Plants! Zombies! For everyone!
The Steel Chain Fingers team stared, baffled.
Each word made sense alone, but together? Total head-scratcher.
Plants and zombies? Maybe vaguely related, like some weird biology crossover.
"Uh… so…" Sato fumbled, at a loss for words.
Yuki, sorting through her jumbled thoughts, spoke up hesitantly. "We're using cartoon plants to fend off zombies?"
"Yup," Gus Harper nodded. "Any issues?"
Issues?
They didn't just have issues—they had a whole list.
This game was a mess of red flags.
Start with the art style.
Defense games usually went one of two ways: cute and cuddly, like Defend the Carrots, or gritty and epic, like Throne Guard.
This? Neither.
It wasn't gritty—far from it. Cute? Barely. The sunflower was friendly enough, but the other plants and zombies oozed a quirky, almost too-smart vibe.
Yuki, the team's art lead, could only call it "goofy cartoon style."
Sure, it worked for all ages, not leaning too hard into any demographic—great for broad appeal. But the gameplay? That's where it got weird.
A 5x9 grid where you plant defenses in each square. Zombies march from the right, crossing the grid in straight lines.
Here's the kicker: zombies could eat the plants.
Enemies destroying defenses? In a defense game?
Gus, had he checked the market lately?
No defense game let its towers get wrecked unless the player chose to scrap them. Historically, defenses were untouchable.
Now, not only was the goal at risk, but the defenses were too. Watching your hard-earned plants get chomped? Instant frustration.
The art didn't fit the market, the levels and maps felt repetitive, and the constant risk of losing defenses screamed bad vibes.
Was this game even viable?
After hearing the team's polite but pointed concerns, even Zoey Parker wavered.
Was Gus pushing it too far?
This kind of defense game was unheard of, even among Steel Chain Fingers' seasoned vets.
But then she shrugged it off.
No big deal. It was just a main project.
Profit? She'd spin it into a side project. Loss? She'd cash in on rebates.
Win-win.
Zoey waved a hand. "I trust Gus's instincts."
The team blinked, then nodded, the realization hitting.
Right—this was Gus Harper's brainchild, the guy who made "Sam Harper" a legend.
How'd they miss that?
WindyPeak had churned out wild games before.
Vampire survival? Never existed until they made it.
Next-gen FPS? They broke the mold.
Psychological horror like Silent Hill P.T.? Their invention.
Cinematic co-op like A Way Out? All them.
Gus had a track record of turning "never been done" into hits.
At WindyPeak, the rule was simple: trust Gus.
GameScope Forum Hot Posts:
"WindyPeak's locked in for IndieVibe's overseas push! Leading the charge!"
"Annual indie banger! What's WindyPeak cooking this time?"
"Steel Chain Fingers' debut! Will the Japanese crew deliver?"
"WindyPeak's third indie game drops end of the month!"
With WindyPeak and IndieVibe's joint announcement, the "Indie Game Overseas Plan" was official.
Media buzzed, not as loud as WindyPeak's GDC win, but still lively. A WindyPeak game always sparked chatter.
"Indie Game Fest stan here (lol)."
"Yearly indie drop keeps things fresh."
"WindyPeak's games are straight fire. Still grinding their vampire game."
"What's the surprise this time?"
"Flagship for the overseas plan? Bet it's a banger."
"Steel Chain Fingers filling the A Way Out void. Hope it slaps!"
"I'm more hyped for A Way Out. Why not merge Steel Chain Fingers with Golden Experience to speed it up?"
"Nah, A Way Out's been in the works for six weeks. Steel Chain Fingers just started. Jumping in now would slow it down."
"Dual studios are smart—single-core to dual-core, double the games."
"Not enough! I want eight cores! Sixteen!"
"Gus: You trying to work me to death?"
"Lmao, Gus is gonna need a vacation…"
Amid the online buzz, Plants vs. Zombies development kicked into high gear.
Everything ran smoothly.
Except for Zoey, who hit a small snag—rebate multipliers.
During development, she'd been wrestling with whether to crank up the rebate rate and extend the settlement window.
If she raised it, how high?
Sure, this indie game was a safe bet either way—profit or loss, she'd come out ahead.
