Last month, 'Frontier Legend' Game Company had already taken notice of the game 'Warship Girls Collection'—or rather, it was impossible not to notice it.
'Frontier Legend' was a comprehensive game company that handled both development and operations. Aside from online games, it also had quite a few highly acclaimed single-player titles under its banner. The construction-and-management game 'Star Ranch' and the card-collection game 'Hero Adventure' were both extremely well received in Japan. However, during routine reviews of player feedback, the company frequently saw players comparing those games to one called 'Warship Girls Collection'.
At first, Frontier Legend's operations team assumed the reviews excessively praising 'Warship Girls Collection' while belittling their own games were the work of paid internet trolls hired by another company. As a result, they began banning every player posting comments related to evaluations of 'Warship Girls Collection'.
Unexpectedly, not only did this fail to suppress those comments, but it also sparked widespread player dissatisfaction. Players criticized Frontier Legend's operations team for refusing to improve itself and for arbitrarily deleting and banning player accounts. Within a single month, the company received over a hundred physical complaint letters from players across Japan.
Only after the incident escalated to such a degree did it finally catch the attention of upper management.
As head of the Operations Department, Mizuhara Raiko immediately removed the leaders of the two game operations teams from their posts and issued a public apology. After reviewing the comments individually, all previously banned players were unbanned.
Naturally, Mizuhara Raiko also took notice of one of the primary causes behind the uproar: 'Warship Girls Collection'.
To that end, she instructed her subordinate, Kamiki Yui, to gather every piece of information related to the game. After three days of investigation, although they uncovered quite a bit about the game itself, they still could not find any official registration method. In the end, they had no choice but to spend a considerable sum purchasing a game account from a player.
Just what was so extraordinary about this game that had caused such a sensation online!?
Mizuhara Raiko instructed Kamiki Yui to put aside all other work for an entire week and focus solely on this game, compiling a comprehensive game evaluation report covering quality, enjoyment, playability, longevity, monetization potential, and prospects.
Previously, Kamiki Yui had rated 'Star Ranch' an eight and 'Hero Adventure' a nine.
But after personally testing 'Warship Girls Collection', she gave it a perfect ten.
Meanwhile, her ratings for 'Star Ranch' and 'Hero Adventure' dropped to the passing line of five.
The game systems of 'Warship Girls Collection' were probably the pinnacle of what construction-management and card-collection games could achieve.
An ordinary construction-management or card-collection game was like a pond. Without a constant influx of fresh water, it would eventually dry up.
An excellent construction-management game like 'Star Ranch' was like a great lake connected to a massive river, constantly replenished by flowing water, but even it would one day lose vitality.
As for 'Warship Girls Collection', its game system could be compared to an ocean—one capable of near-perpetual self-sustainability.
The diversity, playability, and longevity of its systems had practically reached absurd levels. It was as though someone had gathered the strengths of countless games in the same genre and fused them into a single unified masterpiece.
Based on the systems in 'Warship Girls Collection', there was still room for improvement and innovation. However, creating a design completely detached from its core framework was basically impossible. Even if someone managed it, the result could no longer truly be called a construction-management or card-collection game.
Many games were like that. Even if the terminology or gameplay changed, the underlying framework remained the same, and the feeling of playing them was still fundamentally identical.
Who exactly had created such a stunning game—one capable of changing the history of construction-management games—and why had they committed the incomprehensible act of restricting player numbers?
Mizuhara Raiko, the head of Frontier Legend's Operations Department, was naturally perceptive enough to realize there was definitely something suspicious behind all this. She happened to be the type with strong initiative, so she mobilized all her influence within the gaming industry in an attempt to uncover the true identity of the creators behind 'Warship Girls Collection', a company or team that had left behind no information other than the name Yosuganosora.
However, every effort failed.
No one in the gaming industry had ever heard of this developer.
Just as Mizuhara Raiko was about to give up, three days earlier, an employee who liked anime reported that the animation studio behind 'Magical Girl Nanoha' was also named Yosuganosora.
"Mr. Kamiyā, now that we've confirmed you are the creator of 'Warship Girls Collection', our 'Frontier Legend' Company is willing to purchase full ownership of the game for one hundred million yen. What do you think?"
After confirming Kamiyā Yuu's identity as the creator of 'Warship Girls Collection', Mizuhara Raiko immediately offered one hundred million yen to purchase ownership of the game.
Or rather, she wanted to purchase the game framework of 'Warship Girls Collection'. That way, Frontier Legend could openly and legitimately use its framework to create similar games in the future.
