The Binding of Isaac is a low-budget niche game.
By all accounts, a game like this shouldn't make waves upon release. But its journey was nothing short of legendary.
First, the head of Aotake Studio got caught in a scandal involving compensated dating, and Tetsu Fuyukawa stepped in to take over. That was fine enough, but what shocked everyone was that Tetsu wrapped up the game's development in under a month while simultaneously winning over President Asai, Minister Koharu, and a panel of professional game testers, securing an A-tier marketing budget!
An A-tier marketing budget!
The funds allocated for promotion far exceeded the game's production costs—a rare move for a small-scale niche title like this!
Instantly, anticipation skyrocketed. Employees with lighter workloads even secretly opened YouTube's roguelike game category on their computers.
In the week leading up to The Binding of Isaac's release, Mitei Miyano, in charge of marketing, went all out. She secured ads in roguelike sections of major gaming forums and partnered with streamers on short- and long-form video platforms. But she didn't go for million-follower mega-streamers.
Why? First, they're expensive. Second, their audiences are too diverse. Sure, big streamers pull massive traffic, but their viewers are a mixed bag, with little overlap with Isaac's target audience. Spending $100 on a big streamer might yield the same impact as $10 on a niche roguelike streamer.
Of course, big streamers could expose the game to players outside the roguelike circle, but that was a later step. After discussions, Tetsu and Mitei decided to pour all their funds into the roguelike community. For a blockbuster aiming for ten million sales across the gaming world, an A-tier budget might be a drop in the bucket. But for a small niche like roguelikes? It was like flooding the market with a tidal wave.
As release day hit, YouTube's roguelike section was dominated by streams titled "N-Soft's New Game: The Binding of Isaac—Let's Play!" and "Tetsu's Latest: The Binding of Isaac! New Roguelike!" It was a deluge of coverage.
This blew the minds of countless employees.
"This scale? Tetsu's thrown all the marketing budget into this?" one gasped.
"He's not leaving any fallback plan! If the game doesn't gain traction on YouTube, there's no money left for other platforms!" another exclaimed.
"Sugoi! That's some serious guts! How long until release?"
"It's out! It's out! This streamer's already playing! Whoa, it's got a Western vibe. Is Tetsu aiming for the American and European markets this time?"
"It looks kinda cool… but the stream viewership's pretty low."
"Same here on my end."
The game launched!
Employees were buzzing with excitement, but soon, a problem became clear.
Tons of streamers were playing The Binding of Isaac, but their viewer counts were dismal.
Those familiar with the roguelike market weren't surprised. It's the curse of a niche genre. Roguelikes are cheap to make, and buying traffic within the community is easy, but the market's tiny, and standout titles are rare.
This creates a tricky problem. A small market is manageable, but a lack of great games means the genre struggles to maintain hype. Even dedicated roguelike fans don't consistently watch streams in this category, and casual players are even less likely to tune in. Add to that Tetsu's lack of reputation in the roguelike scene—NTsoft itself barely had a presence there either. The streams were relying purely on the streamers' own pull.
And it showed. Not only were stream viewerships lackluster, but sales were crawling too.
Still…
"It's all groundwork. The real test is word-of-mouth," Tetsu said calmly, sipping oolong tea in the meeting room. Sayoko clung nervously to his arm, but he remained unfazed—not pretending, but genuinely confident. He understood exactly why things were playing out this way.
Roguelikes are niche. Most players don't treat them—or any non-IP-backed roguelike—as a "main course." Even with the soft ads they'd planted across forums, most players would only register a passing impression, not rush to buy. That's why roguelike ads are relatively cheap—they don't convert well. With few standout titles, the genre's hype is hard to sustain, and the streaming category has a small, fleeting audience.
At this hour, most viewers were watching big streamers doing skits or cute girls singing and dancing. To pull them over, the roguelike community needed organic buzz. Once that kicked in, paired with the week-long ad campaign across gaming sites, curious roguelike fans would start checking it out, creating a snowball effect.
