"Yu-Gi-Oh!" John's gaze lingered on the project files displayed on his monitor.
Truthfully, in his dream memories, the influence of Pokémon had spread far wider. Some people might not even know what Pokémon truly was, yet almost everyone recognized that iconic golden electric mouse, Pikachu.
Just like Mickey Mouse or Donald Duck, Pokémon possessed a unique universal appeal. Its ability to transcend generations came from its accessible style, heartfelt storytelling, and charm that resonated with audiences of all ages.
Of course, pet-collecting and creature-raising games already existed throughout the market. Similar concepts were everywhere. Success in this genre wasn't achieved overnight; it required patience, subtle worldbuilding, and steady expansion before players fully embraced it.
Looking at the GDD draft of Pokémon displayed on his desktop, along with the Pokémon creature data reconstructed from his dream memories, John understood this reality clearly. There was also another crucial issue: development difficulty.
Compared to Yu-Gi-Oh!, Pokémon was far more demanding. The story framework behind Yu-Gi-Oh! was enormous, but when stripped down to its gameplay foundation, the core was relatively straightforward. At its heart, it revolved around card battles.
Pokémon was different. Although its combat system also relied heavily on turn-based mechanics and in some ways shared similarities with Yu-Gi-Oh!, the real appeal of Pokémon wasn't merely combat; its magic came from exploration. Venturing into unfamiliar lands, discovering hidden mysteries, meeting strange creatures, and challenging gyms waiting beyond the horizon. Large open maps. Environmental modeling. Creature systems. World interactions.
Every aspect dramatically increased technical requirements and production costs. On top of that, John intended to bring it to VR, a completely new platform that demanded even greater attention to detail.
Inside Susanne's apartment, she finally finished submitting the latest chapter of the Resident Evil comic adaptation to her editor for review. Another serialization is complete.
Stretching lazily across her chair, Susanne kicked one foot outward while her husky aggressively chewed on one of her slippers nearby. Life had become surprisingly comfortable.
Ever since the company had been acquired by PixelPioneers Games, Susanne's career trajectory had steadily improved. Through her own efforts, she had secured responsibility for illustrating Resident Evil. And with Resident Evil becoming increasingly successful, her compensation naturally rose alongside it. Her artwork fees alone weren't especially extraordinary, but that never bothered her.
The real value came elsewhere in Resident Evil's revenue-sharing agreement. Although her percentage wasn't large, it still far exceeded ordinary illustration payments. She was already satisfied. Very satisfied.
She understood her own abilities clearly. Even now, despite constant learning and improvement, she still considered herself a competent but ultimately second-tier artist.
Resident Evil's success wasn't hers alone. The company's story direction. Professional screenplay adaptation. Storyboard planning. Those were equally important. Series like Resident Evil and Metal Gear followed established IP structures.
Artists assigned to those projects were important, but not irreplaceable. The style had already been determined, and the direction already chosen; no one could casually change an established visual identity.
Still, satisfaction didn't erase ambition; she wanted something more. An original work. A creation that truly belonged to her.
"Chris's story arc in Resident Evil is finished..." Susanne whispered softly. "It's time. I should tell my editor. I don't want to keep drawing adaptation comics forever. I want to create originals."
Taking a deep breath, she sat before her computer, and a decision was made. She opened the company messenger, found her editor, and placed both hands on the keyboard. Words slowly appeared.
Then, a notification suddenly popped up. "When you're free, come back to the company. There's a new project internally. President John is personally handling story development. This will likely become the company's next major title. The concept is fresh, so the future prospects are outstanding. Your Resident Evil assignment just wrapped up, so I've already secured you a review slot. Draw two chapters' worth of content samples and submit before the end of the month."
At the same time, Susanne noticed something else: her editor's status message had changed. "New internal company project. Recruiting A-level artists and above. Open internal review applications. Future potential is extremely promising. Limited opportunity."
"New game? President John personally directing it? The company's next flagship project? Brand-new concept? Outstanding future potential?" Susanne stared at the message, then the attached file, and then the unfinished resignation message sitting quietly in her chat window.
Silence. Slowly, she turned. Her husky was currently locked in a fierce battle against her slipper.
She crossed her arms and asked, "What do you think? Should I pursue my dream? Should I reject this? If I should reject it... Shake your head."
"Woof!" The husky, currently pinned awkwardly beneath the slipper it had somehow trapped itself under, flailed dramatically. Its eyes widened as its head couldn't even move.
Susanne nodded seriously. "Okay. I understand."
She rotated back toward her computer. Backspace, backspace...
Her carefully prepared speech disappeared completely. In the end, only a sentence remained, plus an emoji. "Okay, thanks editor, received! (^o^)/~"
After all, being sincere mattered most. Opening the attached package, Susanne entered the project files. A moment later, she froze. Card game rules?
Scrolling backward several pages, Susanne narrowed her eyes, then quietly looked toward the document's word count. Her expression slowly changed.
"No plot outline? Just settings? Tens of thousands of words? What is this?! Card battles? A comic centered entirely around a card game? That's actually... never really appeared before." Complaints aside, she continued reading seriously.
After getting deeper into the material, surprise gradually replaced confusion. Most of the content wasn't difficult; it was an explanation.
System design.
Game mechanics.
Rules. Monsters.
Summoning requirements.
Low-star monsters are summoned directly.
Higher-level monsters require sacrifices.
Special summons.
Effect monsters.
Different mechanics layered together. Complicated yet surprisingly logical.
"Every card needs illustrations too..." Susanne muttered. "Do they already have reference styles?"
She continued reading carefully.
Requirements.
Visual standards.
Project direction.
Those were the truly important parts.
Meanwhile, inside PixelPioneers Games.
John sat together with Evelien and the art team. On-screen, several original character designs for Yu-Gi-Oh! were displayed. Whether in dream memories or reality, whether adapted through comics first or games first, John's goal had always remained clear. Games came first.
Comics, animation, and expanded universe material existed to broaden influence, reach more audiences, teach gameplay naturally, and strengthen the IP. Not because they lacked importance but because everything ultimately served the core objective, the game itself. That was the true foundation.