Roku's grin widened the more hearing me praise him or should I say the infamous Hiroto Ishikawa rain praises down on him. 'Such a greedy man' I mumbled to myself, eyes keen on the contract he took out from the shelves and passed gently over to me.
"That's wonderful to hear, Mr. Ishikawa. I knew when I first saw your name on my schedule, this would be a turning point for Kenshao Interactive. We've been waiting for someone like you to elevate us to the next level." There was a hint of nervousness in his tone while he drummed his fingers on his thigh.
'Keep talking, fool,' I thought, hiding my smirk behind a calm expression. I adjusted my tie and leaned forward slightly, sliding the neat black folder he kept at the middle of the desk to me. "Go ahead," I said evenly. "What do the clauses of this contract entail?"
Roku straightened immediately, seizing the chance to boast. "It's an investment contract," He cleared his throat, wiping off his sweaty hands on his shirt. "Our growth projections are solid, our mechanisms are innovative, and frankly, all our game creation has limitless potential. The clauses give you premium equity stakes, plus guaranteed priority returns on any revenue generated in the next five fiscal years. Quite enticing, if I may say so."
I tapped a finger lightly against the folder. "Interesting. But tell me, what do I benefit if I sign it?" From his facial expression, it was obvious he hadn't thought what he'd give the other side and thought of only himself. That explained why Kenshao never secured any investor throughout six months: he always chased them away with what he would gain and not what they could gain.
Roku froze, his confident smile twitching as if I'd just pulled the rug from under his feet. He blinked twice, forcing a painful laugh out. "Mr. Ishikawa," he began, voice dropping as his hands tightened together on the desk, "what possible thing could my company offer you? You have wealth, reputation, more than anyone in this industry could dream of."
He was trembling already and I haven't even lifted a finger yet. He shifted uncomfortably on his seat, muttering gibberish. "Tell you what," he added desperately, "name anything you want, and I'll give it to you."
Exactly what I wanted him to say. He had just given me the key to crack him wide open. My eyes narrowed, enjoying his crack and also, considering his so called deal. "Have you heard of Kaito Arisaka?"
Bang!
He scratched the side of his neck and forced a dismissive chuckle. "Uh, yeah. He was one of my employees. Got fired yesterday. Honestly, it's a relief that dead weight like him only slowed us down. It's great to finally have that burden off my shoulders."
Was I surprised?
No...
A bit hurt?
Not at all...
"A burden, you say?" My eyes gleamed, and I let the silence drag long enough for his throat to tighten. Inside, I was already savoring his downfall. "A friend of mine was hugely impressed with Kaito's work yesterday," I said slowly, watching him sweat even more. "Said the kid single-handedly stopped whatever mess you made while you stood there pointing fingers."
Roku snapped, too fast. His voice wobbled as he was trying to rewrite the morning in which his own hubris had been naked."You're mistaken. I told him to delete the file. I did what he could not do and he was there like an idiot."
I smiled, mild and patient. "Is that so?" I tapped the contract with a fingernail. "Funny how people misconstrue who saved what. Either way, I'll make this simple. I'll sign your investment contract on one condition."
He straightened. "Name it."
"You transfer ownership of every title and piece of code authored by Kaito Arisaka: launched, unpublished builds, private backups, anything bearing his name to me. Full IP transfer. No exceptions."
"All of Kaito's work? Why would I even do that?" He groped for reasons even as his greed reached for the money on the pitch slides. "Those are company assets."
"You said you fired him right? Why is it hard to transfer his creations to me?" I spread my hands. "Make it simple: name your price for those assets and I'll buy them outright." I watched as the sweats disappeared from his face once he heard 'name your price'.
"If you want those… fine. ¥150 million. Non-negotiable." I was sure he didn't calculate and called out any figure that came to his mind because if he did, he would know the nearest future those games would have brought him billions. But no worries, he was a fool to understand the gaming industry anyways.
