NOVEL NEXT Chapter 31
It was already March, a few months after the dawn of the new year, 2013.
Even after the new year had well and truly begun, *Girls’ Memorial* was still cruising along successfully.
For three consecutive months, it had ranked at the top of the combined sales charts of both the Japanese Apple Store and Google Store.
Since *Girls’ Memorial* had achieved a level of success unprecedented for domestically produced mobile games, this naturally led to a surge in related articles within the community.
While I was regularly lurking on the community forums, one post caught my attention.
The content of the post was a fairly standard introduction to a new game. The title of this new game was *Bakery Lady*.
It was an SRPG with a distinctive retro-dot aesthetic, characteristic of indie games.
About the only thing that stood out was that it was a rare Chinese indie game, and the concept art was surprisingly good.
Considering that it barely piqued my own curious interest, the comments section predictably didn’t have much favorable reaction.
However, I knew exactly what kind of potential the CEO of this indie game development team possessed, thanks to my past memories before the regression.
In about three years from now, this studio’s CEO would collaborate with a publisher founded by his friends to develop a groundbreaking new game that would shake up the subculture mobile gaming market.
Of course, there were several trials and tribulations along the way, including various mistakes and legal disputes with the publisher, but…
“Wasn’t the CEO’s name… Won-jung?”
The name itself was quite common, so it was hard to remember, but I recalled it thanks to the phrase “Won-jungbimoh,” which had become a catchphrase.
While reminiscing about my memories from before the regression, I found myself pondering the situation and eventually opened the proposal template window.
Even without my interference, I was sure that the director was going to achieve the same success as in the previous timeline.
However, by providing various forms of support and drawing on my knowledge from the previous timeline, it would be possible to minimize the trial-and-error phase, making his journey smoother.
I didn’t want to pass up this opportunity to assist a game that was destined for success, as it offered the potential for many benefits in return.
—
Having made up my mind, I immediately drafted the proposal and submitted it to Su-yeon.
I wasn’t particularly optimistic, though. After all, compared to the proposal for *Girls’ Memorial*, this one lacked a detailed account of the basis for future predictions.
Upon reflection, it was impossible to give objective reasons.
“I have knowledge from the previous timeline and I believe this indie game developer is a hidden gem, so I’m suggesting an investment.”
That was simply not something I could write.
In the end, the proposal was completed without substantial supporting evidence and was directly submitted to Su-yeon.
Soon after, I received a call to the president’s room.
“You’re here? Take a seat on the sofa.”
The person who summoned me, Su-yeon, seemed to be busy. She was typing furiously on the keyboard while wearing glasses.
“You’ve gotten a new pair of glasses, haven’t you?”
“This? Lately, my eyesight seems to have gotten worse.”
“I see.”
About five minutes of exchanging trivial pleasantries passed, then Su-yean stopped typing, removed her glasses, and walked towards me.
The spring air suited her casual attire of jeans and a beige knit shirt.
“What would you like to drink? Tea, coffee, or soda?”
“I’ll have a soda, please.”
With that, Su-yeon walked to the refrigerator and brought back a can of coffee for herself and a can of soda for me.
“Do you know why I called you to the president’s office?”
“Ah, yes…”
Su-yeon, now comfortably seated across from me, pulled out the proposal I had submitted.
“Ho-jin, you know that I trust you. Right?”
“Yes.”
“That’s why, if this proposal had properly outlined the basis for its claims like usual, I would have approved it just like before.”
“…”
“However, this proposal lacks the usual thoroughness we’ve come to expect from you. The grounds for predicting the future success are nowhere near as solid as they were for *Girls’ Memorial* or Ye-na’s project.”
Su-yeon tilted her head and looked at me.
“Instead of the vague explanations in the proposal, I’d like to hear the real reason you’re so interested in this indie game developer.”
Caught off guard, I hesitated.
I wasn’t sure how much of it I should explain.
Misinterpreting my hesitation, Su-yeon’s voice softened further.
“If this is all, I’ll be really disappointed in you, Ho-jin. Is this really all you have to say?”
“No, that’s not it… I’m just unsure where to begin.”
“From the beginning to the end, exactly as it is.”
“As it is… Understood.”
Responding to Su-yeon’s persistence, I explained everything I knew, excluding the memories from my past life.
As I spoke, I observed Su-yeon’s face gradually transform into an expression of incredulity.
“So, in summary, you chose this developer because they have strong connections in the Chinese subculture industry and you see potential in the game?”
“Yes.”
