced at the screen, a faint curve forming at the corner of his mouth.
As expected.
He didn't rush to reply, simply placing his phone face down on the desk.
When debts pile up, you stop worrying; when lice infest, you stop itching. This "sweet burden" could wait.
He needed to clear his thoughts and quickly outline the first chapter of Honkai Impact 3rd.
Just as he focused, trying to recall the exact details of the "Overture" from his Memory Palace, the edge of his desk was gently tapped.
He looked up and saw Bronya standing silently beside him.
She had left her corner at some unknown time, her silver-gray hair framing her lake-blue eyes, calm and unreadable.
She pushed an object toward him.
It was a bank card—an ordinary debit card, its edges slightly worn.
"There are two million inside," Bronya said flatly, without emotion.
"I saved it from participating in various competitions and doing some outsourcing work. The PIN is the universal password you used when you last fixed my computer."
Shinji froze.
"The Studio cannot fail."
Bronya continued, speaking slowly, each word perfectly clear.
"Kiana and Mei have other paths. But this place… this is where 'games' can be made."
Her gaze swept over the messy, dilapidated office—a place of uncertainty that had nonetheless birthed countless drafts and ideas.
"My dowry money," she said, pausing as if the phrasing felt odd, yet she didn't change it.
"I'm lending it to you for now. If it's not enough," she pursed her lips, "I'll find another way."
She didn't wait for Shinji's response, nor did she look at his expression.
Turning, she returned to her corner to resume coding with Dan Heng.
Shinji stared down at the slightly worn bank card. Light in weight, yet in this moment, it felt heavier than a thousand pounds.
The office air seemed to still for a moment.
Kiana glanced over.
Mei slightly turned her head.
Dan Heng paused mid-typing.
The whispering between Hoshino and March 7th ceased.
Shinji exhaled slowly, gripping the card tightly. The edge dug into his palm, giving him a tangible reminder of responsibility.
On his System screen, visible only to him, the light flickered slightly.
Under "Novice Quest: Glimmer in Despair," a new, faint, yet unmistakable point of light appeared.
This road, destined to be thorny and seldom traveled, finally had its first small paving stone.
The cold, hard touch of the card sharpened his chaotic thoughts.
It wasn't enough. For launching a proper game project—especially Honkai Impact 3rd, which required top-tier art and smooth 3D action—this sum was like trying to quench a massive fire with a cup of water.
Barely enough for slightly better rendering servers or a few months' core staff salaries.
Yet its significance far surpassed the numbers.
This was trust. A bet. A dowry.
Shinji's throat tightened.
He subconsciously looked toward Bronya's corner.
She was immersed in her coding, serene, as if handing over the card had been a trivial act.
Yet that "trivial scrap of paper" had subtly shifted the atmosphere of the entire office.
"Crack."
A faint sound, like a plastic case unable to bear the pressure.
Shinji looked up to see a tiny crack forming on the edge of Kiana's phone case, decorated with a Homu pattern.
Her fingers unconsciously gripped it tighter.
Her face still bore that teasing expression: "This Young Lady will watch your performance."
But in her bright blue eyes, something had shifted. Two small, crackling flames seemed to ignite.
She stared at Bronya's back, lips twitching as if grinding her teeth.
(Stupid Bronya! How dare she run ahead! Handing over a bank card now?! Showing off her determination?! Damn it!)
Almost simultaneously, a faint scratching came from Mei's pen.
A sudden, slightly forceful line cut across her unfinished landscape sketch, originally soft and delicate.
She lifted the pen quickly, fingertips curling slightly.
Long eyelashes drooped, hiding fleeting shock and almost imperceptible annoyance.
(Bronya… she's really fast. Acting like this at a time like this… I was careless.)
Their gazes briefly met in the air, then quickly returned to their screens.
The two messages they had just sent now seemed… shallow, insufficient.
Kiana's teasing sponsorship offer and Mei's gentle amnesty invitation paled before Bronya's tangible, weighty bank card.
It was as if three people were in a race, and just as the referee shouted "Ready," one of them had silently sprinted ten meters ahead.
Could this be tolerated? Absolutely not.
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