At the top of the High Claw Group headquarters, a towering skyscraper that pierced the clouds over Coruscant, Garfield looked out at the city below.
He hadn't bought the entire building. There was no need.
They didn't have that many employees, nor did they need that many. Aside from a necessary maintenance team and the event staff recruited later, that was it.
No public relations department or planning department. No artists or other typical game company personnel.
Besides, this was the interstellar age. You didn't need to go to the office in person. Most of the work could be done from home.
The so-called office was mostly symbolic.
With the game's popularity, the rent for the entire building had increased, but High Claw Group's rent hadn't gone up much.
The landlord was very reasonable. All he wanted was a special skin released each year.
Being an understanding cat, Garfield naturally complied.
In fact, Garfield's funds could easily buy ten such buildings, let alone one. Coruscant real estate was expensive, yes, but still not as expensive as a Star Destroyer.
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Jean lazily crawled out of bed.
She had stayed up too late last night, not falling asleep until around four in the morning.
What had she been playing? Games, of course.
As the company's authorized key person in charge, she didn't participate in the game's design or management. But you know how it is.
Playing games should feel like a real gaming experience.
So she didn't bother with any special equipment, no GM sets, no boss-issued judgments. Instead, she roamed the vast ocean of the game as a complete novice.
Dying immediately upon landing.
Being a frequent "delivery boy"—the term for someone eliminated early. These were common occurrences.
She loved every second of it.
Half-asleep, she was woken by her robot butler. Jean Gray tossed and turned in bed, refusing to get up.
Finally, the ancient sunlight streaming into her high-rise mansion on Cloud Peak spurred her to rise.
She crawled out of bed, perfectly displaying her enviable S-shaped figure. This mansion had been bought for her by her boss as a performance bonus.
She thought about how she had gotten here. Unemployed for so long. Her resume sitting on the job market for over a year.
Living a life of seclusion.
Then, suddenly, she had been noticed by an unknown boss. And subsequently, she had begun building and operating a company.
Anyone with basic skill could set up a company.
The group's current growth and expansion were built on the foundation of the game and the boss's foresight.
Deep down, she knew her success was just a matter of luck.
She wasn't immune to ridicule, especially from bankrupt competitors who secretly criticized her. Some even hoped to take her place.
Unfortunately for them, they didn't have her contact information.
"Why would we think you're bankrupt?" the mockery went. "High Claw Group is thriving."
It wasn't like no one had tried to replicate the game. After all, it was just code and images.
In the Star Wars era, robots could replace humans in missions far too quickly.
But it was all for naught.
*Galaxy Survival* was the mainstream genre, covering the entire universe. You could have a niche game, sure. But not many people would play it.
Jean Gray knew she was hated.
That was why the security level of her residence and office building was no less than a military restricted area.
It wasn't for secrecy, there was nothing to keep secret. The servers were inside their building.
For security, Garfield had deployed two Star Destroyers overhead.
A large number of Hornet fighters and robot soldiers patrolled twenty-four hours a day, seven days a week.
Anyone who dared to cause trouble would be sent back to nature.
Such people weren't uncommon.
Madmen. Envious losers. Those who had lost their way. They hired reckless space mercenaries, thieves, and robbers to attack.
Then the robots would be riddled with holes or turned into fireworks in mid-air.
The area around the High Claw Corporation building, especially underground, had three layers of protective fencing added during security periods, to prevent metal fragments from falling and causing civilian casualties.
The interior of High Claw Corporation was still relatively quiet.
But due to the game's popularity, many fans came hoping to visit. Garfield had specially set up an exhibition hall on one floor for them.
The actual office building, however, remained closed to the public.
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After getting up, Jean did some light exercise, took a shower, and went to the dining table to eat the breakfast prepared by the robot chef.
Then she inquired about her work schedule for the day.
Her secretarial team wasn't a single person, but a team of ten, comprised of both humans and robots, each with specific roles.
At least four were on standby around Jean Gray at all times.
"What's the work schedule for today?" she asked.
The secretary replied, "Besides not reporting to the boss, there's only one thing."
"Yesterday, the butler contacted me. The new tax officer wants to speak with you."
Tax officer?
Her company had always been transparent with its income. She hadn't fully understood why at first, but later she realized.
Financial transparency meant all income was on the table. Easy audits. No need to expend energy dealing with anything.
High taxes meant no one would bother you. Especially since Garfield held the title of Jedi Elder, even if it was only honorary.
What did the Jedi Elder represent? High-level law enforcement authority within the Galactic Republic.
They were only responsible for security and peace, but that didn't stop them from eliminating corrupt elements.
A new tax officer?
Jean Gray scratched her head and muttered to herself, "When did we get a new tax officer?"
The secretary said, "I checked. It's an official communication."
But something still felt off.
Jean Gray, following procedure, asked, "When would be a convenient time for them to come to our headquarters? I'd like to discuss it there."
The robot secretary proved useful, connecting to the internet and sending the reply.
A short while later, the robot secretary's internal email program pinged.
"The other party has replied," the secretary said. "The new tax officer will be coming to our group's headquarters."
Jean Gray's face fell.
She didn't want to go to headquarters. She didn't have much work today.
She had wanted to go to the Jedi Temple, to report on work, maybe get some cat food, and have a nice lunch.
Although she was now wealthy and lived a comfortable life, she still felt that the same ingredients tasted best at her boss's place.
Perhaps it was because her boss's orange, liquid-like cat body possessed a special electromagnetic wave that made the food taste better.
The secretarial team knew Jean Gray's preferences.
Ever since she had gotten a boss, her room had been filled with orange cat toys, much to the displeasure of her own cats.
But for some reason, her cats didn't like the toys.
They never bothered them, nor did they show any affection for Jean like before. Unless she actively tried to hold them, they kept their distance.
The secretary reminded Jean, who was gazing toward the Jedi Temple with visible eagerness.
"Madam, work comes first."