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🕑 Added 2025-08-08 16:57:29 +0000 UTCChapter 126: Speedrunning the Guardian Ape?
The Tokyo Game Show (TGS) Summer Exhibition is the world’s second-largest gaming expo, just behind E3 in the U.S., and its influence is massive.
That’s both a blessing and a challenge.
Its huge reach draws tons of attention, but the competition is fierce!
Still, it’s a golden opportunity!
With blockbuster titles galore, players are hyped for the event, which means the pie is bigger for everyone!
But to get a slice of that pie…
“We’ve got to carve a path through this gauntlet of heavy hitters!”
Sipping oolong tea in the Sekiro/Dave the Diver booth, Tetsu Fuyukawa’s eyes darted across the rival major game studios’ displays, his mind quietly strategizing. Compared to his calm demeanor, the women around him were noticeably more on edge.
Mitei Miyano was holding it together—being an industry veteran with a naturally confident personality, she sat beside him, calmly sipping tea.
Sayoko, on the other hand, was a bundle of nerves, darting back and forth with Aunt Nogi and Kawaguchi to double-check the demo computers. As for Himawari Izumi, the slightly socially anxious girl, she was out front handing out flyers to draw in visitors.
No way around it—the Sekiro/Dave the Diver booth was seeing way less foot traffic than the other booths in Zone 1.
Yup, foot traffic was dismal!
Sekiro and Dave the Diver were both new IPs, and Tetsu Fuyukawa’s fame…
Sure, Surrounded by Beauties and The Binding of Isaac had sold over five million copies each, raking in a fortune, but that still wasn’t enough to make him a household name.
The gaming industry isn’t like showbiz. Game developers usually stay behind the scenes, not bothering with personal branding or hype. The only producers who pull in crowds on name alone are legends like Hideo Kojima, Hidetaka Miyazaki, or Shinji Mikami—the Hydra!
Kojima created Metal Gear, Miyazaki pioneered the Souls genre, and Mikami is the father of Resident Evil!
Tetsu was still light-years away from those titans on their pedestals. His personal clout wasn’t enough to draw players, and the booth’s sparse attendance caught the eye of Minister Nobi from the Demon King Saga booth across the way.
Nobi didn’t come over to gloat—workplace warfare is bloodless, after all.
He just shot a disdainful glance, and when he saw Tetsu calmly meeting his gaze while sipping oolong tea, he frowned, clearly annoyed. “Tch, acting cool? Let’s see how long you can keep that up!” he muttered to himself.
No words were spoken, but his smug satisfaction was palpable as he compared the bustling crowd at his booth to Tetsu’s ghost town. He was already plotting how to roast Tetsu at the next company meeting!
Tetsu felt Nobi’s gaze. So did Mitei Miyano.
Mitei’s delicate brows furrowed. “That guy… if he gets the upper hand today, things could get tricky later.”
Tetsu shook his head, took a sip of tea, and smiled. “No need to overthink it. This might be the last time he gets to look me in the eye.”
“Look you in the eye?” Mitei blinked, then caught his meaning.
Glancing at Tetsu’s confident expression and the near-empty booth, she gave him an amused, exasperated eye-roll. “You’re one cocky guy, you know that?”
“I’m just stating facts,” Tetsu said with a grinning shrug.
Just then—
“Dear visitors, the new game trailers for this year’s TGS Summer Exhibition will begin playing on the large screens in each zone in five minutes. Each zone’s screen will feature games from its respective booths. The trailers will loop, so feel free to explore at your leisure. Additionally, a compilation of all zone trailers will be shown on the main plaza screen for those interested.”
A sweet announcement echoed from the venue’s ceiling. The new game trailers were about to play—or rather, TGS Summer was officially kicking off!
The crowd erupted in excitement!
Countless visitors followed their guidebooks to their favorite game zones to watch the trailers, and Zone 1, packed with major titles, was absolutely mobbed!
Not just the attendees—game companies sprang into action, sending cosplayers to the big screens to hype up the crowd!
Zone 1 turned into a chaotic carnival, and amidst the frenzy of people flocking to the screens, Tetsu finally stood up and looked at Mitei. “It’s time.”
“Alright, showtime!” Mitei grinned, nodding. She pulled out her phone, dialed a number, and directed Kawaguchi and the others to boot up the computers!
That’s right—boot up!
While everyone else was rushing to watch trailers, Tetsu wasn’t sweating them!
Or, to be precise, he wasn’t banking on a trailer to make a splash!
Sekiro had been visually remastered and had new gameplay elements, but those additions were hard to showcase in a trailer alone. And while the graphics were upgraded, they still couldn’t compete with the billion-dollar Western AAA juggernauts.
Play to your strengths, avoid your weaknesses—that’s the game!
And how to play to his strengths?
Tetsu’s plan was simple: invite top-tier global streamers and reviewers for an in-person demo!
Why were the Sekiro and Dave the Diver posters Himawari saw earlier so low-key, and why were the promotional fans so understated?
Because Tetsu had poured most of the marketing budget into securing a venue and inviting streamers!
The venue alone was a beast—renting a space at TGS big enough for twenty to thirty demo stations ate up a huge chunk of Sekiro’s early marketing budget. The rest went to flying in streamers and reviewers!
Don’t think inviting big-name streamers and critics is cheap!
For something like Black Myth: Wukong, sure, streamers might come for free or even pay their own way since the game’s hype boosts their own clout—a win-win. But Sekiro? It’s a new IP with no “first domestic AAA” gimmick.
Getting these folks to fly in from around the world meant covering not just appearance fees but also flights and accommodations!
Renting the venue and hiring streamers cost a fortune, but it was all deliberate!
Sekiro broke out not just because its parry-based combat was easy to grasp and more thrilling than Dark Souls but because players knew it was brutally hard!
That difficulty made skillful plays feel epic, and only when players felt that awe would they organically buzz about the combat system!
Making players know Sekiro is tough was the critical first step!
A trailer couldn’t convey that difficulty clearly. Without understanding the Souls-like challenge, players wouldn’t appreciate the brilliance of clutch moves. You need commentary to drive it home, and nothing beats the clout of streamers and high-profile Western reviewers!
Hype, gameplay breakdown, and discussion—that’s what Tetsu aimed to achieve at this expo, and streamers and reviewers were the perfect vehicles!
