"So, what, we're still throwing out smoke bombs?" Luke Bennett says, his jaw practically on the floor.
Gus Harper's team is stunned. Their boss is the king of sneaky plays, and now he's tossing the whole playbook? Jake Rivers and Zoey Parker are staring at him like he just grew a second head.
Gus just flashes that sly grin of his. "Tatsuya's too damn sharp. Guy's paranoid and careful as hell. We're not pulling a fast one on him."
Tatsuya Moritani sniffed out Gus's game, but Gus was one step ahead.
WindyPeak's got a history of playing dirty like this. They've pulled the "fake project" trick before, hyping To The Moon to hide Outlast, then dropping them like a bomb on Komina's Silent Hill.
Sato Yuki tipped Gus off way back: Tatsuya was already suspicious, not buying that WindyPeak was just cooking up a small pixel game like To The Moon. He knew they were gearing up for a big swing at Komina.
Too bad Keizo Kamijo was too busy playing favorites with Yamamoto Studio to listen. Komina got cocky, hit the gas, and slammed right into WindyPeak's trap.
This time, Gus knew Tatsuya was the one to watch.
The internet might eat up Garden Warfare as WindyPeak's big project, but Tatsuya? No way he's falling for it. Dude's too smart.
He and Gus go way back, swapping big ideas about gaming's future over drinks in Japan. Gus let slip that WindyPeak was chasing bold, game-changing titles to take over the world. Tatsuya knows Gus has the skills to make it happen.
And Gus? He knows Tatsuya's no slouch either. The guy's a mastermind with a killer nose for the industry. Komina's stranglehold on the Eastern Hemisphere's somatosensory cabin scene? That's Tatsuya's brainpower at work.
If anyone at Komina makes Gus sweat, it's Tatsuya Moritani.
"He's got a gut like a bloodhound and the balls to back it up," Gus says, leaning back. "Bet he was already onto us planning a hit before I even dialed his number."
"So you just… told him everything?" Zoey says, smirking and throwing up her hands.
"Yep," Gus nods. "If I keep quiet, he'll spill to Komina. But if I come clean, he's stuck holding the bag."
Tatsuya's careful, but he's got a code. That whole "oops, I liked a post" mess showed he's got an old-school sense of honor—think samurai vibes, but modern. To him, loyalty and doing right by friends come first.
WindyPeak and Komina might be throwing punches, but Gus and Tatsuya are still buds. To Tatsuya, Gus is a friend, and you don't screw over a friend.
If Gus had stayed mum, Tatsuya could've ratted him out to Komina, no sweat—it'd be fair play. But now that Gus laid it all out, Tatsuya's honor puts him in a bind. Snitching would make him the jerk, and he'd never live that down.
"Man…" Luke and Jake trade looks, floored. "People still roll that way?"
"But what if Tatsuya flips and tells Keizo anyway?" Luke says, palms up. "It's just you two talking. Nobody's gonna know he squealed."
"He'd know," Gus says, tapping his chest with a grin. "You can play a good guy with his own rules, but you can't make him ignore his heart."
"Huh…" Jake and Luke blink, half-getting it, and glance at Zoey. "Yo, boss, what's he mean?"
Zoey rolls her eyes so hard they might fall out. "God, you two are thick. It means you can only guilt-trip someone who's got a conscience."
She shoots Gus a double thumbs-up, grinning. "You're a crafty son of a gun, you know that?"
Gus's move is next-level shady.
Tatsuya was this close to storming Keizo Kamijo's office, ready to blow the whistle on WindyPeak's plans for the Tokyo International Game Festival. Then Gus's call hit, and boom—Tatsuya's own honor trapped him like a mouse in a glue trap.
Komina's none the wiser, with their top studios grinding away for the festival, dreaming of wiping out past losses. Meanwhile, WindyPeak's pouring everything into Sekiro—and holy hell, it's a beast.
A somatosensory cabin action game? That's like diving into the deep end with no lifeguard. Even on a global scale, almost nobody's tried this. From the core mechanics to the visuals, they're fumbling in the dark, building it from scratch.
