This is nuts!
Zoey Parker's brain was reeling. If Cat Leo looked like a total mess at first glance, Gus Shepard's new project was straight-up unhinged.
At least Cat Leo had a clear vibe—you could tell it was a platformer, with jumping and dodging as the core. But this new game? Based on Gus's pitch, Zoey couldn't even wrap her head around it.
A kid causing havoc while a dad scrambles to keep things under control? Where's the appeal in that?
Zoey was lost, half-convinced Gus needed a reality check. But one thing was crystal: this bizarre idea had no shot at selling.
It was already on a niche track, and with that weird setup, it was practically screaming "flop." Perfect.
Zoey's heart did a little flip. This was her chance to rake in the rebate Cat Leo robbed her of. Time to make bank.
She nodded, barely hiding her grin. "Love it, Gus. I'm all in, even if it's a bit… out there."
"Get moving on it. Ask for anything—especially budget stuff. WindyPeak's got you covered, no questions asked."
What a boss! Gus gave a mental fist bump. From Zoey's blank stare, she clearly didn't get the game at all—total confusion written all over her face.
But she trusted him, like a student nodding through a professor's lecture without a clue. With a boss like that, what more could he ask for?
Gus swore to himself he'd make WindyPeak a powerhouse, proving Zoey's faith wasn't misplaced.
"Thanks for the trust, boss," he said. "Since we're on it, I've got one small request."
"Lay it on me," Zoey said, leaning in. "Company's all ears."
Gus grinned, a bit shy. "This project's a lot bigger than Cat Leo, so I think we need a bigger team. A full crew needs a lead programmer for the engine and maintenance, plus a lead artist for scenes and character models. Outsourcing everything's dicey—too many leaks for future projects."
He didn't mention he was also doubling as the lead planner. The Game Vault System gave him semi-finished games with gameplay and story already built in, so he handled level design and logic himself. It saved money and kept the game's heart intact.
With Gus as both producer and planner, he owned the vision, ensuring nothing got watered down.
Zoey nodded like her life depended on it. Yes! Spend big!
"Gus, that's a great call!" she said, waving a hand. "Chloe, start hiring. We want top talent—experienced, skilled, the best. Pay them whatever; money's no object."
Her Investment Rebate System didn't count Gus's salary as part of the investment. But every other hire? That was pure budget fuel. More people, higher salaries, bigger investment—harder to break even, bigger rebates.
Sure, she couldn't go wild—like paying a janitor a million bucks. That'd flag as cheating. But hiring skilled pros at top rates? Fair game.
Before Chloe could respond, Gus cut in. "Uh… maybe we don't need to go that hard?"
Zoey and Chloe blinked, thrown off.
"What's that mean?" Zoey asked, tilting her head.
Gus smiled. "Instead of grabbing industry hotshots who've job-hopped forever, why not build our own team from the ground up?"
"Our own team?" Chloe raised an eyebrow.
"Yeah," Gus said. "I'd rather train newbies than deal with so-called 'experts.'"
He had his reasons. This was a parallel world—a creative desert where games were stuck in a loop. The industry churned out the same old action, multiplayer, shooter, or racing games, with no spark.
Gaming was supposed to be art, full of imagination. But the "pros" here were just drones, chained to outdated ideas. They saw a hit shooter and decided every game needed fixed crosshairs, 100 health points, and bomb-defusing missions. They saw a racing game and thought it had to be all about speed and shiny cars.
They missed the bigger picture.
A shooter could have dynamic aiming or health tied to pacing. A driving game could be about cruising, not racing, letting players chill and take in the view.
Gus had big plans—games that broke the mold. He needed a team with fresh minds, not folks obsessed with "what sells" or "what's safe."
Games were just code—zeros and ones, boring on their own. But in those combinations, you could craft sweeping landscapes, epic stories, or deep human moments.
That's the gaming Gus lived for.
"So, I'm asking the company to let me bring in two friends," he said. "They're like me—still pumped about making games that push limits."