Soon, under the curious gazes of nearby studios, Kawaguchi led a swarm of reviewers and streamers into the Sekiro booth, where they started setting up cameras!
“Holy crap, Joseph? They got Joseph?”
“Tsk, tsk, did they dump all their marketing budget into streaming? Joseph’s a top-tier YouTube combat game analyst—his livestream fees aren’t cheap!”
“We worked with him once. Ten minutes cost us twenty grand!”
“Expensive, but effective. Our data shows most hardcore combat game fans in Europe follow his channel. Problem is, he’s brutally honest. Even if you pay him, he’ll call out flaws without hesitation. Inviting him to demo a game could backfire.”
“Not just Joseph! That Asian Valkyrie, IceRain, is here too! I’ve seen her vids—her skills are insane. She’s got no-damage clear guides for every major action game out there!”
“IceRain? Oh, I know her! Her playstyle’s aggressive—she loves dominating bosses! And she’s got a sharp tongue. After every no-damage clear, she roasts game devs for making weak bosses. Oh man, I’m skipping the trailer to watch her demo!”
“Holy—LowBinWay?! No way, I’m seeing LowBinWay here?! Everyone, stand up!!”
TGS Summer is the second-biggest gaming expo after E3, but they cater to different crowds.
E3’s the largest, but it’s more for developers and retailers—a business summit. TGS, though, is all about the players!
The attendees who show up in person are diehard fans, and even if they don’t know foreign streamers’ names, they recognize faces.
As a crowd of streamers poured into the Sekiro booth, rival studios started with rational analysis, but with Zone 1’s massive foot traffic, players quickly spotted the big names!
Trailers were on loop, but Sekiro’s demo was only ninety minutes!
Before long, under the “oohs” and “aahs” of rival studios, and with Tetsu and Mitei watching calmly, Sayoko and Himawari buzzing with excitement, the crowd split—some stuck to the trailers, but many flocked to the Sekiro booth!
With limited demo stations, most couldn’t play and watched from the sidelines, but Tetsu had planned for this. He’d prepped for streamer-focused marketing!
Kawaguchi and Nogi rolled out a dozen ROG monitors on mobile stands, each streaming the demo gameplay and commentary live!
“Thanks for the assist,” Tetsu said, his eyes gleaming with growing excitement as the booth filled up. He shot Mitei a grateful grin.
Mitei flicked her short hair with a playful smirk. “Please, I was in this game when you were still in diapers.”
“You,” Tetsu chuckled, shaking his head.
The tide was turning, and Mitei’s mood was loosening up, letting her playful side slip out.
Rarely seeing her like this, Tetsu smiled, but Mitei, arms crossed under her ample chest, turned with a grin. “The setup’s perfect—gear, venue, people. But whether this Wolf howls depends on how fun your game is. If it flops…”
“I know,” Tetsu cut in.
With this much hype, if the game didn’t click with players, it’d be a trainwreck!
Would this world’s players embrace a Souls-like game?
“Let’s find out!” Tetsu clenched his fists, eyes burning with anticipation.
Soon, with the recording setup ready, the streamers in the booth went live.
“Alright, good afternoon, everyone! Joseph here. As you can see, I’m in Chiba, Tokyo, for a hands-on game demo.
Yup, Tokyo Game Show, Japan. Been a few years since I was last here, but I flew out at the developer’s invite. Today, we’re checking out a game called Sekiro. According to the devs, it’s a ‘Souls-like’ game.”
Sporting headphones, controller in hand, and a long beard and hair, Joseph stood at the demo station, idly fiddling with the joystick while talking to his laptop’s livestream.
The term “Souls-like” sparked a flurry of question marks in the chat.
“Whoa, bro, you traveled far.”
“Souls-like? What’s that? (curious)”
“Japanese game? Did they just slap a new name on turn-based combat? (Doge)”
“Does it mean you fight as a ghost? Cool, I’ve always wanted to be an invisible creep! (smirk)”
Chat went wild, and Joseph, glancing at the loading screen and spotting Tetsu weaving through the booth, grinned. “Not ghosts or turn-based. This is from NTsoft’s Lightbird Studio, made by Tetsu Fuyukawa—the guy behind The Binding of Isaac.”
“Isaac’s dev?! HOOOOO! For real? His new game’s dropping this fast?!”
“Another roguelike? But why do a live demo for a roguelike?”
“Motherf—! Tell him to ditch this Sekiro crap and make Isaac DLC!”
“Sekiro? Nah. Isaac DLC? Hell yeah.”
The mention of The Binding of Isaac lit up the chat as fans recognized Tetsu’s name.
Grinning at the comments, Joseph said, “I know you all want Isaac DLC—I do too—but let’s check out this demo first. Genre? I talked to Mr. Fuyukawa, and he calls it ‘Souls-like.’ From what he said, it’s all about high-difficulty combat.”
“High-difficulty combat?! Hell yeah, brother, I live for that! Show me how tough it is! (hype)”
“Every action game brags about epic boss fights, but most suck. (fox emoji)”
“With Joseph’s skills, Fuyukawa’s probably gonna get humbled fast. (Doge)”
“Ten-minute clear! I’ll tip if you do it! Go, Joseph! (cheer)”
The mention of high difficulty sent the chat into a frenzy. Joseph’s lips curved into a confident smirk. He was a pro reviewer, not just sharp at analyzing mechanics but a skilled player too, having cut his teeth in strategy forums teaching newbies how to beat bosses.
Boss fights? That’s his bread and butter!
Feeling cocky, Joseph eagerly worked the controller. “Alright, we’re in. The demo’s got three stages: Ghostly Executioner, Blazing Bull, and Guardian Ape. Which one should we tackle first?”
“Ghostly Executioner sounds tough—save it for last!”
“Devs are sneaky! They put the hardest boss first to wow us, so the weaker ones later don’t seem as bad!”
“Makes sense! Hit Guardian Ape first! Sounds cute—wreck it!”
“Guardian Ape +1!”
“How long till Joseph clears it?”
“Three bosses? Thirty minutes, tops.”
Chat buzzed, and Joseph navigated to the Guardian Ape option. “Alright, Guardian Ape it is. Don’t stress, folks—we’ve got ninety minutes. Plenty of time to clear everything.”
Confidently, he hit confirm. The screen faded to black, then lit up, revealing a massive white ape sulking on a cliff, looming before Joseph and his viewers.