As she spoke the figure of one hundred million yen, Mizuhara Raiko carefully observed Kamiyā Yuu's expression.
Yet she sensed no particular reaction from him whatsoever.
One hundred million yen was more than enough to acquire an ordinary game development company. Most people would have been unable to conceal their excitement at such a figure.
Without the slightest hesitation, Kamiyā Yuu shook his head.
"I already said earlier. This game was just something I made out of personal interest."
"The value of 'Warship Girls Collection' is certainly more than one hundred million yen. Then what about one billion yen? Or perhaps you can name a specific price yourself."
Mizuhara Raiko spoke in a deep voice.
One billion yen was equivalent to roughly ten million US dollars, or sixty million RMB. To ordinary people, it was an astonishing amount of money. But in this industry, it wasn't considered especially high or especially low.
She was still probing Kamiyā Yuu's attitude.
In truth, Mizuhara Raiko had already submitted a report to upper management and ultimately secured support for a budget of three billion yen.
That amount was nearly equivalent to the development cost of a AAA single-player title.
Of course, even if a AAA game's development budget were thirty million dollars, the actual total expenditures would be far higher. Marketing alone often required funding comparable to development costs.
For example, in his previous world, the development cost of 'Halo 3' had only been around fifty million dollars. In comparison, its marketing budget reportedly exceeded two hundred million dollars.
"Even for ten billion yen, I still wouldn't sell it."
Kamiyā Yuu folded his arms and smiled indifferently.
One billion yen!
'Warship Girls Collection' truly did possess that kind of value—but only if Kamiyā Yuu could successfully operate the game.
Otherwise, no matter how fun or outstanding a game was, time would eventually eliminate it.
'Warship Girls Collection' was no exception.
—Just what kind of mindset was he bringing into this negotiation!?
Silence filled the conference room for a moment.
Mizuhara Raiko asked doubtfully, "Mr. Kamiyā's main profession is animation production, correct? As far as I know, ordinary animation studios are usually severely lacking in operating funds. With such a large sum of money, wouldn't you be able to produce the animations you love even better?"
Kamiyā Yuu froze briefly before replying with a half-smile.
"Are you serious when you say that?"
'RWBY' alone had already brought him over a hundred million dollars in box office revenue, and yet someone still thought Yosuganosora Animation Studio lacked operational funding?
"Director Raiko... Director Raiko."
Kamiki Yui tugged at Mizuhara Raiko's sleeve, then stood up and quietly explained beside her ear.
"Yosuganosora Animation Studio is the company that produced 'RWBY'."
"'RWBY'?"
"Yes. The animated film R, W, B, Y. Its worldwide box office has already surpassed nine hundred million dollars, making it one of the top ten highest-grossing animated films globally."
Kamiki Yui secretly glanced at Kamiyā Yuu while speaking hesitantly.
She found it hard to imagine that someone so young was already a true billionaire.
Yosuganosora Animation Studio had not only produced 'RWBY', but it had also distributed it. After taxes and operational expenses, the company had earned at least over a hundred million dollars in profit.
Nine hundred million dollars in box office revenue!
Since when had Japan's animation industry produced such a monstrous giant?
Mizuhara Raiko was familiar with Japan's major animation studios, and Yosuganosora had definitely never been among them.
Yet this suddenly emerging company had actually produced a film with over nine hundred million dollars in global box office revenue.
Her first reaction was disbelief.
A Japanese animation studio producing a nine-hundred-million-dollar animated film?
Still, the name 'RWBY' did sound familiar. She had indeed seen news reports about it before.
At that point, it was no longer difficult to understand why Kamiyā Yuu was completely unmoved by the numbers she offered.
Whether it was one hundred million yen, one billion yen, or even ten billion yen, to someone like him, they were probably just meaningless strings of digits.
Someone capable of creating a billion-dollar animated film could naturally create even greater wealth.
Mizuhara Raiko's heart trembled.
She stood up and bowed deeply toward Kamiyā Yuu.
"I see now. Please forgive my rudeness. I never expected Mr. Kamiyā to be the creator of 'RWBY'. No wonder you were completely indifferent to my offer to purchase ownership of 'Warship Girls Collection'. However, even if money isn't the issue, handing 'Warship Girls Collection' over to Frontier Legend would still be the best choice."
Kamiyā Yuu merely smiled silently and gestured for her to continue.
