"Do you need a game proposal, Mr. Tanaka?"
At the Seikai Game Expo, in the bustling backstage employee corridor, Saito Hayate clutched a stack of documents and approached a company representative who had just stepped away from a display booth.
"No, thanks. Try someone else," Tanaka Hiroshi replied, glancing at him briefly before turning away with a hint of impatience.
The expo was winding down, and the once-quiet corridor was now filled with people—industry professionals chatting and laughing as they headed toward the exits.
Hayate took a deep breath and approached another group. Before he could speak, they frowned and sidestepped him, their avoidance as clear as if he carried a contagious disease.
After approaching six companies, one representative finally sighed and spoke. "Look, you should move on. We won't work with you."
"To be blunt, you're a nobody. No matter how good your proposal is, no one's going to take a chance on it, let alone invest."
"You're young. My advice? Join a big company like Seikai, gain some experience, and build connections."
With that, the representative left the venue without looking back, leaving Hayate standing alone, clutching his proposal.
Other representatives glanced at him with pity, shook their heads, and walked away. The lively corridor gradually emptied, growing cold and quiet.
Another failure.
Staring at their retreating figures, Hayate stood in silence.
Three years ago, he had arrived in this parallel world as a game design student, struggling through university to graduate. He had hoped his knowledge from his previous life would propel him to success, but reality had been a harsh wake-up call.
No one was willing to take a chance on an unknown like him.
"It's brutal out here," he muttered, glancing at an interface only he could see.
[Game Production Orders]
[Unlock Progress: 9/10]
The progress wasn't for games he'd created himself but for freelance work he'd taken on—any task related to game production counted.
His plan had been simple: pitch a game to a company, secure a partnership, unlock the system, and earn his first big break. But he'd underestimated the industry. No one believed in his designs, and securing investment was a pipe dream.
Worse, his refusal of a job offer from Seikai Corporation had consequences. He still remembered the dark expression on the Seikai representative's face when he turned them down.
He had his reasons. Seikai's leadership was notorious for being rigid, dismissing employee ideas and treating games as mere profit machines. Joining them would have meant stifling his creativity, so he'd declined.
The fallout was predictable. Seikai's influence ran deep, and companies tied to them avoided him like the plague, wary of crossing the industry giant.
Beep beep.
His phone buzzed. It was a call from a small game company he'd worked with before. Hayate answered quickly.
"Saito, I'm sorry, but we've found someone else for the character coding job we discussed. We won't need you after all."
"What? We had an agreement," Hayate said, stopping in his tracks, his brow furrowing.
The voice on the other end paused before sighing. "I know it's unfair, but we can't afford to upset Seikai. I'll transfer the remaining payment for your past work."
"Take my advice—look for opportunities elsewhere."
The call ended abruptly, leaving only the sound of a dial tone.
Hayate tried calling back, but the line was busy. Moments later, notifications flooded his phone.
[You have been removed from Game Freelance Group 2.]
[You have been removed from Source Code Exchange Group.]
[Don't contact me again. I can't risk Seikai's misunderstanding.]
One by one, industry contacts blocked him, and the work groups he'd joined kicked him out. Most of these people relied on Seikai's freelance contracts and wouldn't risk their livelihoods for an unproven newcomer.
To cut ties so coldly, though—especially after casual chats in those groups just yesterday—felt like a betrayal.
Without resources or connections, even the best proposals were useless. Unless he left the city to find new partners, he was stuck.
Hayate's gaze drifted to Seikai's booth, memorizing its sleek logo.
Then, a voice echoed in his mind.
[Congratulations! You've completed 10 game production orders. Ultimate CG System activated.]
[Unlocked: Cinematic Trailer Function. Create promotional CG trailers for games using wealth points. First use is free.]
[Task Phase 2: Earn 1,000,000 wealth points through games.]
[Reward: Universal Game Engine]
Hayate froze, then broke into a grin. The payment from the canceled job must have counted as the final order, unlocking the system.
Heart racing, he focused on the interface to explore its features. This was his last chance to turn things around.
But as he read, his excitement faded.
"A CG system?" he muttered. "Not a game development system?"
As the name suggested, the system was designed solely for creating promotional trailers. It could generate stunning, cinematic-quality CG videos to showcase games, but it offered no help with coding, modeling, art, rendering, or audio. Those, he'd have to handle himself.
Hayate groaned, feeling as if he'd been punched in the gut. After all that effort to complete ten orders, this was his reward?
Without a game, a trailer was pointless. With his limited resources, creating a blockbuster title was impossible.
He couldn't exactly slap an epic trailer on a simple 2D game, could he?
Or… could he?
Hayate paused, his eyes falling to the proposal in his hands. The title stood out in bold: Valiant Hearts: The Great War.
It was a war-themed game from his previous world, renowned for its emotional depth despite its simple 2D visuals. It was the kind of project he could realistically complete alone.
Seikai's representative had been impressed by the concept, which was why they'd tried to recruit him—sparking the chain of events that led to his current isolation.
"Maybe it's worth a shot," he murmured.
For three years, he'd poured his heart into building the game's framework. With the CG system solving the trailer problem, he could save time and money. Completing it solo was within reach.
If he hadn't needed to unlock the system, he wouldn't have bothered with those freelance jobs or corporate pitches. Now, with the system active, he no longer had to play by their rules.
Determined, Hayate left the expo. He grabbed a quick street food meal and biked back to his apartment, where he dove back into his work.
Days blurred into nights as he worked tirelessly, refining every detail. A month later, he finished, copying the final files to his computer.
"Done," he exhaled, staring at the screen.
The journey had been grueling, but it was worth it. His hopes now rested on this game.
With a steady hand, he clicked "upload."
Soon, a game titled Valiant Hearts: The Great War appeared on a digital platform, accompanied by a modest CG trailer and a few simple screenshots.