“Big boy boss? Probably just a giant target!”
“Speedrun it!”
Chapter 127: Going Viral!
The live chat was going wild, but once Joseph entered the game, he didn’t dive straight into fighting the boss. Instead, he fiddled with the controller, getting a feel for the controls. After guiding his character around the cliff’s edge, he noticed something off.
“Listen up, brothers, this boss looks like the real gatekeeper of this demo,” Joseph said, his tone growing serious as he scanned the cliff below, where the Lion Ape waited in an open, empty arena. He explained to the chat, “Know why? There are no small enemies here. In most action games, small fries aren’t just filler—they help you get used to the controls and hint at the boss’s mechanics, subtly guiding you. But this stage? It’s just the boss.”
“Scared? Just rush it!”
“Big monsters like that are usually slow. Kite it!”
“There are trees on the map. I bet you should chop them down first, or that ape might use them to swing around!”
“GO GO GO! Stop yapping and fight!”
Joseph rambled on, but the chat wasn’t having it. Still, after getting comfortable with the controls, Joseph—self-proclaimed veteran of “twenty years dominating action games”—didn’t waste more time. He maneuvered the protagonist to leap off the cliff.
“Alright, brothers, let’s teach this stinky monkey a lesson!”
No more chatter. Joseph mashed the parry button while charging at the Lion Ape, the chat erupting with “GO GO GO!”
The excitement was electric, but when the Lion Ape turned and swiped, taking out nearly half the protagonist’s health in one hit, the chat went silent.
“What the hell?! One hit takes a third of the health? Are you kidding me?!”
“Did you forget to equip armor? That damage is insane!”
“Is this forced damage?!”
“There’s gotta be healing items around! Go look!”
The chat was stunned, and Joseph’s expression turned grim. Clearly, the chat had led him astray.
Sekiro was brutally tough, and its soul-like style was a far cry from most action games. That’s why Tetsu Fuyukawa had placed Genichiro Ashina as the “blacksmith teacher” in the first stage—a boss designed to drill the game’s core “parry” mechanic into players.
Pass Genichiro, and you’d grasped the basics of Sekiro’s “clashing” combat. Smaller enemies were mostly in the first two stages, teaching players the ropes. With that foundation, the Lion Ape, while still tough, was manageable for seasoned action game players. But Joseph, egged on by the chat, skipped straight to the Lion Ape.
No surprise, then—ten seconds later, the Lion Ape’s slash triggered a blood-red “DEATH” on the screen, and the chat exploded.
“Holy crap! This boss’s stats are broken! Three hits and the protagonist’s done?!”
“And no healing flasks? This game’s gotta be bugged!”
“This is ridiculous. That kind of damage and mobility? This boss was designed to be unbeatable!”
Nobody expected Joseph to get wiped out in ten seconds. The chat went ballistic, not questioning Joseph’s skill but slamming Sekiro’s difficulty.
Joseph stayed quiet, his face serious as he kept practicing the parry button. As the game restarted, he began to adapt to the Lion Ape’s patterns. The sound of clashing blades filled the stream, and the chat’s tone started to shift.
As the gameplay clicked, the chat’s complaints about Fuyukawa turned into shouts of “Don’t get greedy!” and “What the hell, that hit can’t be parried?!”
The vibe changed fast!
This was why Fuyukawa chose Sekiro as his first souls-like project. Its combat was punishing but intuitive—parry, parry, parry! Once Joseph nailed a few perfect parries and explained the posture bar, the audience quickly grasped the game’s core. With no complex skill trees, even viewers could chime in with “Parry it!” or “Go for the stab!” The stakes of every swing and parry were so high that a single mistake sparked heated debates in the chat.
The engagement was unreal, with plenty to talk about!
Almost visibly, Joseph’s stream skyrocketed in popularity.
And it wasn’t just his stream!
Sekiro’s stellar boss fights were a core selling point, but the smaller enemies, the near-impossible one-versus-many combat, and the varied stealth kill angles all fueled endless player discussion.
Whether it was Joseph tackling the Lion Ape head-on or streamers starting from Genichiro and grinding through small enemies, the buzz in every stream was off the charts. As time ticked by and more viewers understood the mechanics, they started comparing strategies across streams.
The expo hall was no different!
At first, visitors just watched the screens, but soon the hall turned into a packed cyber café. The row of streamers near the entrance had crowds craning their necks to watch. When the streamer known as “Valkyrie” Bingyu played for about twenty minutes, flawlessly parrying to defeat Genichiro, the entire expo erupted!
The hall was on fire!
Part of the souls-like charm was the euphoric relief after a tense boss fight.
But it didn’t stop there!
After beating Genichiro, Bingyu was about to pick the next stage when a hidden option appeared on the selection screen: Shiranui Mai Route!
Yes!
Though the Shiranui Mai storyline lagged behind the Wolf route in development, it had a few finished boss fights. Players didn’t care about the details—they craved surprises!
Sekiro’s unique parry-focused combat, stellar boss battles, and clever small-enemy designs already wowed players. But beyond quality, content volume mattered too.
When Bingyu selected the Shiranui Mai route and a stunningly sultry female character appeared on screen, the crowd and chat went wild again!
Though based on Asuka Tsukitake’s body model and facial capture, Fuyukawa had tweaked Shiranui Mai’s design to lean into the iconic King of Fighters sexy ninja vibe. Her weapon swapped from a fan to dual blades, but she kept the red-and-white one-shoulder dress—ultra-sensual. What shocked players even more was that her combat style was completely different from Wolf’s!
This was huge!
Many games’ “new characters” were just reskins with the same old framework, but Sekiro offered two protagonists with entirely distinct playstyles.
Fresh mechanics, visuals elevated by a $70 million budget, thrilling combat, and rich content—no wonder the expo went nuts. Within an hour of the demo, word-of-mouth and Miya Miwano’s pre-planned marketing blitz set the gaming world ablaze!
The clearest sign? Area 1 of the expo was packed to the brim, with Sekiro’s booth drawing massive crowds while promo screens went ignored. Even staff from rival game companies sneaked over to check it out. Hearing shouts like “This is the action game I dreamed of!” “Damn you, Fuyukawa!” and “This producer’s a genius!” while watching the buzzing hall, Fuyukawa’s taut nerves finally began to ease.
