"What's up?"
Hearing Zoey's cautious voice, Gus Harper turned to face Zoey Parker.
"Just… can you crash on the couch?"
Zoey flashed an awkward, polite grin.
Gus blinked. "Huh?"
"Why am I on the couch? What'd I do?"
He answered on reflex, then realized it sounded off.
"I mean…" Gus spread his hands. "Why ditch my bed for the sofa?"
"Because… uh…" Zoey stammered, her voice shrinking.
"Because, well…"
Gus went quiet.
Five seconds later, it clicked!
"No way, you're that freaked out?"
Gus's face was pure disbelief. "What, got a ghost in your mouth or something?"
"You're the ghost!" Zoey shot up from the sofa. "Why you gotta be so mean? I said I wanna sleep on the couch! Get it?"
"What?!" Gus was floored. "You're sleeping on the couch, so I gotta join you? That's nuts, right?"
"My logic's the law!" Zoey smirked, smacking the sofa. "Get over here!"
Gus choked. "You training a dog or what?"
"Fine—" Zoey paused, then patted the sofa again. "Pretty please!"
"Nice one!" Gus gave a thumbs-up, then clasped his hands. "Big bro!"
Zoey didn't back down. "Lil' bro!"
"Please!"
"Please!"
"Bow down—"
"Haha, you're broke as a joke…" Zoey giggled, giving Gus a playful kick as he shuffled toward her. "Go wash up, it's practically dawn."
Gus got it—Zoey's Outlast run left her spooked.
Daytime fears turn into nighttime nightmares.
She was probably dreading a psycho chasing her in her sleep.
Tick… tick… tick…
The living room clock ticked on.
Soft, steady breathing filled the space.
Morning's first light slipped through the curtain gap, gliding across the floor, over the fluffy rug, and onto the sofa.
It brushed Zoey's long lashes, traced her neck, and settled on her curled knees.
"Mmm… don't… don't chase me…"
Zoey mumbled, caught in a tense dream-chase, her legs twitching.
"Don't chase!!!"
She jolted, legs springing out, forgetting Gus was on the sofa.
Whoosh—
Her calves stretched, toes curled tight, and—bam!—a rabbit-kick to the eagle!
Gus grunted softly, "Hmph?"
He cracked open sleepy eyes, peering at Zoey.
Oh, crap.
The warden's nightmare jailer had arrived.
Only downside? Way too fast.
Buzz—BAM!!!
…
"Wake the hell up! It's this late, and you're still out? How do you even have the energy to sleep?!"
Smack!
A data report slapped Yamamoto's face, yanking him out of his chair!
"Boss…"
Bloodshot eyes opened to see Keimasa Kamikoshi looming over him.
Yamamoto Tsuna shuddered, scrambling to his feet, bowing low.
Yeah.
Yamamoto didn't go home last night. Slept at the office.
Not just last night.
Yesterday, the day before, the day before that…
A whole week at Komina's HQ.
No choice.
With IndieVibe and Nebula Entertainment's one-two punch—overt and covert—Yamamoto was drowning in stress.
Komina's a titan.
But IndieVibe and Nebula? No pushovers.
Now they're teaming up!
"Boss… what's… up?" Yamamoto quaked before Kamikoshi's furious glare.
"What's up?" Kamikoshi sneered. "It's been twelve hours since Silent Hill launched. How're our sales?"
One question, and Yamamoto froze!
How'd he know? He just woke up!
"S-Sorry!!!"
A 90-degree bow and a panicked apology—standard in Tokyo.
"Then open your damn eyes!" Kamikoshi barked, pointing at the scattered reports.
Yamamoto scrambled, gathering the papers, scanning them.
A gut punch!
Silent Hill's global sales after twelve hours…
"Thirty… thousand… copies?"
Twelve hours! 30,000 copies!
Only 30,000!
Even best-case, first-day sales wouldn't top 50,000.
At $28 a pop, that's barely over a million bucks!
But Silent Hill cost $67 million!
Unlike multiplayer battle games that grow with updates, horror games like Silent Hill peak on day one!
Sure, under-hyped games can climb with more marketing.
But Silent Hill? They'd blanketed every channel possible.
Promotion was maxed out!
This was Silent Hill's ceiling!
It's over!
Sales would only drop from here!
Yamamoto's hands shook.
He sank into his chair, legs jelly.
Then he saw the competitor stats.
Usually, three to five rival games are listed.
But horror's niche, and Komina's clash with WindyPeak was brutal.
So, one competitor:
Outlast
Twelve-hour sales: 180,000 copies!
Six times Silent Hill's numbers!!!
Estimated first-day sales: 250,000 copies!
30,000 vs. 180,000 in twelve hours!
50,000 vs. 250,000 on day one!
Not just a loss—a slaughter!
Yamamoto got why Kamikoshi slapped the report in his face at dawn!
Kamikoshi was being nice.
