Game Director from Hell

Chapter 7: Beta Testing

Seorim had a strong competitive spirit.

She'd been that way since she was a child.

Whenever she started something, she never entertained the idea of giving up halfway. Even when things got tough, she detested losing more than anything. She'd stubbornly face challenges and conquer them.

Whether it was studying, playing sports, or finally, even when it came to art.

Seorim faced difficulties each time she began something new, but she was captivated by the thought of "I can do this" and persisted until the end, reaping the rewards of her efforts.

It was possible because of her nature.

"I did it!"

"Good job."The sourc𝗲 of this content nov(𝒆l)bi((n))

She had cleared Dark Space entirely.

Total playtime: 21 hours.

Although the game had a volume of around 14 hours, as a complete beginner to games, she needed time to grasp the mechanics, which accounted for the extra time.

In that moment, Seorim felt a sense of relief and accomplishment.

It had been a bit tiresome, but it wasn't devoid of fun. With every chapter she cleared, there was an exhilarating feeling, and beyond that, there was visual enjoyment as well.

It would be a pretty decent experience, something to reflect on and cherish.

"Well, that's that."

When Seorim huffed proudly, Yeonho nodded in agreement.

"I saw that. Your learning speed is impressive. I was still surprised, though."

"You're picking on me for the same thing twice?"

"You did scream."

"Are you holding that against me? Fine, let's move on to the next task. We need to start working on a proper game."

Her enthusiasm was just right.

Now that she understood how design was applied in games, it was time for the real thing.

I did mention it was about pixel art.

Thankfully, she wasn't completely unfamiliar with that side either.

"Should we start with character sprites?"

She asked, and Yeonho shook his head.

"There's something else we need to do first."

"What?"

"Let's try this this time."

Seorim's expression immediately stiffened.

Because Yeonho had brought out another horror game.

The question popped into my mind involuntarily.

"Why?"

"It's necessary."

"Why don't you do it yourself then?"

"You have to do it."

Click. Yeonho switched on a recording device in his hand.

It was a puzzling action.

Seorim stared at Yeonho in silence.

His nonchalant expression felt almost devilish.

The time it took to collect screams was a total of two weeks.

"That's it! I'm not doing any more!"

Seorim let out an exasperated yell.

On the monitor, the words "game clear" were displayed.

Her eighth game cleared.

Yes, enduring this much was quite an achievement.

I immediately agreed that because I had gotten what I wanted.

"You did well."

Remixing this would likely yield a fairly convincing sound effect.

There were other gains as well.

"I've figured out where the player feels fear. It's quite clear now."

Modifications started becoming apparent, one by one.

There were two points where Seorim felt fear.

One was during the stealth mission that imposed psychological pressure, and the other was during the escape mission pursued by an unstoppable enemy.

Getting startled by sudden appearances (Jump Scares) was a one-time thing.

The more such segments were repeated, the more Seorim felt annoyance rather than fear.

"The horror elements need some adjustments...?"

Reducing the number of jump scares was a good idea.

We couldn't afford to diminish the tension of the action, as that was crucial to maintaining the survival horror genre's atmosphere. It was about finding the right balance necessary for the genre's blend.

"The stealth missions are difficult to digest in this volume, so..."

What would be adopted was the "escape mission."

This involved introducing an enemy that the player couldn't defeat.

Some that immediately came to mind were a butcher with a cleaver, a monk, or a water ghost from school.

The effects that could be obtained from this had already been proven.

This presence would exist in the player's perception even when not present on the map, continuously keeping the tension high and creating a sense of unease.

Furthermore, it could go beyond the confines of the game, manifesting a presence even stronger than the playable character, sometimes leading to meme-like popularity.

"Is that alright?"

The ideas kept flowing.

A clear image immediately popped into my mind.

I envisioned it.

"What if we make the final boss unbeatable in the preceding missions?"

If an impossible adversary persisted as a constant presence, even when not confronting the player directly?

Surely, this would effectively establish a sense of pressure and presence in the player's mind, guaranteed to enhance the tension in the game.

Moreover, the catharsis of defeating the final boss would be doubly rewarding.

I immediately revised the proposal and settled on the implementation method.

With the balancing more or less complete, I was satisfied with the result.