Only then could they gauge whether The Binding of Isaac would succeed in this world based on how fast and far that snowball rolled.
Tetsu knew this. So did Mitei, who sat calmly with her legs crossed, eyeing the data. Even Sayoko, always trailing Tetsu, understood—though her nerves had her gripping his arm tightly.
The trio got it, but others didn't.
As Isaac's sales failed to skyrocket as hoped, the office buzz grew louder. Still, the memory of I'm Surrounded by Beautiful Women—which "flopped" in its first six hours only to explode —kept many at NTsoft from writing Tetsu off. A good chunk of employees were still rooting for another miracle.
Heated debates and even arguments filled the air, spilling into the small meeting room where Sistar's team was holding auditions. Aside from Manager Hase, most were entertainment industry folks who didn't get gaming. All they knew was Tetsu's new game wasn't selling well.
Several female idols in the room stole glances at Himawari Izumi. They might not understand games, but they knew how to read people and situations. Tetsu was Himawari's backer, and now that backer seemed shaky.
No one pulled the cliché novel trope of a brainless villain jumping out to gloat only to get slapped down. Only an idiot would make enemies without cause. But the sneaky glances were unavoidable. Yet, under their stares, Himawari calmly tuned her guitar strings, exuding cool confidence.
So composed?
The girls in the room were quietly impressed by her poise at such a young age. But if Tetsu were there, he'd see through her facade—she was freaking out inside, ready to scream. For a socially anxious person, "cool" is just a defense mechanism.
In this tense, chaotic atmosphere, time ticked by. Just as most were ready to declare The Binding of Isaac a flop…
"It's dead. A-tier marketing, and only 130 copies sold in half an hour? That's the niche trap—low costs, easy to buy traffic, but the market's too—"
"Nani?! Holy crap! Did I see that right? Sales just jumped by over 30!"
"No way! Three sales in three seconds? Sugee! It's spiking again—50 more!"
Half an hour in, with just 130 copies sold, the game looked doomed, even for a niche title under A-tier marketing. But then, to everyone's shock, sales started soaring!
Not just sales—stream viewerships were exploding too!
"It's here!" Tetsu sat up straight in the meeting room, his eyes sharpening.
The next few hours would determine whether The Binding of Isaac would become a hit.
In its original world, the game took months to catch fire. Launched with zero marketing and riddled with bugs, its early sales were abysmal, only climbing later through patches and word-of-mouth. But now, backed by NTsoft and a hefty A-tier marketing budget, its potential was being unleashed early.
"Can this plan work?" Tetsu's gaze locked onto YouTube's roguelike streaming section.
Logically, he shouldn't have funneled all the budget into this one niche, skipping big streamers entirely. Small streamers have limited reach, but that was the strategy. Roguelike streamers were affordable, and by focusing firepower, Tetsu ensured the entire first page of the section was flooded with Isaac streams.
Open the page, and every streamer's playing the same game. The visual impact alone was staggering—a massive gimmick to make players think, "Whoa, this looks huge," and organically spread the word to other streams and forums.
A high-risk, high-reward move. Tetsu didn't have the funds for a breakout campaign, but this approach minimized losses if it failed. If it succeeded…
"If it succeeds, with Isaac's quality, it'll be a snowball rolling down a mountain!"
The snowball arrived.
Under Tetsu's expectant gaze, Sayoko's nervous stare, and Mitei's appreciative glance, as word-of-mouth fermented, The Binding of Isaac's sales exploded.
- One hour post-launch: 3,700 copies sold!
- Two hours: 12,300 copies!
- Three hours: 39,900 copies!
A roguelike hitting nearly 40,000 sales in three hours!
Everyone was stunned.
NTsoft was floored.
Even those who believed in Tetsu were slack-jawed. Three hours, 40,000 copies for a roguelike, with sales still skyrocketing!
What did this mean?
Not only could The Binding of Isaac potentially hit a million sales—it had broken out of its niche. Only a breakout could fuel this kind of meteoric rise.
"Breakout!" When Minister Koharu uttered the word, her voice trembling, and it spread through NTsoft, the company erupted.