For Gus, the story and levels are crystal clear in his head, but turning Sekiro—a game built for consoles and PCs—into a somatosensory cabin experience? That's a whole different animal. On a controller, you're just hitting buttons to make Wolf dodge, slice, or sneak-kill. In a cabin, players are Wolf, moving their own bodies to parry, dodge, and assassinate. It's crazy complicated, and WindyPeak's got no roadmap to follow.
No wonder action games are a ghost town in somatosensory cabins. Everybody's chasing shooters, racing, or sports games—easy cash grabs. Who's got time to wrestle with action game chaos?
Even Gus, with all his game-design wizardry, is feeling the heat. He's quieter lately, burning the midnight oil, lost in his own head. Zoey's starting to worry he'll crash before Sekiro even launches.
She's never seen him this locked in. Projects like Silent Hill P.T. and Outlast were a cakewalk—tech hiccups got sorted with a quick team powwow. But Sekiro? It's a tech nightmare that never ends. Solve one problem, and two more pop up like whack-a-moles.
Zoey's gotta admit, focused Gus is kinda badass. But she's nervous. If this game tanks, it might take him down too.
So, when Gus books his flight to Tokyo, Zoey snags a ticket and hops along for the ride.
"Just got back to the hotel. How's everything back home?"
"All good, all good…"
Evening blankets Tokyo, the city humming with life.
Gus swings open his hotel room door, juggling his phone and a shopping bag stuffed with souvenirs. He drops the bag by the wall, flips on the lights, and flops onto the couch.
"Man, I'm beat," he groans. "Let's switch to video."
The call flips to video, showing Luke and Jake still camped out at WindyPeak's office.
"How'd it go?" Luke asks, leaning in.
"Smooth as butter," Gus says with a grin. "And we scored a bonus surprise."
Jake and Luke perk up, all ears.
Gus and Zoey touched down in Tokyo yesterday afternoon. Gus told Tatsuya not to bother with the airport pickup, but Tatsuya wasn't having it—he got their flight details and was waiting at the gate like a VIP greeter.
That night, Tatsuya treated them to a low-key dinner, just the three of them. With Sekiro's deadline breathing down their necks, Gus didn't mess around. He laid it out: they need a top-notch motion capture studio and actors, preferably ones who know their way around a katana.
"Sekiro needs legit samurai sword skills for the CG and cabin action data," Gus told him.
Tatsuya's eyes went wide. A somatosensory cabin action game? That's practically sci-fi in the gaming world. WindyPeak's first 3S blockbuster, and they're going all-in on a gamble?
This guy's nuts, Tatsuya thought, but he played it cool.
"Tatsuya came through big," Gus says. "He hooked us up with MOSIA Motion Capture Studio. They've worked with Komina before, even on Yamamoto's Yakuza Rush."
Luke and Jake nod, impressed. Yakuza Rush bombed for story and PR reasons, but its motion capture was slick as hell—pro-level stuff. MOSIA's a heavy hitter in the industry.
Gus didn't waste time. Yesterday, with Tatsuya setting it up, he sat down with MOSIA to talk details.
"It should've been a straight deal," Gus says. "We pay, they deliver. Easy. But then—boom—game-changer."
MOSIA's used to doing sci-fi movies and third-person PC games, where motion capture's the star. But a somatosensory cabin action game? That got their attention. They peppered Gus with questions: What's this game?
When Gus dropped "somatosensory cabin action game with a Warring States vibe," MOSIA's team was floored. A project this wild, from WindyPeak's hot streak? They were all in.
They saw a shot at glory. If Sekiro pops off, MOSIA's rep shoots through the roof. If it flops—like Yakuza Rush—they're still golden. And with Zoey's deep pockets, money's no issue.
When Gus said they needed a martial artist for katana work, MOSIA didn't just nod—they threw out a name and offered to handle the negotiations if WindyPeak was down.
"Who?" Luke and Jake ask, practically falling out of their chairs.
"Ever heard of Kenji Tanigaki?" Gus says, grinning.
They shake their heads. "Kenji Tanigaki? Nah."
"No biggie," Gus says, waving it off. "What about Rurouni Kenshin? Tanigaki's the martial artist for that series, and his crew's the Dragon and Tiger team behind those movies."