“This Wolf is basically in the bag!” he thought, clenching his fist.
Sekiro meant far more than Surrounded by Beauties or The Binding of Isaac. The former wasn’t even a true game, and the latter’s niche audience limited its impact. The sparse crowd at the hall’s opening proved that. Those games earned him clout within NTsoft, but Sekiro was different—it was the foundation for recruiting talent when he eventually went independent.
Lost in excited thoughts, he felt a resentful glare hit him.
His peripheral vision caught a familiar figure—Minister Nobi!
Yes, Minister Nobi!
The Demon King Saga booth was practically deserted, its crowd siphoned off by Sekiro. No wonder he was fuming!
But this time, Fuyukawa didn’t meet his gaze. He just smirked and slipped into a back room. Nearby, Miya Miwano glanced at the red-faced, trembling Nobi, then at Fuyukawa’s towering silhouette, a smile curling her lips.
“A roc about to break free doesn’t bother with shrimp.”
Chapter 128: The Office Game
Sekiro is a hit!
A new storm has swept in!
No surprises there. With its stellar demo performance and spot-on marketing, Sekiro caught fire fast. Countless players are buzzing about this “soulslike” game, a unique blend that stands apart from any ARPG or action game before it!
The TGS Summer Expo is a global event, drawing eyes from both inside and outside the gaming world. For a hot topic like this, the media couldn’t possibly look the other way!
[Famous game reviewer Joseph in an interview:] “Oh, absolutely, Sekiro is a very, very, very unique action game. The first half-hour had me dying left and right—I even thought about challenging Mr. Fuyukawa to a real-life duel (laughs). But once I got the hang of the gameplay, it was a completely different beast.
You folks in the gaming press know this: a game’s success hinges on delivering positive feedback at the right place and time. And Sekiro nails this almost perfectly.
Unlike traditional games that rely on boosting stats or skill levels, Mr. Fuyukawa crafted a different kind of positive feedback loop through an incredibly tight combat system.
The boss fights are brutally tough but fair, with patterns you can learn. Thanks to the posture system, sure, the boss hits hard, but if I can parry their attacks and break their posture, I can land a deathblow!
Every perfect parry in combat delivers an insanely satisfying rush, making you feel unstoppable. Step back and look at it from a higher perspective, and you’ll see that while Sekiro looks like an action game or ARPG, its core is built on a totally unique feedback system unlike anything in modern gaming.
Mr. Fuyukawa wasn’t kidding—this really is a new genre, a game that, once fully realized, might just shock the world!”
[Legendary Japanese game designer Hideo Oshima in an interview:] “I haven’t played it myself, but last night, a friend showed me footage from the offline demo. It’s clear as day—this game is groundbreaking.
Honestly, that footage blew me away. Boss fights, positive feedback, gameplay, world-building—Sekiro nails it on every front.
What’s more, Mr. Fuyukawa knows how to surprise players. When I saw the first boss defeated in the video, followed by the sudden reveal of the [Shiranui Mai Arc], which was just as polished and unique, I knew this would be the brightest star of the TGS Summer Expo. Mr. Fuyukawa has an incredible grasp of what players want.
Hmm? Yes, I haven’t met him in person, but I suspect we’ll cross paths at the TGA soon enough (laughs). My new project? It’s already in development.”
It’s not just players talking—big names in the industry are chiming in too!
Back when Tetsu Fuyukawa boldly claimed that “soulslike games would make the world feel pain,” the media mocked him relentlessly. Now, the conversation around soulslikes is overwhelmingly positive!
And it’s not just about Sekiro itself.
The game’s quality is undeniable, but for Tetsu, its bigger purpose was to cement his reputation as a top-tier game designer, paving the way for him to go independent and recruit talent.
With this goal in mind, Miya Miyano’s marketing team didn’t just promote Sekiro—they made sure the name “Tetsu Fuyukawa” broke into the public eye for the first time, riding the wave of the game’s success.
While the outside world buzzed with excitement, Tetsu was living a calm, carefree life.
“This expo’s marketing was a massive success. Sekiro topped the trending lists on several social platforms.”
In the office, seated behind the boss’s desk, Miya Miyano raised an eyebrow at her laptop screen. “With this momentum, how about launching Dave the Diver next week?”
“No problem. It’ll save us some marketing costs too.”
Nearby, munching on fruit, Tetsu shrugged casually. That’s the perk of fame—not only does it make hiring talent easier, but it also cuts marketing expenses and gives you leverage in negotiations with publishers and platforms.
“Alright, then make sure the tech team’s on point.”
Miya nodded, tapping away at her laptop. After a moment, she paused. “Sent the spreadsheet. Phew—things are finally calming down a bit.”
She slipped off her clear-framed glasses, stretched lazily, and leaned back in the boss’s chair. Truth be told, it wasn’t just Tetsu who was exhausted lately—Miya was too.
On the surface, she handled marketing, but while Tetsu was the deputy director and main decision-maker, he rarely meddled in the nitty-gritty of managing Light Bird’s staff. That responsibility fell to Miya.
In simple terms, though they were technically superior and subordinate, their dynamic was more like subordinate-superior. Tetsu steered the ship, while Miya handled the detailed work.
It was an odd setup, but—
“It’s kinda nice.”
Glancing at Tetsu, who was still eating an apple and scrolling through game data on his tablet, a flicker of relaxation and contentment passed through Miya’s eyes.
Yes, contentment!
Sure, as the director, playing second fiddle to her deputy sounded strange and initially grated on her strong personality. But over time, she found their dynamic surprisingly harmonious.
Tetsu had a knack for the big picture and could handle pressure like a champ, but he had little interest in micromanaging or staff oversight. Miya, despite her bold exterior, was meticulous and patient—perfect for filling that gap.
They were a perfect complement!
With that thought, Miya’s gaze softened, turning almost… mischievous.
“You did great this time. Guess I’ll give you a little treat.”
Watching Tetsu toss aside the apple core and focus on his tablet, Miya’s lips curved into a smile. She pushed the boss’s chair back, quietly slipped off her heels, and knelt on the sofa beside him, her plump thighs wrapped in delicate black stockings. Leaning forward, she slid into his lap.
“Hm?”
Deep in his data, Tetsu blinked, looking down to see Miya’s head nestled against his stomach.