Everyone knew what a breakout meant for a game—terrifying potential.
And it wasn't just NTsoft. Three hours, 40,000 sales, a roguelike, and Tetsu Fuyukawa. When these facts hit the internet, Japan's gaming industry was rocked by an earthquake.
A bolt from the blue!
Two months ago, amid winter's goose-feather snow, Tetsu's name rang out with I'm Surrounded by Beautiful Women. "Who is Tetsu Fuyukawa?"
A month later, in March, with cherry blossoms blooming and spring thunder roaring, Tetsu descended on Tokyo with a crying bald boy.
"Who is Tetsu Fuyukawa?!"
The same question, but with a different tone and meaning.
Japan's gaming companies were stunned. Seeing the tearful bald boy on screens, the barrage of comments flooding streams, and OTTO's comment section and sales spiking with every refresh, they were dumbfounded.
But this was just the start.
The Binding of Isaac, with its heavy Western aesthetic, was selling even better in Europe and America than in Japan.
"True god descended! Holy crap! F yeah! Mom, I finally played a real roguelike! This is divine!" one Western streamer raved.
"The West can't survive without Jerusalem? Bullshit! Christ the Savior only watches from above!" another commented.
"F me, this story's toxic! I came to have fun, not get stabbed in the heart! Everyone, sing with me: There's never been a savior!"
"This was made by an Asian guy? Let me see his past work—I'm Surrounded by Beautiful Women?! Is this an April Fool's joke?!"
"F, Mom's Leg?! Who the hell designs a boss like that?!"
"Is this guy really Asian? How does he know so much about Christianity?"
"Hurry up and serve me Sekiro! Let's see what other disgusting bosses you can cook up!"
Sales exploded! Reviews poured in!
By 6 p.m., global sales hit 132,700 copies in four and a half hours!
After 13 years, another roguelike blockbuster was born.
But this was still just the beginning.
In its original world, Isaac sold only 150 copies on launch day due to zero marketing and rampant bugs, clawing its way to success through fixes and word-of-mouth. Now, with NTsoft's backing and massive promotion, its potential was unleashed early.
Crucially, the game's Western style resonated deeply in Europe and America, markets Japan and Korea obsess over. And there was more—because of a bet agreement, Isaac's sales over two million copies would net Tetsu 60% of net profits, and over five million, 80%!
Holy hell!
A breakout hit, and Tetsu would rake in most of the profits?
"I'd rather buy the fame!" President Asai thought, furious. Seeing Isaac dominate Western markets and clutching the trembling bet agreement, he pushed through $20 million more in marketing funds at the shareholder meeting—$20 million, or 140 million RMB!
Under Tetsu's pained yet relieved gaze, The Binding of Isaac took off like a rocket. What took a decade to achieve in its original world was fast-tracked.
A super-invincible Armstrong spinning jet-propelled cannon!
As Tokyo's first cherry blossom rain fell, Tetsu had flattened the gaming world.
Five million, four hundred thirty thousand copies sold! Topping charts in Asia, the Americas, and Europe!
Despite over $20 million in marketing costs, everyone was floored by this dark horse made for just 5 million yen.
And soaring alongside the game was Tetsu.
Unlike I'm Surrounded by Beautiful Women, which was more interactive drama than game, The Binding of Isaac showcased Tetsu's terrifying game design skills, jaw-dropping creativity, and masterful storytelling.
No one questioned his talent anymore. No one snarked about him switching to filmmaking. Gaming media unanimously showered him with praise.
Then, the bet agreement with NTsoft leaked: 60% net profit share at two million copies, 80% at five million!
Eighty percent!
Everyone but Asai was numb. Sure, Isaac's 800-yen price was lower than I'm Surrounded by Beautiful Women, and the $20 million marketing spend ate into profits, but the deal was insane.
As sales growth slowed, Tetsu—torn between frustration over lost profits and pride in his success—earned a new title: "Fastest game producer to reach ten million sales." His name echoed through the gaming world.