"Please forgive my bluntness, but the gameplay systems of 'Warship Girls Collection' have already been fully exposed. Major game companies are all imitating it and launching similar titles. Yet you seem to have no intention of properly operating this game. Before long, 'Warship Girls Collection' will only become the foundation upon which this entire genre rises in popularity. Even if it was merely a hobby project, allowing your creation to fade into obscurity is not an attitude a creator should have."
The gaming industry was that cruel.
And unfortunately, systems like those in 'Warship Girls Collection' were genuinely not difficult to imitate.
It was like throwing a defenseless fat sheep into a pride of lions, allowing major game companies to squeeze every last bit of value from it.
Mizuhara Raiko had voiced one of the thoughts Kamiyā Yuu himself held regarding this meeting.
One of the reasons he had handed the game over to Lin Ye for development in China was precisely because of this issue. Leaving aside the Japanese market for now, at least they could secure a foothold in the Chinese market first.
"My primary profession is animation production. Even if the hobby project 'Warship Girls Collection' becomes the cornerstone of Japan's gaming industry development, that wouldn't necessarily be a bad thing."
"If you truly thought that, you wouldn't still be sitting here talking with us. From what I know, you're an extremely busy person right now!"
Mizuhara Raiko stared sharply at Kamiyā Yuu, as though trying to pierce through his indifferent facade and expose his true thoughts.
—This woman really knows what she's doing. As expected of a business elite.
Kamiyā Yuu sighed softly.
He lowered both hands onto the table, partially covering his face. Beneath the shadows, his gaze turned equally serious and sharp as he looked at Mizuhara Raiko.
"What you said earlier was correct. Whether it's novels, animation, or games, even if the things creators make are unpopular, they're still as important to them as their own children. 'Warship Girls Collection' was indeed a game I created out of personal interest, and naturally, I have a responsibility toward it. But that doesn't mean I'm willing to sell away its ownership."
"You're hoping for an equal partnership."
Kamiyā Yuu frowned thoughtfully for a moment before replying,
"Although I still don't have a concrete operational plan for Japan, I've already handed over the operating rights for this game to a Chinese game publisher. They'll probably launch 'Warship Girls Collection' in the Chinese market around March."
"While the Chinese gaming market is certainly a huge cake, it still isn't mature or refined enough right now. The positioning of 'Warship Girls Collection' is much more suitable for Japan's gaming market."
"My main profession is animation production. I don't have the extra energy to manage games, and I'm not lacking money either. I just hope this game can gain some recognition and be loved by more players. I won't sell ownership of 'Warship Girls Collection', but operational rights and other licensing permissions can be negotiated in cooperation with your Frontier Legend Company."
Kamiyā Yuu laid out his fallback plan while proposing cooperation, clearly informing Mizuhara Raiko that even if negotiations between them collapsed, he would suffer no real losses.
No full ownership rights.
Only operational rights and licensing permissions.
Kamiyā Yuu was effectively treating their company as nothing more than a game operator.
If someone else had spoken to her this way, Mizuhara Raiko would have flipped the table and walked out long ago.
However, 'Warship Girls Collection' had already greatly impacted their company—not because of the game itself, but because of its gameplay model.
If they could integrate the framework of 'Warship Girls Collection' into 'Star Ranch' and 'Hero Adventure', both games would receive enormous boosts in playability.
'Frontier Legend' also had an excellent reputation among players, so they were unwilling to simply "borrow" the systems of 'Warship Girls Collection' without permission.
"You want Frontier Legend to help operate this game?"
"Just a moment."
Kamiyā Yuu smiled and gestured.
Not long after, Morishita Aoi entered carrying three documents, placing one each before Kamiyā Yuu, Kamiki Yui, and Mizuhara Raiko.
Morishita Aoi subtly observed Mizuhara Raiko for a moment.
Though both were beautiful career women, they were completely different types.
Mizuhara Raiko was fashionable and refined—the sort of woman who was probably more popular and simultaneously more prideful.
Earlier, Morishita Aoi had already learned Mizuhara Raiko's identity from Watanabe. When Kamiyā Yuu instructed her to bring over the contracts he had prepared in advance, she was incredibly surprised.
Had Kamiyā Yuu already anticipated that game companies would come knocking at his door?
She knew he had created a game as a hobby, but she never expected it would attract senior executives from a major game company personally seeking negotiations.
The contract Kamiyā Yuu prepared detailed the terms of cooperation.
He only wanted thirty percent of the profits from 'Warship Girls Collection'.
At the same time, the contract also contained highly detailed future development and profit plans for the game itself, as though Kamiyā Yuu had long anticipated eventually bringing the game to the public market.