“You little…”
Though they hadn’t gone all the way yet, their playful banter had been frequent lately. Tetsu wasn’t too surprised. He ruffled her hair and grinned. “What’s with the sudden enthusiasm?”
“Lunch break’s boring. Just playing a little,” she mumbled, her voice muffled.
“Tch, always playing coy.”
Her hips arched as she leaned forward.
Tetsu rolled his eyes with a chuckle, his right hand sliding down her back to her stocking-clad hips.
Their familiar little game.
Miya shivered, her eyes glinting with a deeper allure. But as Tetsu’s hand gently pressed her head down, her cool, striking eyes widened.
“Mmph—”
A while later, a slightly limp Miya emerged from the bathroom, collapsing into Tetsu’s arms. Rubbing her sore jaw, she pouted playfully. “You jerk, you went too hard!”
“Didn’t like it?”
Feeling the weight of her curves against him, Tetsu held an apple in one hand and… well, a snow grapefruit in the other.
He offered her a bite of the apple he’d just bitten. “Who was the one getting so worked up when they could barely breathe?”
“Ugh, watch your mouth!”
Blushing, Miya shot him a mock-glare but took a bite of aapple anyway. Wriggling her hips in his lap, she propped her stocking-covered toes on the coffee table, savoring the moment before asking curiously, “So, are we finishing both high-profit-share games in the non-compete agreement before leaving, or…?”
“Depends.”
Tetsu nuzzled her fragrant shoulder, taking a deep breath.
The non-compete agreement included two small-budget games with a 30% net profit share. That was a solid deal, but…
Sekiro’s development was moving faster than expected.”
At that thought, Tetsu fully relaxed, reclining on the sofa. Feeding Miya apple slices, he gazed quietly at the ceiling.
The original Sekiro took Miyazaki’s team nearly six years.
Yes, six years.
Shocking, right? But that was largely because Sekiro, while sharing the same feedback loop as other soulslikes, was vastly different from Demon’s Souls, Dark Souls, or Bloodborne. The first year and a half of its six-year cycle was spent wrestling with design direction, leading to a mid-development overhaul. Strictly speaking, Sekiro’s actual development was closer to four years—but even that comes with an asterisk.
The original Sekiro was 13 GB, while Elden Ring was nearly 50 GB. Yet Elden Ring, with its bigger map, more bosses, and richer gameplay, also took just four years.
Clearly, the biggest factors in development time are team expertise and a clear design path.
Tetsu’s system didn’t just provide game creation methods—it also included the pitfalls and scrapped ideas the original teams encountered. No detours, no delays. Whenever his team hit a technical snag, he could solve it quickly, helping them grow fast. Plus, NTsoft’s funding and talent pool far surpassed what Miyazaki had back then.
As a result, Sekiro, barely half a year into development, was progressing at breakneck speed. Without the [Shiranui Mai Arc], it might’ve been done by year’s end!
Even with the added arc, progress was swift.
Why? The [Shiranui Mai Arc] was smaller than the main [Wolf] arc, and the “scrapped” ideas in the Sekiro data weren’t trash. Many discarded boss fights and storylines were cut due to Sekiro’s limited scope and budget, not because they were bad.
By refining these “scrapped” concepts, the Shiranui Mai arc came together quickly. And the faster the development, the closer Tetsu was to leaving NTsoft.
Rubbing his chin against Miya’s head, Tetsu noticed her tired eyes and smiled. “Forget it. Once Dave the Diver is done, I’m going all-in on Sekiro, then striking out on my own.”
Staying at NTsoft served two purposes: using their platform and resources to make triple-A games and build his name for future hiring, and earning his first big payout.
But that payout wasn’t as critical anymore.
Surrounded by Beauties and The Binding of Isaac had already brought in hefty profits. Dave the Diver and Sekiro would add even more.
While it wasn’t enough to fully fund Elden Ring’s development and marketing, game development isn’t a one-and-done cash dump. If Sekiro succeeds, he could pitch big promises to attract top talent, developing Elden Ring while working on smaller titles like Guigu Bahuang, Hades, or Don’t Starve to fund it.
The key now was nailing Sekiro. Without it, hiring talent would take longer.
Tetsu knew this, and so did Miya.
“Focusing on the big project is the right call. Plus, it’ll take some pressure off you.”
Nestled in Tetsu’s arms, Miya lazily rubbed her stocking-clad feet together. Looking up at his tired eyes, a flicker of concern passed through hers. In a rare move, she tilted her head and planted a soft kiss on the corner of his lips.
Feeling her gentle gaze and the sweet apple taste lingering on his lips, Tetsu rolled his eyes with a grin. “Please, no one climbs from nothing without getting tired. You’ve had your share of struggles too, haven’t you? And you powered through.”
The sudden sweet talk made Miya’s face flush deeper. She grabbed the hand holding her snow grapefruit. But just then, a knock at the door and the secretary’s voice broke the intimate moment.
Miya shot an annoyed glance at the door, stood up, smoothed her skirt, and said, “Alright, alright. Go double-check Dave the Diver. It’s launching in three days—don’t let anything go wrong, ah—!”
Before she could finish, Tetsu gave her hips a playful swat. He stood, adjusted his suit, and smirked. “Don’t worry about that. Also, after Dave the Diver launches, you’re keeping your promise, right?”
The “deeper, heavier” promise had been fulfilled, but the maid outfit? That had been dragged out for ages.
Seeing his teasing look, Miya glared but quickly blushed again. “F-Fine! Come to my office tomorrow at noon!”
“That’s more like it.”
“!”
Chapter 129: Shenanigans in the Backseat
Sekiro’s offline demo had sparked a wildfire of excitement outside the company, but inside NTsoft, Tetsu Fuyukawa’s reputation was soaring to stratospheric heights, like a dragon ascending at a New Year’s festival!
As he stepped out of the department head’s office, greetings rained down from all sides. Unlike before, when people acknowledged him solely for his lofty title as NTsoft’s youngest deputy director, now it was his undeniable talent earning their respect. Sure, he’d already churned out several hit games, but those were low-budget projects that didn’t fully showcase his game-making prowess. Sekiro, however, was a full-fledged AAA title under his direction—a true test of a producer’s mettle, like crafting a perfect kaiseki meal.