But Zoey wanted to max out her gains.
The problem? She couldn't predict how Plants vs. Zombies would land.
For her, games had two outcomes: profit or loss.
Loss meant her secret fund grew via rebates. Profit meant her fund took a hit, but she could spin it into side projects.
If Plants vs. Zombies was like A Way Out—hyped by fans and praised by insiders—it'd probably rake in cash.
No sweat. She'd set the multiplier to 100x, use it as a profit tool, and forget rebates.
But Plants vs. Zombies was in a weird spot.
Popular? Not like A Way Out, with its massive fanbase and industry clout. It had some buzz, thanks to IndieVibe's promo and WindyPeak's rep, but nothing crazy.
Industry takes? Lukewarm. Even Steel Chain Fingers doubted it at first.
The art and gameplay didn't match market trends. If it wasn't Gus's project, it might've been scrapped.
So, it could flop.
That made the rebate rate critical.
Zoey checked the open project file:
Main Project: Plants vs. Zombies (Unlocked)
Investment: $1.15M
Settlement Time: 7 days (+0 days)
Rebate Rate: 10x (+0x)
Current Revenue: $0M
Estimated Rebate: $11.5M
Remaining Time: Pending
Since it was an overseas game, the file used dollars—$1.15M, roughly equivalent to prior small-game budgets adjusted for inflation.
Three years ago, WindyPeak's Vampire Survivor cost just $28,000 (200,000 yuan). Now, their indie game budget had ballooned 40 times.
Why? Zoey's "spend big" outsourcing strategy and hefty employee raises. WindyPeak's salaries now rivaled top-tier studios in the U.S., with plans to match Europe next.
Outsourcing? Only the best—pricey programmers, artists, and composers from global T1 teams.
Zoey's high-cost approach paid off. Low-budget games with WindyPeak's clout would've guaranteed profits.
But at $1.15M, with a $1.54M break-even point after fees (priced at $2 per copy, needing 770,000 sales in a week), a loss was possible.
Was it likely?
Absolutely.
To the Moon hit 1.7M copies in a week, but that was fueled by IndieVibe's massive promo, charity tie-ins, and official hype.
Plants vs. Zombies? No charity angle, no official boost, and weaker promo. Even 500,000 copies in a week would be a miracle for an indie game.
Last year's Overcooked sold 200,000 in a week. Double that, and it's still 370,000 short of 770,000.
Zoey nodded to herself.
She slid the settlement time to 7 days (+5 days), bumping the rebate rate to 10x (+5x).
More rebates, better payoff.
No pressure—she was set either way.
Lose in 12 days? Her fund grows. Profit? She'd launch side projects.
The ultimate hustle: You might win big, but I'm never losing.
The file locked in:
Main Project: Plants vs. Zombies
Investment: $1.15M
Settlement Time: 7 days (+5 days)
Rebate Rate: 10x (+5x)
Current Revenue: $0M
Estimated Rebate: $17.25M
Remaining Time: 11 days, 23 hours, 59 minutes, 59 seconds…
Last day of the month, Friday, 8 p.m.
IndieVibe's Indie Game Overseas Plan launched, featuring ten standout indie games across six PC and eight mobile platforms, covering most global gamers.
As the event went live, Zoey sliced some fruit, grabbed a blanket, and dragged Gus to the couch.
"We watching the stream?" Gus asked, amused. "It's not a tough game. You picked the vibe—why not just play it?"
"Me? Play?" Zoey scoffed, munching cantaloupe. "If I buy it, that's $2 toward sales."
This game could flop. No way she'd risk boosting its numbers.
She'd buy it—after seven days.
"Wanna see how it turned out first," she said, spearing another fruit piece for Gus. "If it's a dud, I'm not wasting my cash."
"You don't trust me?" Gus teased, faking a wounded look.
Zoey raised an eyebrow. "Trust? You, Harper? Really?"
Gus winced, remembering the A Way Out demo. He'd promised to guide Zoey, then laughed his ass off while she panicked.
He'd earned that water-gun attack.
"Let's not talk trust," he muttered, shrinking back.
A familiar voice crackled from the screen: "Yo, game night's on! Plants vs. Zombies… what's with that name?"