The voices came from Zoey Parker and Gus Shepard, obviously.
From a business angle, Chloe Quinn's sequel idea wasn't bad. Plenty of studios in this world pump out quick follow-ups to milk a hit.
But Zoey and Gus weren't having it.
Zoey's logic was straightforward: Gus couldn't keep stealing the show. Cat Leo was already a runaway hit, racking up sales like nobody's business. With its tiny budget and fast production, a sequel would be a disaster for her Investment Rebate System—another success would kill her rebates. No way she'd let Gus ride this wave.
Gus had his own reasons. He wasn't about to tank his reputation. Churning out a sequel right after the first game was a cheap move by studios scared their next project would bomb. They'd cash in on the hype for easy money.
Not Gus. With his Game Vault System, he had a goldmine of ideas—each a potential banger in this game-starved world. Why trash his name for a few bucks? He was aiming to rule the gaming scene.
Plus, players get bored fast. Drop another Cat Leo, and they'd roll their eyes or rage-quit for good. For his cred and WindyPeak's future profits, a sequel was a hard pass.
…
Hearing both shoot down her idea, Zoey and Gus exchanged a quick look.
Zoey raised a hand, nudging Gus to go first. No way she could admit she was freaking out about the company making money and ruining her payout.
Gus nodded. "Chloe, your sequel pitch makes sense for big studios. They've got cash, tons of projects, and want quick profits. But us?" He glanced around the sparse Seattle conference room—glass walls, a coffee machine, a few art prints. "We're a startup. We got lucky with Cat Leo and made some noise. Doubling down with a sequel just screams 'we're out of gas.'"
He turned to Zoey. "So, Ms. Parker, I'm pitching a new project—something completely different from Cat Leo. Bigger budget, bolder try."
Zoey's eyes lit up at "bigger budget." Yes! Burn it all! The more they spent, the better her shot at a flop—and a massive rebate.
"That's what I'm talking about, Gus!" she said, practically jumping. "You've got a plan, right? Spill it."
In Zoey's mind, Cat Leo's success was mostly dumb luck. Nobody's lucky forever. Gus even called it a fluke! This new project sounded like a wild gamble—perfect for crashing and burning.
Just what she wanted.
"So, what's the deal with this new game?" she asked, leaning in.
Gus paused. "Uh… it's tough to explain. If I had to pin it down, I'd call it a role-playing, online, casual puzzle thing."
The room went silent.
Chloe and the finance lady stared like Gus had just suggested launching a moon base. Even Zoey blinked, thrown.
What kind of weird mashup was this? Role-playing, online, and casual puzzle? That's like mixing pizza, sushi, and ice cream.
This world's gaming scene was simple—action games, multiplayer arenas, first-person shooters, or racing titles. Action and arenas dominated PCs; shooters and racing ruled VR rigs. But Gus's idea? It didn't fit anywhere.
Zoey coughed. "Sorry, Gus, say that again. I'm not following."
Gus sighed. This game was so out there, even he struggled to pitch it in this world's terms. It was wild even in his old life.
"Alright, simpler," he said. "One player's a dad, the other's a baby. They're up against each other. Dad's gotta keep the baby alive. The baby's goal? Uh… cause as much chaos as possible to wipe out."
Dead silence.
The trio's brains fritzed. No words could capture how insane this sounded.
Was this a human brain's idea? A dad-and-baby setup was already nuts, but the win condition—baby causes chaos to lose? That was next-level crazy.
How do you even say that out loud without laughing?
The three stared at Gus, who flashed an awkward grin, like a kid caught sneaking cookies.
He looked at Zoey, who was running mental math like a supercomputer. "So, Ms. Parker, can I get the go-ahead?"
Zoey froze for five seconds, then nodded slowly.
"Oh, you've got it."
This wasn't just a go-ahead—it was a blank check. With a pitch this unhinged, Gus wasn't just burning budget; he was setting it on fire. Even Picasso would've tipped his hat.