With these numbers, Yamamoto couldn't argue if Kamikoshi made him eat the paper!
Flip!
Yamamoto, trembling, checked the second report—comments.
"Outlast crushes Silent Hill! Day-one win locked!"
"Is Komina just bad at horror with its dated monster-slaying formula?"
Outlast got raves; Silent Hill got trashed.
["Without Sam Harper, Silent Hill mimics the form but lacks soul, turning it into a zombie like its monsters."]
["Unarmed is the key to horror. Yamamoto Tsuna clearly missed the memo…"]
["Komina's biggest flop! Silent Hill might be their worst loss ever!"]
"I tried to be fair, bought Silent Hill, now I just want my money back!!!"
"Why kill monsters here when I can play Left 4 Dead on PC? Isn't mowing down zombies more fun than this brain-dead killer lead?"
"Silent Hill's plot is exhausting. So I'm just a murderer hiding a body in a creepy town?"
"Neat idea, but save it. My dog's got better ideas."
"This game's got brain rot."
"You're too kind. This doesn't even touch Left 4 Dead's level! It's worse than a fan mod!"
"Left 4 Dead has sequels?"
"Yeah, Left 4 Dead 2 on the somatosensory cabin. Barely anyone bought it, though."
"So I'm not the only one burned by Silent Hill."
"Buy this, and you're a meme for a year…"
"Silent Hill wasn't meant to be this!"
"Yamamoto, your ancestors are rolling!!!"
"Now you know who to curse, right?"
"…"
Yamamoto's chest heaved, rage boiling, like he'd fallen into a frozen pit!
No doubt—Nebula Entertainment's trolls were in the mix!
But the hate was a flood—impossible to spot the real culprits!
And Silent Hill's flop was undeniable!
"This… this is a stain on my career!"
Kamikoshi slammed the desk, roaring, "Don't think I don't know what's in your head!"
"You thought you could juggle Yakuza and the horror revival Silent Hill? Thought you'd own both?"
"You're delusional, idiot!"
Kamikoshi snatched the report, flipped to the last page, and slammed it down!
BANG!
"Look at this!!!"
He stormed out, not looking back!
BANG!
The door slammed, the draft scattering papers. Yamamoto grabbed them—
Project: Yakuza
Expected first-day sales: 210,000 copies
Twelve-hour sales: 78,000 copies
Estimated first-day sales: 108,000 copies
Year-on-year sales drop: 48.57%
Sales halved!
Silent Hill's stink tanked Yakuza too, another Yamamoto project!
His greed to dominate both got him burned.
And worse—
All Komina's same-period games took hits from Silent Hill's fallout!
Drops ranged from 10% to 25%!
Silent Hill's fiasco!
Yakuza's collapse!
Company-wide sales dragged down!
All because Yamamoto wanted to be Komina's top dog!
Boom!
Yamamoto's mind blanked.
His hand, clutching the report, slumped onto the desk.
Silent Hill alone cost $67 million, made $1 million day one—a disaster.
Add the ripple effects on other projects?
The losses from clashing with WindyPeak were astronomical!
Then it hit him.
Kamikoshi's parting words weren't just anger at a screw-up.
This wasn't simple!
A flop this big, losses this huge—
The board needed a scapegoat!
And at Komina, the perfect fall guy for this blunder…
Yamamoto Tsuna!
Top dog? Dream on!
Now, staying at Komina was the question!
Yamamoto leaped up, shoving the door open!
"Boss! Boss! Let me explain…"
…
"…I swear I didn't mean it!"
Meanwhile—
Zoey was gingerly dabbing ointment on Gus's eye.
His right eye socket was bruised, red, swelling into a panda eye.
Zoey bit her lip, shaking, trying not to laugh.
"Sorry, so sorry…"
Gus grimaced, glaring. "Your apology's fake as hell. You're grinning ear to ear!"
"Hey! Watch it, Harper!" Zoey spread the last bit of ointment, dead serious. "I'm a pro. No matter how funny, I won't crack…"
"Really?" Gus squinted his swollen eye.
"Really!" Zoey nodded hard, lips tight. "I'd never laugh at you!"
"What if you do?"
"Lightning strike me down!"
"Nah, just do all the chores this week."
"Deal!"
"Pinky swear?"
"Pinky swear!"
They hooked pinkies.
Gus grinned, "Yo, Zoey, check this."
"Huh?" Zoey looked up.
Gus tilted his head, "Kids these days got no honor, sneaking up on a 69-year-old vet like me… I grab my drink, throw a left kick, right whip kick…"
Zoey's face twisted, eyes wide, like she couldn't believe this level of cheese.
"Hope you… rethink that slick move…"
Gus patted her shoulder.
Zoey lost it, collapsing on the sofa in laughter!
"Hahaha, that's too good… you dog, hahaha…"
"You're trying to make me laugh, hahaha…"
"You're cheating!!!"