Ethan Reed had absolute confidence in Stardew Valley.
In fact, his confidence in this new project was even higher than it had been for Neon Blade: Echoes of Lumen.
Why?
Because this game was a true phenomenon.
Selling over twelve million copies was not just success—it was history.
Very few people outside the industry truly understood what that number meant. And even fewer people knew the story behind it.
One Man, Four Years, and a Farming Miracle
What most people would find unbelievable was this:
Stardew Valley—one of the top farming games ever created—was originally made by a single developer.
One person.
Four years.
Working in isolation.
That developer polished the game bit by bit, delaying its release again and again. Every time the game was "almost ready," he would pull it back for further refinement. He was the kind of perfectionist who could not tolerate even the smallest flaw.
Now that Ethan himself was a game developer, he understood that mindset completely.
Just like students who keep pursuing higher degrees because they're afraid of entering the job market, that lone developer wasn't just chasing perfection—he was afraid.
Afraid that the game, once released, wouldn't live up to the expectations he had built over years of solitude.
Afraid that the world he created would be ignored.
In the end, game development itself became emotional support. Without external pressure from a publisher, the project might have been delayed forever.
Simple to Make, Impossible to Replace
As Vivian Frost had once said, Stardew Valley wasn't difficult to make.
For Northstar Games, a studio that had already completed projects like Neon Blade and Animal Party, the graphics and mechanics were technically simple.
But the gameplay?
That was something else entirely.
Stardew Valley is art.
Anyone who can sit down and play for two hours will likely lose dozens—if not hundreds—of hours to it afterward.
Slowly. Comfortably.
They sink into a second life.
A second world.
The production is straightforward.
The mechanics are gentle.
The engagement is overwhelming.
Out of a thousand players, nine hundred and ninety leave positive reviews.
That alone says everything.
Northstar's Advantage
Of course, the original game had flaws.
Online play existed—but it wasn't stable. Network interruptions were frequent.
But with Northstar Games' infrastructure, that weakness could be fixed.
After all—
One developer is still human.
Northstar Games is not.
Passing the Torch
Ethan handed the complete design proposal to Daniel, who was now leading a team of more than twenty developers.
They were fast.
They were disciplined.
They were precise.
They might not surpass the original creator's obsessive attention to detail—but their overall completion quality would not fall short.
After all, Stardew Valley is a pixel-art game.
When it comes to pixel games, detail lies more in storytelling and atmosphere than in raw graphical complexity.
And more importantly—
This was a game where players built their own world.
Is a scene beautiful or not?
That depends far more on the player than on the developer.
It's Not the Game's Fault
Take building games as an example.
Some players can create dragons or elegant characters out of blocks.
Others can barely build a house.
Is that a problem with the game?
Of course not.
You can't blame gravity if you can't squat properly.
And you certainly can't blame Northstar's art direction if you can't make your town look good.
Thinking about this, Ethan suddenly laughed.
---
Boss vs. Planner
He looked at Vivian Frost, who was standing in front of him, with faint disdain.
"Your sudden laugh is disgusting," Vivian muttered.
Ethan immediately stopped smiling and snorted.
"You think I'm disgusting? Fine. Then don't come hugging me when the new game starts making money."
Vivian snorted back confidently.
"Who wants to hug you? I just got 27 million in copyright fees. Developing a new game doesn't cost much, and once Skybound settles next month, my personal treasury will exceed 40 million!"
She laughed foolishly as she spoke.
Forty million.
Even her old man couldn't casually pull that much liquid capital together.
But she could.
A Sudden Realization
As Vivian enjoyed her expensive coconut chicken—54 yuan per portion, tasting sweeter than ever—she also felt a quiet shock.
How long had Ethan Reed been Northstar's chief planner?
One year.
In just one year, Northstar Games had gone from barely scraping together a few million to having nearly a hundred million in total assets.
Only then did Vivian truly realize something:
That afternoon—when she gave up and handed over the remaining funds after the original team collapsed—
was the best decision of her life.
---
Changing the Topic Immediately
"Boss, what are you thinking about?" Ethan asked.
Vivian snapped back instantly.
"I was thinking—when can I play the Stardew Valley demo?"
She refused to praise Ethan.
When others praised him, he just smiled calmly.
But when she praised him?
He immediately made that infuriating smug face.
Absolutely shameless.
A Timeline Is Set
"Soon," Ethan replied, setting down his soup bowl.
"At most two or three months. Around mid-May, you'll get the first demo."
That was more than enough time.
Northstar was no longer a tiny studio. Even with many new employees, veteran leaders kept development running at terrifying speed.
Ethan had already handed a complete blueprint to Daniel.
Ethan himself was handling character dialogue and community storylines.
At this pace, full completion within three months was guaranteed.
---
Marketing Begins Before the Harvest
After a brief pause, Ethan added,
"We should post an announcement on the Official Blog tonight. And this time, let's spend some money on promotion."
No matter how good a product is, early data matters.
Good first-day numbers create momentum.
People follow crowds.
If they click, they buy.
Simple as that.
Vivian sighed helplessly.
"The game's been in development for two days, and you're already thinking about marketing?"
"But you're right," she admitted. "Let's announce it."
---
The Plan
Post an official update announcing development
Contact content creators focused on farming, sandbox, or survival games
Invite them to test the demo and promote it
Advertising costs?
That depended on follower count.
"Tiered pricing," Ethan said. "One thousand, two thousand, five thousand. No need to go crazy—most creators in this genre don't even have a million followers. Keep it under 20,000 per person."
Vivian nodded and flashed an OK sign.
"Approved."
Northstar Speaks Again
That night, after a short silence, Northstar Games' Official Blog came alive:
> Northstar Games:
"Good evening everyone~ It's been half a month since we last met. Have you missed us? Or are you still busy playing Neon Blade: Echoes of Lumen or Animal Party?
We've got great news—our new game is officially in development!
A sandbox game with high freedom, beautiful visuals, and the ability to build your own town.
More information will be released on Skybound in two weeks."
Ever since players learned that the account was run by Vivian Frost herself, she had completely abandoned the old cute nickname people used for her.
It was fine when no one knew.
Now?
Way too embarrassing.
---
The Internet Loses Its Mind (Again)
The replies flooded in instantly.
"Just arrived—and Northstar's already making another game?"
"Didn't Neon Blade just come out?!"
"I don't even get diarrhea that fast!"
"My sows don't give birth this quickly either!"
"Northstar releases hit games like clockwork. Honestly—can anyone deny they're the future of domestic games?"
"Industrial-level sow!"
Because of its incomprehensible production speed, Northstar Games earned a brand-new nickname:
[Sow Northstar Games]
----------------------------------------
Extra chapters available on patreon
patreon.com/Samurai492 🔥🔥🔥
__________________________________