I pushed a pen toward him, watched the old man greed do the rest. He picked up the pen, added some of my proposed clauses to the contract, had it reprinted and stamped before bringing it a second time to read. A smile stuck to my face, reading out the clause I wanted:
All intellectual property, source code, assets, and derivative works authored by Kaito Arisaka, including but not limited to any new game that he makes and all associated cloud backups and repository branches are hereby transferred to purchaser under the name Hiroto Ishikawa."
I closed the folder slowly, keeping my eyes on his happy face. "We'll wire the funds and notarize the transfer within the hour," I said, standing and he was quick to leave his chair and dick ride me. He took my hand for a shake, and I left the office being escorted by the security out of the company gates with the signed pages under my arm.
I had walked down to the street on my right when I paused, taking out my phone and dialing Okada's number. It took minutes before he could pick up. "Kaito, have you checked your account since you left?"
"...." I put the call on hold, scrolling through my bank statements to see a whooping sum of ¥1B sitting in my account. I swiped back to the call, removing it from hold and asked. "And the figures just keeps increasing and increasing. How did you do it?"
"Your friend was an accountant dropout did you forget? I know the tactics, anyway, my workshop is full of people who wants to play your game endlessly. I spoke to a contractor and he is coming tomorrow to renovate it into an arcade. My very first Oakda Arcade, will even call it something better. Dreams are coming through, Kaito!"
I tapped the phone against my ear. "Congratulations, man," I said, because that's what winners do.
"So tell me latest billionaire in town, how is the revenge scheme going? Did Roku agree? How about his mistress?"
"Met his mistress. Her name's Zumi. She's on our payroll now and is very willing, loyal, useful. And Roku just signed away every bit of code I wrote while I worked there. I walked out with his signature and the transfer clause. All my games, launched and in-dev, are legally mine again." This was a very proud moment for me.
"You savage. Nice. You actually did it."
"Yeah," I said, "But don't celebrate yet. Paper's one thing; control's another. I need to make sure the signatures, the files, everything is locked down and replicated. No loopholes."
"Do it now," Okada ordered. "Upload those signed docs, the source branches, repo backups and everything to multiple cloud locks. Verify access. Are you thinking what I am thinking?" Okada let silence stretch and I definitely knew what he was thinking.
What better way to how Roku I wasn't a loser than build my company from what generated him wealth?
"Let me guess — you're thinking we start our own gaming company, register HellBound under it, and use that to siphon every last yen Kenshao would've milked?" I finished for him.
"Exactly. We build the company, lock the IP, flip distribution to our channels, and then watch the vultures scramble when Kenshao realizes what they sold. But we don't go loud." I nodded. The plan wasn't rocket science since I had enough money to fund the project at hand.
"Step one: incorporate. Offshore or domestic?"
"Domestic for legitimacy," Okada said. "Offshore for mirrors and backup servers. You want people to buy from a storefront that looks kosher, so we open a Tokyo-registered LLC for PR and payment rails. Mirror the repos and notarized contracts to an offshore vault — Switzerland or Singapore — so no takedown notice from Kenshao will remove the archives."
"Got it." I already had the folder open on my phone, fingers itching. "Step two?"
"Step two: IP proof. We upload signed contracts, timestamp them, notarize, then push every repo branch to three different providers. Make it impossible for Roku's lawyers to claim magic tampering. Photographic evidence of the signing, metadata, and cryptographic hashes — all mirrored and locked." He rattled off the checklist like a veteran.
"Step three: PR and legal prelaunch." I grinned. "We don't announce a single thing until the legal team files preliminary IP notices and creates a paper trail. Then we dripfeed embargoed teasers — not huge, just enough to inflate demand. The moment Kenshao blinks, we hit them with a legit press release and proof. Panic sells. People love to be first."
Okada rubbed his hands together. "Recruitment next. We need a skeleton crew — backend ops, a community manager who can cultivate hype, and a lawyer who knows gaming IP. I'll set up the first booth tomorrow at the arcade. You handle the code and the cloud pushes."
I could feel my pulse matching the pace of the plan. "And Roku?"
"Roku stays ignorant until the last minute," Okada said. "Zumi plays the dutiful mistress in public. We let Roku keep believing he won the deal. Then we cut the feed, make the transfer public, and boom bankruptcy and panic."