“Hmm… Ho-jin, does your family tradition include any fortune-telling abilities, like a shaman?”
“Of course not.”
“Then how can you predict the success of this developer based only on what you’ve mentioned?”
Faced with her questioning, I shrugged.
“It’s an instinct.”
“Instinct, instinct…?”
After contemplating for a moment, her serious expression faltered upon hearing my response, and she laughed, shaking her head.
“If Ho-jin trusts so strongly in this instinct, there’s nothing I can do… do as you please.”
“Really?”
“If we’ve come this far thanks to Ho-jin’s instincts, I might as well trust you again.”
“G, thank you.”
“By the way, I’m just confirming—this game developer’s representative isn’t someone you know personally, is he?”
“Not at all.”
With that, Su-yeon nodded, stood up, and concluded.
“Then today’s meeting is over… you can go back to your work. The rest will be communicated through Yumi.”
“Understood.”
—
With the approval of the proposal, things began to progress in earnest.
Still, the approved proposal came with its fair share of issues, the most pressing being the method of support.
Going the direct investment route was too cumbersome and would put unnecessary pressure on Su-yeon, so it was off the table.
However, without direct investment, it was hard to come up with any alternative ways to proceed, and this problem gave me a headache for quite some time.
In what felt like a rather anticlimactic turn of events, this issue was resolved with just a single comment from Yumi.
“If it’s support for indie game developers, why don’t you check out our internal indie game support program.”
“We have our own indie game support program?”
“Yes, did you know?”
“I’ve never heard of it.”
“It’s probably because it’s been implemented recently. Director, you should look into it.”
Curious, I checked and sure enough, the company had a real indie game support program.
Not only did it provide financial assistance for development but also imparted expertise in live-service game development and partnerships.
It was the perfect support package for Won-jung, who was struggling through trial and error without experience in live-service games.
With our support strategy in place, the next step was to contact the subject of our efforts.
At this point, Jacky team was the epitome of an indie game studio, lacking even a proper homepage.
Even though I knew where Won-jung lived from my past memories, there was no clear way to contact him.
Eventually, after some inquiries and with help from Enson Korea’s China branch, I was able to arrange a meeting with the elusive Won-jung.
On the day of the meeting, Yumi and I entered the company reception room to find a familiar-looking man.
Short, neatly trimmed hair and a pair of black framed glasses. Won-jung, the CEO of Jacky team, exactly as I remembered.
I extended my hand for a handshake.
“It’s an honor to meet you. I’m Jihojin, the general director of the mobile game development team with Enson GT. And this is—”
“Yumi Kang, similar to Director Ho-jin, I handle the business PM for the mobile game development team. Nice to meet you.”
Won-jung quickly rose to his feet and reciprocated the handshake.
“I’m Won-jung. I’ve been a huge fan of *Girls’ Memorial*, so I’m especially honored to meet you in person.”
“Thank you, please take a seat.”
After the handshake, Yumi and I settled into the chairs in the reception room, and Won-jung followed suit.
“The reason I invited you here today, as I mentioned in the email, is because we’d like to offer our support to you and Jacky team.”
Won-jung nodded, but with what appeared to be a hint of skepticism in his voice, he asked.
“I’ve heard that, and I’m really grateful for the opportunity. However, I would like to understand why our team was specifically chosen.”
His attitude reeked of lacking confidence.
From Won-jung’s perspective, it made sense to feel this way.
At this point, there was no reason for Enson to assist Jacky team.
Enson wasn’t a domestic Chinese enterprise, there was no personal relationship with Won-jung, and *Bakery Lady* hadn’t achieved international acclaim.
To him, it must have felt like walking down the street and being handed a gold nugget.
It was natural for him to harbor some skepticism, and there was only one way to address it: honesty.
“I played *Bakery Lady* a few weeks ago. It was, honestly, unexpectedly fun for an indie game.”
“Thank you.”
“Frankly, it amazed me how a high-quality SRPG like yours could originate in China, a place often considered barren for subculture.”
Won-jung offered a faint smile at my comment.
“I appreciate your kind words. That’s the truth, after all.”
“Thank you for acknowledging that. Anyway, after playing your game, I looked into you, Won-jung, and discovered you have strong connections with notable figures in the Chinese subculture scene.”
“…”
“The reason I want to support you, Won-jung, is simple.”
Won-jung regarded me with a tense expression.
Looking at him, I continued my explanation.
“I’ve invested in your abilities and network. I believe in your potential to succeed.”