"Is this just a forced tragedy to make the players unhappy, or did Kogahara Tsubakiaki himself experience similar pain?" the player pressed. "I can't accept that such a wonderful girl would end up sacrificed like this."
And it was the only possible ending.
A heavy silence fell over the room.
Everyone felt the same way.
Including Aoki Haruhi himself.
"A sense of destiny."
Just then, a voice rang out from the audience.
All eyes turned toward the speaker—a strikingly young man in his early twenties.
He had imperfect skin, small eyes, a flat-top haircut, and arched eyebrows that gave him a somewhat fierce expression.
Ayase Akane quickly hurried over and handed him the microphone.
He took the mic, stood up, and replied earnestly, "After playing Onmyoji, the one thing that struck me most deeply throughout the game was this—
A sense of destiny.
Don't you feel it too?
Asakura Haruka's arrival on Immortal Spirit Island might seem like a coincidence, but it was actually fated."
Ten years ago, he saved the Moon Kingdom as an Onmyōji—or rather, he saved the Yuuki Rei who were fleeing the disaster and sent them to Immortal Spirit Island.
At the time, however, he had no idea what the future held.
From the day they were born, the Izanagi Clan was destined to fight Yamata no Orochi, sacrificing themselves to seal it. That was their fate.
Izanagi was like that.
Ling's mother was like that.
In that sense, Ling's sacrifice had been predetermined from the start.
Or perhaps it was precisely this overwhelming sense of fate that made the story so unforgettable, so deeply etched in our hearts.
I truly admire and long for such a narrative.
It gave me a new and profound understanding of galgame games.
Ah~ so games can do this too.
Hmm~ that ending was truly devastating.
I want to create a work that can tear people's hearts apart and leave them utterly devastated.
Ah, this...
Although Aoki Haruhi was grateful for the player's intervention, he felt this guy had misunderstood something.
"That's exactly right. The reason we feel such pain is precisely because the game was made so beautifully."
Another player stood up.
He was small in stature, and though a boy, he had long hair that fell over his eyes. The soft fuzz on his upper lip was still visible, but he struck a cool pose.
Aoki Haruhi's heart tightened.
This kid looked pretty young. Was he even 18?
Could a middle schooler be secretly playing galgames?
"We don't care if ugly things are destroyed," the boy said in a deep, resonant voice, flipping his bangs aside. "But when beautiful things are torn apart, it's truly heartbreaking. That's the greatest truth I learned from Onmyoji. It turns out games can do this too. It turns out the destruction of beauty can be so... beautiful."
Hey, this is already cult-like rhetoric! Aoki Haruhi grumbled inwardly.
"President, my admiration for Teacher Guhara is as boundless as the sun and moon. He's a true genius, especially in scriptwriting," the boy said, his eyes burning with intensity.
"Hmm... I'll be sure to pass that on to Teacher Guhara," Aoki Haruhi replied shamelessly.
The development team members around them shot him looks of contempt.
After the meeting, Aoki Haruhi felt utterly drained.
To be honest, interacting with players was even more exhausting than actual work.
"You've all worked hard. This meeting was a great success," Aoki Haruhi said with a smile. "Head back and get some rest. Oh, and don't forget to compile today's content into a report and submit it."
"Ah?! No way!" A chorus of groans rose from the stage.
Aoki Haruhi chuckled lightly, inwardly ecstatic.
Just then, he looked up and noticed several players still lingering below, seemingly waiting to speak with him privately after the crowd dispersed.
Among them were the Flat-Top Man who had earlier helped him out and resolved a long-standing question, as well as the slightly younger, cool-looking teen.
"Um, is there anything else you need?" Aoki Haruhi asked the remaining players patiently.
"I've always wanted to work in the game industry, especially as a scriptwriter," the Flat-Top Man said. "President Qing, if it's possible, could you give me a chance?"
"Me too!" the teen chimed in.
"Huh?"
"Not bad."
Aoki Haruhi smiled happily.
As a game producer, there was nothing more rewarding than receiving praise from players. But even more so, if he could inspire the next generation to dream of making games, then all the effort would truly be worth it.
His gaze fell on the flat-top, small-eyed young man. He felt a sense of familiarity, as if he'd seen him somewhere before, but couldn't quite place him.
"Game development isn't just about impulsive passion, you know," Aoki Haruhi said with a polite smile. "There's a big difference between players and creators."
"I know that, of course," the flat-top man replied after a pause. "I've been writing my own stories since high school. If you'd like, I can show you."
Hmm, quite determined.
And full of passion.
To be honest, hearing this made Aoki Haruhi's heart swell with joy. He saw a reflection of his younger self in this young man—the one who grew up in China, fell in love with games, and resolved to become a game developer.
"How old are you?" Aoki Haruhi asked.
"18. I've already graduated from high school," the flat-top man replied.
In Japan, many people enter the workforce immediately after high school, with only a minority going on to university.
At Pokeni, many employees are high school graduates, like Ishino Mika and Ayase Akane.
Only technical roles, such as hardware engineer Senkawa Hiroichi and programmer Akanishi Ken, are university graduates.
"What's your name?" Aoki Haruhi asked, growing curious.
The flat-top youth's heart soared. He stood up and bowed deeply to Aoki Haruhi. "Urobuchi Gen. Please take care of me."
Huh?!
Aoki Haruhi was stunned.
Urobuchi Gen—the infamous "Warrior of Love," creator of such "healing" masterpieces as Song of Saya, Fate/Zero, and Puella Magi Madoka Magica. He was notorious for his relentless and heartless plot twists, driving both players and audiences to love and hate him in equal measure.
They loved him for elevating his craft to unprecedented heights, his trademarks being his boundless imagination, delicate prose, and soul-shattering narratives.
Aoki Haruhi had been deeply wounded by him in the past.
"I want one too," the boy beside him said, afraid Aoki Haruhi might forget about him.
"And you, kid?" Aoki Haruhi asked casually.
His mind was still stuck on the question of whether the "Warrior of Love" actually wanted to join Pokeni.
"Maeda Jun. I turned sixteen today. I'll graduate high school soon. Please take good care of me!" The boy bowed to him.
Ah, this...
Aoki Haruhi broke out in a cold sweat.
Oh my god!
If he were to recruit both the Warrior of Love and the Great Demon King of Tears to Pokeni...
Aoki Haruhi couldn't even imagine what kind of disaster that would be.
It would probably be more than just players sending him razor blades, right?!
This pair was practically the healing genre's equivalent of the Sleeping Dragon and Phoenix!
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