Tokyo, Komina Digital Entertainment's top-floor boardroom crackled with tension. Tetsuya Moritani, head bowed, faced the executives. "Gentlemen, we cannot ignore reality. WindyPeak's charity wave is slamming us hard."
His gaze swept the room. "If you've tracked player chatter on X lately, you've seen it. They're pitting us against WindyPeak. Let's not sugarcoat it—why's Silent Hill drowning in criticism? Why the relentless attacks?"
Ignoring President Joetsu Keimasa's scowl, Moritani pressed on. "We betrayed our partners for profit, chasing every dollar. Meanwhile, WindyPeak poured all $25.5 million of To the Moon's sales into charity—every cent! They're saints in players' eyes, while we're the greedy villains."
Executives shifted, heads lowered. Moritani's words cut deep, almost disloyal, yet undeniable. Whether WindyPeak planned this or not, their charity stunt had seized the moral high ground. Komina was bleeding public trust.
Joetsu leaned forward, voice tight. "So, Moritani, what's your solution?"
"Announce Silent Hill now," Moritani said without hesitation. "Push promotion early, full force."
Gasps echoed. Early promotion meant millions more in costs! Silent Hill's development, nearing completion, cost $15 million. Standard publicity matched that—$15 million. But ousting WindyPeak sparked a PR nightmare, demanding an extra $5 million to quell "Fvk KOMINA" posts. Now, To the Moon's success forced another $2 to $3 million to rush the campaign. Total? A staggering $40 million!
"We must act fast," Moritani urged. "WindyPeak's charity hype is growing. If we wait until next month, the backlash will explode, and we'll burn even more cash to fix it—millions more!"
He paused, voice heavy. "Or we abandon Silent Hill. It was a side project, a gamble. Cut losses at $15 million promotion and pivot. Komina's got Yakuza, shooters, racing—plenty of other bets."
The room froze. Abandon Silent Hill? Moritani's clarity was brutal. Gus Harper, WindyPeak's genius, haunted them like a specter. Moritani despised Komina's greed—kicking out Gus, chasing profit—but his loyalty held firm. He'd defend the IP to the death, even if it meant saving a sinking ship.
Tsuna Yamamoto, head of Yamamoto Studio, shot up. "Moritani, you're too cautious! Even if WindyPeak's hiding something, so what? We own Silent Hill's IP. They'd be fools to touch horror—our lawyers would crush them!"
Yamamoto's eyes burned with ambition. Komina's Big Three studios—Yamamoto, Koizumi, Takasugi—battled for supremacy. His Yakuza already claimed the lion's share of promo funds. Ousting WindyPeak gave him Silent Hill, too. Two blockbusters could make him untouchable, the king of the Big Three. With Joetsu nearing retirement, this was his shot to dominate.
"Gus Harper's 'King of Horror' title is just hype," Yamamoto sneered. "Our $40 million campaign will bury it. No new project, no buzz—they're starting from zero!"
Moritani sighed inwardly. Fool. Yamamoto lived in denial, blind to Gus's brilliance. He saw himself, a Big Three veteran, as untouchable. But Moritani looked to Joetsu, who held the real power.
Silence hung heavy. Joetsu shook his head. "We don't back down."
Moritani's eyes closed. Joetsu and Yamamoto were bound by greed—profit for one, fame for the other. The $3 million boost was approved unanimously. Silent Hill's global campaign roared to life that Friday, set for a mid-next-month release.
X erupted: "Komina's Silent Hill drops next month! Hallelujah!"" Yamamoto Studio's gonna crush it!""Picks up P.T.'s cliffhanger—new hero, creepier town! I'm shaking!""Psychological horror done right! Yamamoto's experience beats all!""Biggest horror budget ever! This is the savior of scary games!"
Komina's PR machine was relentless. Media framed Silent Hill as a "new-gen horror masterpiece" by "legendary designer" Yamamoto, sidestepping P.T.'s baggage. "Fvk KOMINA" posts were buried. Gus Harper and WindyPeak's names vanished from forums. Players buzzed with feverish anticipation, oblivious to the battle behind the scenes.
Seattle, Riverside Heights. Walter Parker slid his rook across the chessboard, eyeing Gus Harper's king. "Check. So, Komina's made their move?"
Gus nodded, turning his knight to block. "Exactly as you called it, Walter. They're rushing Silent Hill's promotion. Full throttle, global push."
Walter grinned, tapping the board. "They're scared. Your To the Moon stunt's got them rattled."
Gus leaned back, smirking. "An ancient proverb says: 'He who reads the battlefield clearly is the true hero.' They're charging blind. We're ready."