Now, NTsoft employees didn’t just revere his rank; they admired his ability to create a masterpiece, as if he were a master calligrapher painting a legacy with every stroke. In Japan’s corporate world, status without skill makes you a flashy idol; skill without status leaves you an overlooked worker bee. True respect demands both, and Tetsu had them in spades.
Case in point: as he passed the break room on his way to the elevator, a gaggle of female staffers erupted into excited whispers, showering him with praise as if he were the star of a J-drama. Even more amusingly, in the elevator, he ran into a few new hires from the third division—fresh-faced grads who clearly hadn’t gotten the memo about his rocky history with their department. To them, Tetsu was a rockstar, a name that cast a long shadow in the gaming world, like a revered samurai in a Kurosawa film.
Their eyes sparkled with idol-worshipping awe, and they greeted him with polite enthusiasm. One bold girl even asked for his LINE contact, her cheeks flushed like cherry blossoms. Tetsu, though, wasn’t swayed by their college-campus charm. With a friendly smile, he offered some encouraging words, gently deflected the LINE request with a smooth excuse, and stepped out of the elevator to their slightly disappointed gazes.
With Sekiro’s mid-year milestone delivered and Dave the Diver wrapped up, Tetsu finally had some breathing room. As Mitei Miyano had pointed out, he’d been running himself ragged, like a salaryman pulling all-nighters before a big presentation. Back in his office, instead of diving into more work, he did something rare: he pulled a game controller from his drawer, sank into his plush boss’s chair, and fired up The Binding of Isaac. Roguelikes were the perfect time-killer, a mental palate cleanser as soothing as a quiet moment at a Kyoto temple.
Halfway through a run, Sayoko popped into the office. No big deal—just a heads-up that Himawari was performing at a music bar tonight, and since the gig would end after the subway shut down, she asked if Tetsu could pick her up.
Picking up Himawari after her gigs was routine, and with Sayoko able to drive, Tetsu wouldn’t even need to take the wheel. He nodded easily, but as Sayoko turned to leave, he caught her by the waist and pulled her into his lap.
“Play some games with me,” he said with a grin.
The oversized boss’s chair was soft and reclined perfectly. With Sayoko’s curves nestled against him, Tetsu kept his hands on the controller, focused on the screen.
“Hmph, Tetsu-kun, you’re such a straight-laced gamer,” Sayoko teased, puffing out her cheeks in mock annoyance as she settled into his lap.
They were long past the early days when a playful squeeze would leave her blushing like a schoolgirl. Knowing Tetsu’s… enthusiastic tastes, Sayoko had started dressing for convenience—think stretchy pencil skirts and, ahem, strategically “distressed” stockings. To keep his gaming view clear, she draped herself over him, arms around his neck, her body pressed close.
As sunlight streamed through the floor-to-ceiling windows, bathing the reclined chair in a warm glow, Tetsu let out a soft gasp, still gripping the controller. Sayoko, in full “autopilot” mode, matched his rhythm. In this blissful, carefree moment, quitting time rolled around fast.
Normally, Tetsu and Sayoko would head straight home for dinner, especially with Fate’s crunch time looming. But Sekiro’s trailer had blown expectations out of the water, easing the pressure on Fate’s production. So, when they reached the underground parking garage at 5 p.m., Mitei Miyano was already there, leaning against her sleek black BMW like a model at a car show.
“Wanna hit the dojo tonight?” she asked.
“Sure, we can grab dinner too,” Tetsu replied, sliding into the car. Glancing at the backseat, where Sayoko and Mitei were chatting like old friends, a mischievous smirk tugged at his lips.
Lately, not only had Sekiro’s development been blazing fast, but Sayoko and Mitei’s bond had grown tighter than a festival drum. They weren’t quite at the point of, say, posing together by the office windows, but Sayoko now packed an extra bento for Mitei at lunch, and on weekends, Mitei would occasionally drag her shopping. The trio often hit the nearby dojo for boxing, yoga, or a swim to unwind—a lifestyle as comfortable as slipping into a yukata after a long day.
Driving the BMW, they soon arrived at the high-end, members-only dojo where Tetsu had first sparred with Mitei.
“How about we renovate the house once things settle down?” Tetsu suggested, lounging by the pool after swimming two kilometers. He sipped water, catching his breath, watching Mitei kick a punching bag with the focus of a kendo master and Sayoko gracefully stretch into a yoga pose.
“Renovate? Like how?” Sayoko asked, lowering her leg from a high stretch and tilting her head curiously, her yoga mat crinkling softly.
“Add a third floor for storage and a small gym,” Tetsu said, climbing out of the pool to help lift her leg higher. “The parking’s too small too.” Their old house was fine for three, but things were changing. Himawari, now in college, was gigging more and would need her own car soon.
Sayoko, past thirty but still radiant, had started feeling the pinch of age. Though her skin rivaled a twenty-something’s, she’d begun splurging on skincare and leaned harder into fitness. Tetsu, too, wanted more than just running for exercise—punching bags were way more satisfying, and a home gym would be more convenient than trekking to a dojo. Plus, watching Sayoko’s yoga pants hug her curves sparked some… motivation.
Sayoko nodded. “Whatever you decide, Tetsu-kun, I’m good with it.”
“What are you two chatting about?” Mitei called, strolling over after her bag-kicking session. Without hesitation, she plopped onto a yoga mat, sipping water and casually resting her flushed, post-workout foot on Tetsu’s knee as he knelt to help Sayoko. Her expression practically screamed, “Rub it, big guy.”
Tetsu, however, wasn’t falling for it—not while he was busy with Sayoko’s leg. With a sly grin, he grabbed Mitei’s calf and kneaded it firmly.
“Ow! You jerk!” Mitei yelped, springing up as the intense post-workout massage hit like a sake-fueled karaoke session. She retaliated by chomping down on his hand, and the two dissolved into playful chaos.
Sayoko shook her head with a fond smile. Mitei always acts like a kid around Tetsu-kun, she thought.
After a bit of roughhousing, Tetsu “captured” Mitei’s “snowy peaks,” leaving her flushed and defeated. As he switched to a gentler massage, her indignation melted into a shy pout. Sipping water, she asked, “So, what’s this about renovating?”
Sayoko recapped their chat, and Mitei’s eyes lit up. “Oh! Didn’t you say your neighbor’s selling their place? You could buy it, knock down the wall, and expand.”
