In ESC's MOD plug-in system, the interface was filled with long strings of text. Daniel couldn't read them, yet the loaded images were still clear enough to understand. He could make out familiar figures like Ulfric, the leader of the Stormcloaks, and the banner of their rebellion, rendered prominently at the beginning of the story.
Recalling the words his friend had left for him on the messaging platform, and glancing again at the MOD running on his screen, Daniel felt a sudden chill, as if he had stumbled onto something he wasn't supposed to. The door to a new world?
When he replayed that sentence in his mind, it no longer sounded exciting but ominous.
"Ding-ling, ding-ling!"
His thoughts were broken by the shrill ring of the phone on his desk. Before Daniel could answer, a breathless voice shouted through the receiver: "That's incredible, Daniel! Have you tried The Elder Scrolls: Skyrim yet? And the mod I sent you? It's unbelievable! Are you free this weekend? Come over and play together!"
Glancing at the glowing ESC loading screen and then at the phone in his hand, Daniel hesitated before replying: "I think… maybe I've got something going on Saturday. As for that MOD you mentioned, it might not really be my thing. Let's just talk by text later, okay?"
He ended the call quickly, exhaling in relief, yet the unease lingered. His eyes drifted back to the MOD screen. He had nearly shut it down, but curiosity tugged at him again. What if it really wasn't what he feared? What if it was just a harmless experiment? Besides, he had already spent hours downloading it. Not even opening it once, wouldn't that be a waste?
Muttering to himself, Daniel grabbed his phone and opened a translation app, determined to at least figure out what the cryptic options on the plug-in menu meant.
Meanwhile, just two blocks away, another young man was watching his own screen with a puzzled look. He whispered, "What's going on with Daniel? He used to love this kind of stuff… so why's he acting so strange today?"
On his monitor, a dragon-born avatar, wearing nothing but modded animations, was cavorting awkwardly. The young man frowned, shook his head, then gave up trying to figure it out, focusing instead on the game itself.
Thanks to UEGame's backing and the momentum of Epic Continent, Skyrim's entry into the market had been anything but quiet. There was no massive pre-launch blitz, but the push from publishers ensured that word spread quickly.
On release day, The Elder Scrolls: Skyrim surged past Epic Continent, claiming the top spot in sales. UEGame proudly announced that the game had already sold more than two million copies in its first twenty-four hours. Even without a huge buildup, those numbers were striking.
Critics across the globe reacted strongly. Major outlets like MC, COG, and Famitsu published glowing reviews. Even the harshest outlet, MC, gave it an 8.8, while others rated it much higher.
Still, compared with Epic Continent, Skyrim's average score was a step lower. The difference wasn't entirely about gameplay; many suspected it had more to do with the fact that Skyrim had been developed in China. No one admitted it openly, but a certain bias could be felt.
Domestic outlets told a different story. Publications like Starry Sky hailed Skyrim as a landmark achievement, pouring out praise. Though Epic Continent also earned glowing reviews, its media ratings never quite matched the feverish acclaim surrounding Skyrim.
John paid little attention to these debates. To him, the domestic response had already proven Skyrim a success. The fantasy themes translated seamlessly across cultures, and nothing about the plot risked alienating foreign players. His focus had already shifted. New projects demanded his energy, and new worlds waited to be built.
As the week unfolded, Skyrim and Epic Continent clashed daily on the charts. UEGame and Power Storm threw their full weight behind their promotions, and the industry buzz painted the two titles as twin titans locked in combat.
By morning, Skyrim might lead. By afternoon, Epic Continent could take it back. Neither side yielded an inch, and the battle looked destined for a stalemate.
Inside the offices of PixelPioneers Games, work pressed forward on multiple fronts. Recruitment from top universities was already underway, and Armani had collected detailed reports on the latest VR devices.
"As expected," Armani said, handing the papers to John, "prices have dropped, but performance has fallen sharply too. With this level of hardware, VR won't be mainstream anytime soon."
"Not necessarily," John replied with a smile. "For other industries, maybe. But with the right exclusive games, even expensive VR can carve out a place. Players will pay if the experience is unique enough."
Hardware alone meant nothing without games to give it life.
"I think we should invest," John continued, "but not too heavily. Just enough to stay prepared. If VR truly takes off one day, we can't afford to be caught without the basics."
Armani nodded, though another problem weighed on him. "The comic division's stabilized, but we still lack enough strong artists willing to sign long-term. Without creators, no comic company can thrive."
John waved the concern aside. "That's fine. We don't need to dominate the comics industry. Our only goal is to strengthen the IPs under PixelPioneers Games."
Again, Armani conceded the point, though he pressed further.
"The bigger issue is structure. One project after another isn't sustainable. With our current finances, we could easily handle two full 3A games at the same time. Yet you keep running things too cautiously, mixing one big title with a handful of small ones. Honestly, it feels wasteful."
From Armani's perspective, John's caution bordered on needless restraint. The truth was that John already possessed more wealth than he could spend in ten lifetimes. Even if he sold off every IP in the portfolio, the fortune would outlast him a hundred times over.
Armani was certain John's ambition wasn't about money. He dreamed of making PixelPioneers Games rival giants like Gemtechs. Yet, paradoxically, he was almost frugal when it came to green-lighting projects.
John sighed. "I want that too. But right now, no one else here can carry a 3A project alone. And the kind of talent we need isn't easy to find. I even considered Martel from Mercury Studio, but he hasn't given me an answer."
It was true. Even Skyrim, a project John could blueprint from his dream memories, had only reached completion because Martel, with backing from Gemtechs, stepped in to strengthen Mercury Studio.
John knew that if he handed his current team a complete GDD and asked them to deliver a 3A on their own, they would fail. Without someone else who shared his peculiar gift of memory, no one could hold it together.
For mid-scale projects like Auto Chess or Red Alert, he had capable leads. But for another Skyrim-sized challenge, he still stood alone.