"This game is called Moles World. Players will take on the role of a cute mole, living in a carefree and joyful kingdom filled with warmth and imagination."
Ethan Reed stood confidently on the stage, smiling as the large screen behind him displayed colorful scenes of cheerful underground villages and bright cartoon landscapes.
After nearly half a year of development, Northstar Games' third division, led by Jason Cole, had finally completed two titles: Moles World and Sailor Moon Online. Following Ethan's instructions, both projects were built as client-based games instead of lightweight browser titles. Each installation package was roughly 4GB — small by AAA standards, but massive for children's games.
There was a reason for that decision.
Ethan had studied past industry failures closely. He understood what happened when companies chased short-term profits at the cost of long-term vision. Children's games had enormous user bases, but monetization was delicate. If handled poorly, the backlash could destroy even the strongest brand.
Instead of squeezing children through endless microtransactions, Ethan focused on a single membership model. Stable. Clean. Sustainable.
More importantly, he had a bigger plan.
The real value wasn't just inside the game.
It was outside.
Stationery. Toys. Backpacks. Pencil cases. School supplies.
Schools were ecosystems of comparison. Once uniforms removed fashion competition, accessories became status symbols. If a child carried a mole-themed backpack that everyone loved, others would want one too.
Ethan didn't believe children would refuse a cute mole printed on their pencil case.
Unless it had a Pikachu on it.
A few adult developers in the audience exchanged skeptical looks. The art style clearly targeted children. From a business perspective, the children's market was huge — but revenue per user was low.
From a gamer's perspective?
It wasn't their thing.
"The gameplay is simple," Ethan continued calmly. "It's a light role-playing online experience focused on exploration and friendship."
Jason Cole sat below the stage, palms sweating. This was his project. His team's work. Seeing Ethan present it made him proud — but also anxious.
Ethan noticed the lukewarm reaction and didn't drag it out.
This wasn't the main event.
"And now," he said, pressing the remote, "allow me to introduce the second title."
The lights dimmed.
A dark universe appeared on screen. A tiny spaceship drifted across a sea of stars.
The audience immediately straightened.
Space theme?
Interest spiked.
The camera zoomed inside the ship. A helmet in the corner suddenly revealed a pair of large, shining eyes. It stood up — transforming into a humanoid alien creature.
"This," Ethan said, "is Sailor Moon Online. You may think of it as inspired by creature-collection games — but I assure you, it's not a rehash. It includes deeper social systems, expanded interaction mechanics, and cooperative gameplay features designed for long-term engagement."
Unlike single-player experiences, this one focused heavily on social connectivity. Guild systems. Friend hubs. Event worlds.
It was built for community.
Both games would launch in April. Both would follow a clean membership model.
Ethan wasn't expecting massive profits from them.
That wasn't the point.
These two projects secured the children's market and built intellectual property. And intellectual property, if managed correctly, could grow into something much larger.
Northstar Games was no longer a small studio chasing survival.
It was building an empire.
After finishing the introduction, Ethan casually sat at the edge of the stage.
"So those are the first announcements," he said. "But now, we arrive at the real reason you're all here."
The crowd leaned forward.
Here it comes.
The screen shifted to warm tones. Soft music played. Cute Q-style characters appeared on a glowing heart.
"This game," Ethan said, "is our interactive narrative project for this year. Its name is Pick Love."
He explained the philosophy behind it.
Interactive narrative games allowed players to experience stories from a first-person emotional perspective. The team had prepared three separate love stories.
Then he laughed lightly.
"I'm single, so our research involved a lot of studying."
The room chuckled.
But Ethan had made important changes.
He believed love should be equal.
In the original concept, the male protagonist constantly gave — time, energy, emotion — while the female character simply responded. That dynamic felt unhealthy.
So Ethan redesigned it.
He added female perspectives. Emotional feedback systems. Balanced choices.
Love shouldn't feel like one-sided sacrifice.
Players wouldn't choose the right answer just to clear the game.
They would choose it because they genuinely wanted the other character to be happy.
That was the difference.
A healthy relationship gives strength.
It doesn't drain it.
The applause was stronger this time.
And then—
Ethan stood up.
"The next announcement," he said loudly, "is Pokémon — Part Two."
The room exploded in applause.
Nearly everyone present had played the first installment.
New regions.
More creatures.
Expanded storylines.
Greater world-building.
Pokémon Part Two was officially confirmed.
Cheers filled the venue.
Ethan raised his hands to calm them before continuing.
"And finally… Northstar Games has made farming games, strategy games, sandbox titles, card systems — but there is one major genre we haven't touched."
He paused.
"Horror."
The lights dimmed slightly.
"Our third major title this year is a horror game called Fireworks."
He didn't reveal gameplay details.
But he said one thing clearly:
"Everyone inside Northstar Games — including Vivian Frost and myself — has extremely high expectations for this project."
"This game will change your understanding of horror."
The applause returned, even louder.
Ethan then summarized updates for existing games. Expansions. New modes. Content updates.
By the time he finished, he had been on stage for nearly ninety minutes.
No one felt bored.
Five games in one year.
Northstar Games was back at full production strength.
The Q&A session began.
Questions flew from every direction.
Ethan answered calmly.
Then a foreign journalist stood up.
"Hello," the man said in fluent English-accented Chinese. "I'm from the United States. Overseas audiences love Edgerunners. When will Part Two be released?"
The room burst into laughter.
Shouts followed.
"What happened to Lucy?!"
"Is she coming back to Night City?!"
Even the livestream chat exploded.
Ethan smiled.
"I'm sorry," he said clearly. "Edgerunners was designed as a complete story from the beginning. There will be no Part Two."
A wave of disappointment swept across the audience.
They knew Night City had only been partially explored.
It could have been extended into a long series.
But Ethan wasn't finished.
He paused.
Then his tone changed.
"However…"
The crowd went silent.
"While we don't have an animation," he continued slowly, "we do have a game."
He pressed the remote.
Electronic music thundered through the venue.
A voice shouted from the speakers:
"V, can you shoot?!"
Another voice snapped back:
"Shut up, Jackie — I know what I'm doing!"
The screen behind Ethan erupted into cinematic footage.
Neon lights.
Gunfire.
Hovercars.
Skyscrapers piercing polluted skies.
The graphics were breathtaking.
AAA-level.
Unmistakably next-generation.
Ethan slowly opened his arms and declared:
"Ladies and gentlemen — this is Northstar Games' secret project."
"Cyberpunk 2077."
The white journalist stared in shock.
This wasn't a simple game trailer.
This was industry-defining.
Ethan looked into the camera and smiled.
"Do you want it?"
The entire venue shook with cheers.
Northstar Games didn't have an anime sequel.
But it had something far bigger.
It had a future.
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Extra chapters available on patreon ❤️🔥
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