Tetsu’s neighborhood, laid out like the grid-like homes in Crayon Shin-chan, had adjoining garden walls. Buying next door and merging the properties would create plenty of space, but Tetsu shook his head. “Thought about it, but it’d be too big for just three people—feels empty.”
“Fair enough,” Mitei mused, her eyes thoughtful, like a strategist pondering a shogi move.
They didn’t linger on the topic. Soon, Mitei dragged Tetsu to the tatami mats for a sparring session, while Sayoko, chuckling, finished her yoga and slipped into a swimsuit for a dip in the pool.
Amid the playful banter and workouts, time flew by like a summer breeze. As night fell over Tokyo, the freshly showered trio stepped out of the dojo onto the lively streets.
Freshly bathed, both women were stunning, their allure as magnetic as a geisha’s grace. Naturally, when Tetsu walked into a conveyor-belt sushi restaurant with two gorgeous women, heads turned—some with envy, others with gossip. But the trio, lost in their own world, laughed, ate, and chatted, the atmosphere as warm as a family gathering at a ryokan.
After dinner, though, Tetsu’s night took a turn. With no urgent work and Himawari’s pickup later, neither Sayoko nor Mitei was in a rush to head home. Instead, they dragged him to Ginza for a shopping spree.
Sayoko, newly obsessed with skincare, had unlocked a new level of shopping fervor, like an otaku discovering a rare figurine. Mitei, a shopaholic by nature, never wore the same outfit twice—always switching up her skirts, necklaces, or bags, her style as dynamic as a Tokyo fashion runway.
To outsiders, Tetsu looked like a lucky guy escorting two beauties, but laden with shopping bags, he could only sigh. Still, being the bag-carrying sidekick had its perks.
After indulging in ice cream on the mall’s top floor, they returned to the parking garage. Mitei slid into the driver’s seat, while Sayoko, her face a mix of excitement and shyness, pulled Tetsu into the backseat.
This bold?! Tetsu thought, stunned but delighted by their audacity, like stumbling into a hidden onsen.
Mitei, though, wasn’t that open-minded yet. As things heated up in the backseat, she kept her eyes glued to the road, avoiding the rearview mirror like it was a forbidden scroll.
“Four headlights, a long road ahead,” Tetsu muttered with a grin, savoring the moment.
Chapter 130: Going Commando
The black BMW pulled up on the bustling streets of Ginza.
“Phew—you get way too excited every time we’re out in the open,” Tetsu Fuyukawa said, stepping out of the car after changing into a spare pair of jeans. Moving from the air-conditioned interior to the warm summer night air, he shook out the collar of his black T-shirt.
“Hey, don’t say that, Tetsu-kun!” Sayoko, her cheeks still flushed, glanced shyly at the passersby. But recalling the thrill from earlier, she hooked her arm around Tetsu’s with a mix of bashfulness and charm, pouting softly, “Hmph, are you saying you didn’t enjoy it?”
“It was pretty fun, but chances like that don’t come often,” Tetsu replied with a teasing grin.
Sayoko blinked, then caught his meaning.
They’d had their share of fun in the car before, but usually when parked. This time, though, it was a wild ride—engine roaring from Ginza’s 8th block to Yaza’s 2nd block. Embracing while the scenery flashed by outside was a fresh thrill, especially since they rarely had a driver.
“Tetsu-kun, you’re such a perv,” Sayoko said, shooting him a shy glare.
Just then, Mitei Miyano, exuding allure in her sharp heels, strutted over after parking the car.
“Why’re you both staring at me?” Under the night sky, dressed in a sleek OL uniform, Mitei brushed back her wind-tousled short black hair, looking puzzled.
What’s with the looks?
Tetsu didn’t hold back, his eyes glinting mischievously. “How about next time Sayoko drives?”
“Huh?!” Mitei froze, but the scene she’d glimpsed in the rearview mirror flashed through her mind.
A flush crept across her cool, elegant face. Noticing the curious stares from passersby, she shot Tetsu an annoyed yet playful glare. “In your dreams! Come on, let’s shop! Ignore this lecherous jerk!”
With that, she snatched Sayoko from Tetsu’s side and dragged her toward the nearby Lancôme store, but…
“She’s still such a tsundere,” Tetsu muttered, chuckling as he watched Mitei’s hips sway more than usual—a clear “provocation.” Seeing the two women arm-in-arm like besties out shopping, he shook his head with a smile and followed.
Famous director Wong Kar-wai once said, “Women are at their most beautiful at night.”
He wasn’t wrong. People get more emotional at night, and the romantic vibe is stronger than during the day.
Under Ginza’s neon glow and the soft moonlight, Mitei and Sayoko radiated a dreamy allure. Their curves, softened by the interplay of light and shadow, were even more captivating than in broad daylight.
No doubt about it—trailing behind these two, Tetsu drew every eye and plenty of jealous glares. But he was used to it by now.
They shopped, ate, and had fun, and as the night deepened, the trio arrived at the bar where Himawari Izumi was performing tonight.
Calling it a bar was a bit of a stretch. With a live band, it wasn’t the kind of place where you chug drinks and dance to a DJ. It was more like a trendy Japanese “seibar” like Helens back home—a chill spot for young people to drink, chat, and play games. But being in Ginza, the vibe and prices were a cut above.
Still, the music was loud. As soon as Tetsu stepped inside, the bass hit him like a wave, the floor vibrating underfoot.
“Man, it’s been forever since I’ve been to a place like this,” Mitei said, sliding onto a sofa near the stage with Sayoko in tow. The lively atmosphere softened her usual cool demeanor, replaced by a spark of excitement.
Tetsu grinned at her expression. “Back in school, you’d dream of hitting bars with friends to let loose. But once you’re working, the word ‘drinks’ just means a headache, right?”
“Duh. Drinking with friends is fun and relaxing. Drinking for work is just networking. Totally different,” Mitei said, rolling her eyes.
But her expression dimmed slightly. Glancing at the lively young crowd, she shook her head with a wistful smile. “Time flies, doesn’t it? I’ve been working for years, and coming back to a place like this feels… out of place. The friends I used to party with—I barely hear from them anymore.”
People are shaped by their environment, and Mitei’s sudden melancholy was contagious. Tetsu flagged down a server to order a strong cocktail, then turned to her with a grin. “Come on, don’t get all sappy like a kid. Besides, we’re all here, aren’t we? Let’s drink!”
