"Contestant Number Nine, Evan Carter, please come to the stage."
Evan checked that the USB drive was still in his pocket, then walked up with the same calmness he'd had all morning.
But the moment he reached the podium, the student host—an adorable junior with bright eyes and little canine teeth—asked him something that made him choke on his own breath.
"Senior… do you want to forfeit?"
Evan stared at her. Speechless.
"No, no, absolutely not. I'm here to win this thing!"
The host blinked, surprised, then gave him a warm smile. "Then good luck, senior!"
Down in the audience, Richard Langford frowned as he watched Evan start setting up. He remembered clearly how broken and defeated the contestants after him had looked. Evan was the first one to come on stage with complete composure.
For some reason, Richard felt uneasy.
Onstage, Evan plugged in his drive and launched his game.
A full black screen appeared. And stayed there.
In the audience, his roommates burst into soft laughter.They already knew what was happening—they'd tested his game.
"I swear his opening load takes like five minutes," Mark Dawson sighed.
"Didn't Evan say he optimized it? Even so, it's still gotta be at least three," Gavin Wells added with a grin.
On stage, Evan glanced at the blank loading screen, then at the host.
"Hey, uh… my loading time is kind of long. Mind if I borrow the mic to chat while we wait?"
The junior looked at the screen, blinked, then nodded and handed it over.
Evan took the mic, thanked her, and stepped forward so everyone could see him.
"Hey everyone, I'm Evan Carter, contestant number nine."
He pointed over his shoulder at the pitch-black screen.
"And that's the culprit behind the dark void you're staring at."
The audience laughed.
Evan grinned. "Kidding, kidding. My game has a long load time because of certain technical limitations."
"So, since we're all sitting here, I wanted to tell you the story behind my project."
"Like everyone else, I spent a long time thinking about what kind of game to make."
"In the end, I told myself: I could make something simple, something familiar, something that would get me a safe pass to graduation… but I didn't want to."
"When we start down the path to becoming game designers, we hear all kinds of definitions for what a game should be—educational, uplifting, inspiring, emotionally healthy… whatever. But for me, there's only one real question: Is it fun or not?"
"But for a graduation project—without a budget—I can't exactly build the huge, ambitious games in my head. In that sense, I actually envy contestant number one. Not everyone gets access to a full financial war chest."
At that line, Richard's jaw tightened.He snapped his fingers at one of his people."Go pull his information. Now."
Onstage, Evan kept going.
"And since I couldn't make the game I really wanted, I decided to make something else. Something that lets me build better games."
"The result is what you're about to see."
Just then, the loading screen finally vanished, revealing the game's main menu.
Evan returned to the console, mic in hand.
"This is a first-person shooter. The reason I started with an FPS is simple: you only need to model the character's arms. Not the whole body. Saves tons of time."
Half the audience nodded, chuckling.
Evan finished setting up and entered the game.
"As you can see, the UI is simple, intuitive, easy to understand. Even someone who's never touched an FPS before can figure out what the icons and numbers mean."
On the screen, Evan dodged an alien creature's attack and shot it down.
"In shooters, what matters most? Satisfaction. The dev term is 'immersion and feedback,' sure, but at the end of the day, if the shooting feels good, the game feels good."
"So I didn't build a story or anything like that. Definitely not because I'm lazy and working alone."
More laughter.
He moved the character across the map, demonstrating movement, combat, and layout.
"You'll notice this map is pretty big. But here's the key feature: the terrain is randomly generated. Every time you enter, it's a whole new map. It's basically impossible to see the same layout twice. Discovering the unknown is part of the fun."
"That's most of the gameplay. But I want to leave a bit of suspense."
"Earlier I said I couldn't make the fun game in my head—so I made a game that helps me make better games. Why did I say that?"
He closed the game and returned to the desktop.
"So, here's the question: How big do you think my game actually is?"
Confused looks. Nobody answered.
Evan smiled.
"You won't guess it. So I'll tell you. The whole game is kilobytes, not gigabytes.It's only 64KB."
Gasps rippled across the auditorium.
"Any old storage card could fit it. Not necessarily run it, but store it. And that's the point of my project: a new compression algorithm."
The USB window appeared on the big screen, clearly showing:
Size: 64KB
Silence.
Then—
A loud crash backstage.
Everyone turned as a man in his mid-thirties—balding slightly, wearing a tech badge—ran straight onto the stage.
He practically snatched the mouse out of Evan's hand, opened the file properties himself, and whispered:
"This… this is impossible… this defies logic…"
Moments later, five older men hurried out from backstage. Leading them was Dean Joshua Turner, Evan's department chair. Evan recognized him instantly.
"Hello, Dean," Evan said politely. Then he nodded toward the frantic man still clicking around. "Um… and that is?"
Dean Turner laughed."Evan, is your extreme compression algorithm real? That man is Lucas Tate, Technical Director of Silver Ridge Games, and one of today's judges. We were watching backstage. At first we thought your project was impressive… and then you said your algorithm compressed it to 64KB. Director Tate didn't believe you, so he rushed out here to check. Don't be offended."
Evan shook his head."No offense taken. This is a competition entry. Judges are allowed to examine the code. And code doesn't lie."
Dean Turner's expression turned serious.
"Evan… as your teacher, I strongly advise you to consider withdrawing from this competition. If you withdraw, nobody will get to see your source code, and you could negotiate with major companies for enormous benefits. Much more than what you'll gain today."
Evan shook his head.
"I'm not withdrawing. I'm proud to be graduating from Harborview University. Ending my time here by presenting this algorithm is perfect. It's the best gift I can give my school. Besides—"
He tapped the side of his head.
"As long as I've got a future, this algorithm is nothing. I believe in what I can create next."
Dean Turner fell silent for a long moment.
Finally, he said:
"If your algorithm is valid… and if this game truly is only 64KB… then you are unquestionably this year's Best Graduate."
In the audience, Richard Langford, who had been approaching the judges to chat, froze mid-step.
He stumbled.
And when he looked at Evan, his expression was pure ice.