Silver Wolf scrolled through the proposal with clinical precision.
She could see what Julian was trying to do. He wanted to perfectly replicate the soul of that animation—Pokémon with distinct, evolving personalities, a deep bond between humans and creatures, and battles that resonated with genuine emotion. While the document lacked professional polish, it was clear he had obsessed over the balance between a playable game and a living world.
If built exactly to these specs, the virtual reality version would be indistinguishable from a second life.
She sighed, her neon-lit room reflected in her glasses as she began typing her response.
Silver Wolf: "I've finished the read. Honestly? It's amazing. But here's the reality check: with your current tech and zero capital, you couldn't build ten percent of this."
Silver Wolf: "Even if I handle the backend for free, we're hitting a wall. I'm a hacker, Julian. I can rewrite reality, but I can't conjure the massive computing power needed for high-level AI NPCs and Pokémon. The server maintenance alone would bankrupt a small planet."
She didn't stop there. She systematically tore apart the logistical impossibilities.
Silver Wolf: "Galaxy-wide networking? Forget it. Even the IPC doesn't dare to sync everything in real-time across the stars because the lag and the energy costs are astronomical. Most studios stick to regional or team-based instances to keep their heads above water. And real-time command AI for the battles? You're looking at a fortune in licensing fees."
Julian stared at his Jade Abacus, a headache blooming behind his eyes. He had been so focused on the "what" that he'd completely ignored the "how." In the Honkai universe, the technology existed to make Pokémon real, but the price tag was enough to make even the Interstellar Peace Corporation hesitate.
"System," he whispered to the empty library, "could you maybe be a little more useful?"
There was no answer. He looked at the towering bookshelves, feeling the sudden weight of his insignificance. Was he really destined to just be a librarian?
Silver Wolf: "My suggestion? Build a 'Lite' version. Use the animation to build the hype and the IP. Accumulate funds through the series and basic game sales, then use that capital to upgrade the tech. Treat this proposal as the endgame, not the starting line."
The advice was a lifeline. Julian's mind immediately pivoted. If he couldn't have the "Gold" version yet, he could still win with a polished "Silver."
Julian: "What if we change the networking? Keep the open-world map, but make it primarily a single-player experience with optional co-op."
He was thinking of the "Genshin" model—utilizing the player's local hardware for the heavy lifting and only pinging the servers for essential data and matchmaking.
Silver Wolf: "Smart. That slashes the networking overhead. We can do the same for the Pokémon AI—load the base personality matrices onto the user's device instead of a central cloud. It won't be 'Sentient Life' level, but it'll feel alive enough for a first release."
They transitioned into a video call, their faces illuminated by the blue light of their respective terminals. For hours, they brainstormed how to strip the bloat without losing the magic.
Julian: "We can vary the battle modes by device. Turn-based for mobile Jade Abacuses, action-oriented for high-end PCs, and full real-time command for the virtual reality rigs. The high-end hardware can handle the extra processing."
Silver Wolf: "The VR version will have to wait, but the virtual and holographic versions are doable. Holographic projectors have enough built-in logic to handle the creature's pathing and basic reactions."
By the time they finished, the plan was solid. It was a "cut-down" Pokémon, but it was still light-years ahead of anything on the market.
"This works for Version 1.0," Silver Wolf said, leaning back in her gaming chair. "But you still have a major problem: money."
Julian winced.
"I can crack the dev software for you and get us past the gatekeepers," she continued, "but servers, marketing, and the initial launch in a local star system? You're looking at ten million Credits, minimum. And that's if we stay local to the Luofu's sector."
"Ten million," Julian repeated.
Since joining the Commission, he had lived like a monk, yet he'd only managed to save three hundred thousand Credits. At this rate, he'd be an old man before the first Poké Ball was coded.
"And one more thing," Silver Wolf added. "You need to remaster that animation. Use modern rendering. The moves need to pop. To get people into the game, they need to fall in love with the screen first."
"I understand," Julian said, his voice resolute. "I'll find a way."
"Good. I'll handle the programming architecture. I'll send you a cracked AI art suite—start learning it. You're the 'Art Director' now."
She didn't ask for a percentage of the profits or a contract. For her, the reward was the game itself—the chance to play something that actually challenged her.
Julian hung up, the silence of the library returning. Ten million Credits. He looked at his savings balance and then at his keyboard.
"I guess I need to make a 'quick money' game first," he muttered. "Something addictive. Something simple. Something... frustrating."