“Hmph, you and your big mouth,” Mitei huffed, shooting him a look. But hearing “we’re all here” chased away her gloom, replaced by a warm sweetness.
She wrinkled her nose at Tetsu, then grabbed the menu from the server.
As someone who handled marketing and company management, Mitei had dealt with plenty of business dinners in her early career, so she knew her way around a drink menu. She and Sayoko huddled together, whispering about which cocktails sounded best. Knowing they’d get a designated driver later, they went all out, ordering several different flavors.
Tetsu didn’t stop them.
Watching the server bring out cocktail after cocktail—including one set ablaze with a lighter—Tetsu had a hunch he’d be carrying both women to the car later. But it was the weekend tomorrow, and his motto was: if you’re gonna play, play hard.
Clearly, Mitei and Sayoko felt the same.
Once the drinks and snacks arrived, the two dragged Tetsu into a dice game.
Two gorgeous, curvy women playing dice with him drew envious stares from nearby tables—mostly guys with fewer women in their groups. But when they saw it was two against one, their looks turned amused.
Dice games ramp up the drinking pace, especially two-on-one.
Let’s see you handle two hotties!
Drink till you drop, buddy!
But they were in for a disappointment.
In his past life, Tetsu had built his career from scratch, and drinking with clients was par for the course. For a businessman, socializing often meant bar hopping, and some arrogant clients would play dirty—half a shot for a full glass, often with seasoned bar girls who could drink and dice all night.
One-on-two? Tetsu had handled one-on-four before. But Mitei was no slouch either.
The two of them threw dice with cunning, each move layered with tricks that left Sayoko dazed. Hilariously, Sayoko was a total newbie at this—her beginner’s luck was unreal. She rolled multiple perfect sets, leaving Tetsu reeling. When she saw his pained expression as he downed another drink, Mitei high-fived her, and the two collapsed on the sofa, laughing hysterically.
A few drinks in, the table’s vibe was electric. When Tetsu lost to Sayoko again, and Mitei canceled the remaining cocktails to order two cases of beer, a petite girl in a dark gothic dress strode over, drawing eyes from all around.
“Hey, are you guys crazy?! Drinking this much?!” Himawari Izumi planted her hands on her hips, her black bow puffing up as she glared.
She was trying to look fierce, but her cute face had zero intimidation.
After two cocktails, Mitei was only slightly tipsy. Leaning an elbow on the table, she propped her chin and teased, “Grown-up stuff, kiddo. Best stay out of it.” Her tipsy eyes flicked to Himawari’s flat chest.
“You!” Himawari bristled, her weak spot hit.
But she was all bark, no bite. Feeling the stares from the crowd and knowing she couldn’t outtalk Mitei, she plopped down next to Tetsu in a huff. Mitei, still in a playful mood, teased again, “What’s a kid like you doing here if you’re not drinking?”
“Hey, she’s performing soon. Ease up,” Tetsu said, chuckling as he lit a cigarette.
But then, to his shock, Himawari grabbed his half-empty cocktail and chugged it in one go—glug glug glug—before slamming the glass down.
Bold!
She glared at Mitei. “Who says I can’t—who says I can’t drink?! Don’t underestimate me, you big-chested bully—hey, why’re you laughing?!”
The cocktail was vodka-based, way stronger than beer. Downing half a glass in one go left her choking, her words slurring. Her “fierce” outburst had no bite, and Tetsu and Mitei burst out laughing. Even tipsy Sayoko covered her face, giggling.
So embarrassing!
Himawari was losing it, her face beet red, ready to explode again. But as she reached for the last cocktail, Tetsu exhaled a puff of smoke and stopped her with a grin, sliding over a glass of warm milk. “Alright, we get it, you’re a heavyweight. But save the drinking for after your performance.”
“Hmph, that’s more like it,” Himawari huffed, taking the out. She shot Mitei another glare, sipped the milk to settle the alcohol, and was about to say something to Sayoko when a chubby-cheeked, adorable girl rushed over.
“Koi, we’re on soon! What’re you doing—oh! Good evening, Team Leader Fuyukawa! Minister Miyano! Director Honai!” The chubby-faced girl started to drag Himawari away but froze when she saw Tetsu and the others.
Honestly, seeing Himawari with Tetsu and Sayoko wasn’t shocking—they often picked her up. But Mitei Miyano? She’d only met her once, when NTsoft’s executive Honda took them to sign contracts. And she was here, drinking this late with Tetsu?!
And drinking that much?!
Bowing quickly, the chubby-faced girl stole glances at the scene, her awe for Tetsu skyrocketing. Even as Himawari dragged her backstage, she didn’t dare look directly at them.
“You scared the poor girl,” Mitei teased, smirking at Tetsu.
“Me? Please, that was all you,” Tetsu shot back, rolling his eyes with a grin. “I’m a hit with the young ladies.”
“Tch, shameless!” Mitei scoffed at his playful gaze, nudging his foot with her sharp heel. But before he could react, she stood with a giggle, grabbing her purse. “I’m hitting the restroom. When I’m back, I’m drinking you under the table!”
“That woman,” Tetsu chuckled, shaking his head as she sashayed away.
Just then, to his surprise, a dice cup slid in front of him.
“Let’s go one-on-one,” Sayoko said.
“…” Tetsu gave her an amused, speechless look. “You always start out bold, then end up begging for mercy.”
Normally, Sayoko would blush at the innuendo.
But with alcohol and the bar’s vibe fueling her, she wrinkled her nose cutely, shaking the dice cup. “That’s different. In bed, you’re the boss, Tetsu-kun. But at dice? I’m not losing to you.”
“That confident, huh?”
“Hmph, of course! Someone lost to me several times earlier,” she teased.
“Tsk, tsk. Wanna make it interesting with a bet?”
“A bet?” Sayoko tilted her head, puzzled.
Tetsu leaned in with a grin, whispering, “If I win five rounds in a row, come Monday, you’re going commando under your uniform.”
“Eek! Tetsu-kun, you’re too much!” Sayoko squeaked.
They were practically an old married couple, having tried every position at home, but in public, she was still conservative. The idea of “going commando” made her heart race, but remembering her winning streak, she pouted. “Fine! Commando it is! But if I win, what do I get?”
“Anything you want,” Tetsu said, winking.
“Deal!” With alcohol and the stakes pumping her up, Sayoko was all in.
