Tuesday, the final day of the Tokyo International Game Festival.
"Director Moriya, you called?" Yuki Kamikawa pushed open Tetsuya Moriya's office door, Komina's gaming division head.
Two others were there: Muneki Sato and Kazu Okura. Yuki grinned. The Silent Hill P.T. team was back after a week's break. With P.T.'s hype and 38% KMN-3 login rate, outpacing Yakuza's 14.21%, the execs surely wanted to fast-track the full game.
But Moriya's face was grim, not eager. "Everyone's here. Let's have a closed meeting. Any objections?"
The three froze. Komina's closed meetings were secretive, unrecorded, for sensitive matters. Attendees swore silence. They knew the drill, but why now?
Exchanging uneasy glances, they nodded.
Moriya pulled three slim business plans from his drawer. "This is the draft for Silent Hill's full version. Read carefully. Take your time."
Yuki frowned at the cover: Silent Hill Project (Draft). She dove in.
The game kept P.T.'s surface and inner worlds. The protagonist, James, a plastic surgeon, got a letter from his wife, inviting him to Silent Hill, reminiscing about their past. It seemed normal—except James was widowed, his wife dead three years.
With mixed emotions, James arrived, facing bizarre monsters. One stood out: a headless woman in an apron, a relentless nightmare, reborn after every kill. James fought to a mansion, finding photos of himself and the aproned woman.
Truth hit: James was the murderer from P.T.'s radio, evading justice via plastic surgery. He returned to kill his "resurrected" wife. In the mansion's kitchen, he shot her, but leaking gas ignited. An explosion ended him—retribution.
Yuki closed the plan, her expression heavy. She glanced at Sato and Okura, their faces mirroring hers. The story was complete, themed on karma, but it wasn't Silent Hill.
Sato spoke first. "Mr. Moriya, is this… Sam Harper's plan?"
Moriya shrugged. "What do you think?"
Yuki cut in. "It's not his. It's too… ordinary."
P.T.'s mystique—vague metaphors, cryptic storytelling, open-ended dread—made it iconic. This draft was a straightforward monster-slaying tale with a villain protagonist. Decent, but not P.T.
Moriya sighed, unsurprised. "What if we make this the main Silent Hill project? Impact on sales?"
Sato didn't hesitate. "It'll tank. As a standalone, it's fine. As P.T.'s sequel, it's a letdown. The IP's reputation, hyped by media and players, will take a hit. Conservatively, sales drop 20%. Worst case, halved."
Yuki and Okura gasped. A fifth, maybe half, gone for a weaker script?
Yuki pressed, "Are we developing Silent Hill without WindyPeak?"
Moriya nodded slowly. The execs wanted to cut WindyPeak's 30% profit share, keeping Silent Hill's potential blockbuster revenue.
Yuki's anger flared. "This is insane! Ditching WindyPeak means ditching Sam Harper—the soul of P.T.! You think Komina can replicate his 'King of Terror' magic?"
Yesterday, in Komina's conference room, Moriya had argued the same at a closed meeting led by President Keizo Kamijo. Tsuna Yamamoto, Kamijo's protégé, pushed to take over Silent Hill alongside Yakuza.
Kamijo, a businessman blind to games, saw Sam as an outsider taking 30%. Yamamoto, with decades of experience, was his loyal alternative. They planned to oust WindyPeak.
Moriya protested. "This is reckless, Mr. President! Sam created P.T.'s unique horror. Replacing him risks everything."
Yamamoto smirked. "Changing directors mid-project is common. P.T.'s just a demo. I'll handle the full game."
Moriya snapped, slamming the table. "Shut your damn mouth, Yamamoto! Who do you think you are, interrupting me?"
Yamamoto shrank. Moriya, second only to Kamijo, outranked him vastly. "Keep quiet while I talk to the president, got it?"
Yamamoto glanced at Kamijo, mumbling, "But teacher…"
Slap! Kamijo struck him, hard. "Use my title at work! Get out!"