There might still be some need for refinement, but that can be adjusted during the production and testing phases.

I said as I sat down in front of the computer.

"Now, let's start for real."

"What? Are you talking about system design and stuff?"

"It's done. Just now. From now on, it's actual production."

Seorim shrugged her shoulders.

"Well... okay. What do I need to do?"

"First, you need to create image resources. Pixel art. Let's start with the playable character."

Seorim nodded roughly and opened the program.

I had prepared the necessary game engine and programs.

There was nothing more to postpone.

Since I had already taught Seorim the basics, she should be able to handle things on her own.

I just needed to offer advice on the necessary parts.

The problem was me.

"I can't create this game using just the engine's basic tools."

The engine's basic tools were limited to follow the mechanics of the planned game.

To add features up to a satisfying level, and to optimize them to boost performance, programming was necessary.

In other words, new code needed to be written.

"Luckily, it's not impossible."

My coding knowledge was 20 years ahead of the current time.

Of course, that didn't mean it would be easy, but it also didn't mean it would be challenging to the point of impossibility.

The real challenge lay elsewhere.

The coding process itself.

From now on, it would be a series of mentally taxing tasks.

It was different from simple manual labour.

Especially since you couldn't afford to lose focus for even a moment while working with black and white things.

In case a bug popped up...

"Um..."

I didn't want to think about it.

So, before starting, I prayed.

"Bugs, please, don't show up."

One undeniable truth.

Faith was the most important thing in coding.

***

Time passed quickly, and before they knew it, winter arrived.

A week before Christmas, as academia quieted down in anticipation of Jesus' birth, Seorim sat in the club room, rubbing her hands over the heater, and asked:

"Is this the finished product?"

"Technically, it's a prototype. There are still likely to be issues. We need to base our proper development on this."

"But at least the game's shape is there, right?"

Seorim's face was filled with curiosity.

It was an emotion that I could empathize with.

Whether someone was starting development for the first time or was an experienced developer in their prime, feeling excitement at this moment was quite common.

After all, it was the moment of first encountering the physical form of a game I had crafted with my own hands. How could it not be exciting?

I willingly handed the honour over to Seorim.

"Give it a try."

"Why aren't you doing it, senior?"

"You can see some things when observing from the side. Also, it's the first run, wouldn't doing it yourself be more moving?"

Superficially, that was the reason.

"Okay. Then I'll give it a shot."

Seorim readily accepted.

With the game running on a PC, her hands hovered over the keyboard and mouse.

Her face was full of anticipation.

And then, the moment the intro appeared arrived.

[Scream!]

An intro scream echoed.

Seorim's voice was hushed.

"Senior..."

"Yeah."

"What's this?"

"It's a scream sound."

"Feels familiar, huh?"

"Yeah, because it's yours."

"Wanna die?"

"For completion."

"Huh?"

"...For the sake of completion."

Seorim's hands were trembling slightly.

But thankfully, it seemed like she brushed past it.

"Um... We can talk about that later."

Yeah, for now, she would probably be more interested in the game. She had timed her response well.

Seorim's previously shaky hands now firmly gripped the keyboard and mouse, her face fixated on the monitor.

Before she knew it, a smile even graced her lips.

It was clear that her emotions were intensifying as she delved into the gameplay.

But I knew.

"You won't be able to maintain this excitement for long."

This was a moment of seeing the core of the game.

In other words, facing the raw and rudimentary state of the game.

Because I was the one who created the game, the one who designed it, I could see the issues coming.

"...Huh?"

Seorim's reaction wasn't any different.

After a significant amount of the keyboard's clicking sounds reverberated, Seorim turned off the game.

Silence filled the room.

I asked, "How is it?"

Seorim didn't immediately respond.

Her face was filled with contemplation.

For a while, she tapped her cheek with her index finger, then finally spoke after a pause.

"...It's overly flashy, which doesn't really suit it."

She was referring to the UI and map design she had created herself.

That's right.

Seorim's design was overpowering the game.

Not in the sense of being excessively outstanding, but her description of "overly flashy" design was undermining the intuitiveness of the game.

The reason was clear.

The games Seorim had been exposed to were of a much higher calibre.

Right now, Seorim's perspective was aligned with that level, and thus her perception of "game design" was skewed towards AAA quality.

