Zoey Parker's eyes shook, her jaw slack. Gus Harper's face mirrored hers, frozen in shock.
"Six… almost seven million?" Gus stammered, his voice catching.
He'd banked on Plants vs. Zombies being a hit, but this? This was beyond wild.
Zoey was floored. Nearly seven million units sold in a week! At $2 a pop, that's $13.84 million in sales. After IndieVibe's 25% cut, $10.38 million remained. Subtract the $1.15 million budget, and WindyPeak cleared $9.23 million in profit. With a 10% dividend, that's $923,000 total, and her 40% share? $369,200.
Holy crap.
Her heart raced. On the drive home, she'd calculated a 750,000-unit sales cap for the 12-day cycle, banking on a $25,000 loss for a $375,000 rebate. But this? No loss, no tricks—just pure sales matching her rebate dreams. In seven days. Five more days, and it might've crushed her wildest hopes.
This was Gus, an indie dev, going toe-to-toe with a system no one could beat. Sure, she'd tweaked the stakes to soften the challenge, but still—Gus was just a guy, not a corporate giant, and he'd pulled it off.
The game's universal appeal—cartoon style, simple controls, $2 price tag—and dual PC-mobile platforms fueled the fire. For Zoey, it was her first taste of profit rivaling her rebate schemes. Shock, thrill, and pride collided, her gaze burning as she looked at Gus.
Gus exhaled, raking a hand through his hair, disbelief etched on his face. As a game dev veteran, he knew this wasn't just about cash. Plants vs. Zombies was a milestone. Five, ten, twenty years from now, it'd be a legend in gaming history—a cultural touchstone, like Titanfall's bold debut or Silent Hill P.T.'s eerie triumph. His scalp tingled, heart pounding as he stared at the projector screen, shaking his head.
Zoey grinned at his reaction. Gus was always cool-headed, a steady hand steering WindyPeak. He'd crack jokes, sling witty barbs, but never flinched, as if every win was expected. This time, though, the numbers cracked his calm, making him feel real, raw. Her chest fluttered.
She grabbed a Polaroid camera from under the coffee table and tapped his shoulder. "Hey, Gus."
"Yeah?" He turned, eyebrows raised.
"Let's capture this," Zoey said, blushing as she nudged closer, lifting his arm to slip under it. "Squeeze in, or we won't fit with the screen."
Gus paused, then smirked. "Camera's got a timer. Let's set it up for a wider shot."
He took the camera, placing it on the couch's armrest, adjusting the timer. Zoey's smile faltered, her bare feet curling awkwardly on the rug. Had she been too forward?
Gus returned, standing beside her. "Ready?"
"Yeah," Zoey mumbled, hands clasped, forcing a smile, feeling oddly formal.
"You posing like that?" Gus teased.
"What else?" Zoey blinked, confused.
Before she could react, Gus scooped her up—one arm around her waist, the other under her knees. Zoey yelped, instinctively looping her arms around his neck as he lifted her princess-style.
Flash!
The camera snapped. In the photo, Gus's hair was mussed, a mischievous grin on his face. Zoey, cradled in his arms, beamed with surprise and joy, her eyes sparkling like stars.
"Gaming Miracle! Plants vs. Zombies Hits 6.92M Sales in One Week!"
"WindyPeak's Cartoon Hit Outshines Decade's Best!"
"Dual-Platform King! 7M Units Sold, Smashing To the Moon's Record!"
"Plants vs. Zombies: The Year's Top Seller!"
The gaming world erupted. Seven million units in a week—nearly a million daily—stunned everyone. WindyPeak's Titanfall had already shaken the industry, its clash with Komina legendary, its Game Developers Conference buzz unmatched. But this? A casual tower defense game for IndieVibe Game Fest, with cartoon vibes and no skill barrier, dropped a bomb on the industry.
From local forums to global media, the shockwave spread. Players knew it was popular—friends, family, even strangers played it—but 7 million? Unreal.
Social media lit up:
GameRiser: "7M?! WindyPeak's on a rampage! (Shock)"
PixelFanatic: "Woke up thinking I misread the digits. Nope, it's real. (Stunned)"
DataDiver: "I'm done! PacificTech's data team spent all night crunching this! (Fuming)"
JoyStickJunkie: "PacificTech's pain is real lol (Laugh)"
IndieAce: "Heard Nexlify's marketing team got chewed out for missing this fest. They're crying 'we're doomed' in chats (Wink)"
TowerTactician: "Make more tower defense NOW! (Hype)"
NoMushrooms: "Chill, let us sip some of this success soup…"
Globally, the buzz was louder. Plants vs. Zombies didn't just dominate—it overshadowed Ace Heroes, a $600M FPS juggernaut from Firebird Studio. With 2,000 developers and motion-cabin gameplay, Ace Heroes blended story, combat, and battle royale, hyped as the ultimate shooter. Launched the same week, it should've owned the spotlight.
But Plants vs. Zombies stole it. The two games weren't even rivals—motion-cabin vs. PC/mobile, big-budget vs. lean. Yet, Plants vs. Zombies's 7M-unit explosion buried Ace Heroes in media coverage.
SNG Games: "A tower defense gem! My pea shooter got chomped, and I was hooked!"
Global Players: "6.9M sales cement it as a global hit. Simple yet addictive, it's for everyone!"
SLGamers: "This game proves gaming's for all ages—kids, grandparents, everyone!"
Hummingbird Forum: "WindyPeak nailed the dual-platform formula. If there's ever a 'Greatest Game Award,' this is a contender!"
Player comments flooded in:
"7M?! Insane!"
"It's only $2, so revenue's not Outlast-level, but the reach? Wild."
"Ace Heroes got robbed. Should've been their week."
"Firebird's crying somewhere."
"First Komina, now Veventi. WindyPeak's unstoppable."
"My professor was playing it in class!"
Zoey set down her concealer, stepping back. Gus checked the mirror—his shiner was barely noticeable. "Not bad."
"Told you," Zoey said, tilting her head. "Those makeup tutorials weren't for nothing."
They grabbed their jackets. Gus tossed her the keys. "Let's roll, driver. House-hunting time."