The excessive flashiness that didn't fit indie games was causing a sense of incongruity.

Furthermore, Seorim had worked on UI, map design, and character design separately. She couldn't see the overall picture at once, and I hadn't allowed her to do so.

It was a preventive measure.

I needed to instill the concept of "design that suits the game's scope" into Seorim's mind before she made a major mistake.

"Do you understand what the issue is?"

"When you put it all together like this, it lacks intuitiveness. The focus isn't on the characters, it's hard to distinguish what's in the map, and the UI is the same. With elements in the border, it's difficult to concentrate on the actual content."

"You got it right."

"Did you do this on purpose? To blind me with all this?"

"Yes."

"You're wicked."

With those words, Seorim's previously cold expression turned into one of indignation.

It was a positive development. In fact, it exceeded expectations.

To be able to assess her own work to this extent and objectify it was a sign of high understanding.

She truly was worthy of being called the "mother" of [Lost Kingdom].

"Can you fix it?"

"Yes, I'll work on completing it in the next round of revisions."

"Alright, I've roughly checked for any major bugs, so I'll focus on that."

Seorim nodded, her irritation seemingly subsiding.

"Rebalance it too. Why is a sword stronger than a chainsaw?"

"That's the vibe."

"You're kidding."

Seorim laughed sarcastically, then walked straight to my computer.

She opened the program.

With an annoyed gesture, she resumed her work.

At this rate, the next iteration will be much better than the current one.

That way, I can fully entrust it to her and focus on my own tasks.

"The biggest bug is the AI for the Undying Boss."

It had a few patterns that could hardly be called AI, but there were moments when they got tangled up.

There were minor bugs in enemy placements and item looting, and more importantly, the interaction between the playable character and the map wasn't satisfying.

I checked the calendar.

It was December 19th.

With the progress so far, it was time to set a deadline.

Considering practical matters, that was the way to go.

"It needs to be done by winter."

At the very least, I needed to create a satisfactory product before returning to school.

Because time would be tight once I resumed my studies.

I won't go into the tiresome details of the development process.

To cut to the chase, the game was completed to the extent that external testing was possible.

Overall, it wasn't bad.

On today's date, January 22nd, the testing version was completed.

The game had successfully implemented all the elements I had initially conceived.

I fixed all the bugs that could be identified, and I had properly addressed potential balance issues with the weapons.

The game would provide players with weapons that would quench their thirst just enough for each chapter. It would sustain intense battles against enemies.

Except for one case.

"The final boss. That's the problem."

I looked at the monstrous creature on the monitor.

The Cancer Giant.

This boss monster tormented players throughout the game and appeared as an enemy in the final moments of the game.

Until players entered the final boss room, they couldn't defeat it with any weapon.

With 1,000 times the health and a certain-death mechanic when hit, it was an imposing challenge.

The intention was clear.

"Before entering the boss room, don't fight this guy. Just run away."

But has there ever been a time in human history when everyone lived orderly lives?

Dissidents existed in every era, and that reality didn't change much even within the realm of the internet.

Dissidents would argue, "Don't like it? Are you saying we shouldn't defeat this thing? Are we supposed to kill it barehanded at Level 1?"

As unbelievable as it might sound, it was true.

In the gaming industry, there were players who enjoyed the game in a hardcore manner that wasn't required.

In any game, and especially in action genres, such players always made their presence felt.

With just a pair of underwear and a basic weapon.

All they needed for their challenge were those two things.

"The Canzer Giant will be perfect prey. After all, hitting it even once will chip away at its health. And that will show on the health bar."

The focus would clearly be on the fact that you could somehow defeat it.

Of course, it was all out of good curiosity.

As a developer, it was important to lay the groundwork and enable players to feel that curiosity and fulfill it.

Assuming I could solve just one problem, I'd gladly welcome those players.

"Every challenge in the game needs to have a corresponding reward."

It was a well-known saying in the industry, and it was the problem.

That is, providing users with items worth the effort is challenging.

The reward had to be something special.

After all, if gamers were willing to search for and clear an Easter egg, that meant they were users who enjoyed the game that much. How could I possibly lose a potential fan base like that?

But I couldn't create an item that would compromise the balance.

In a game where changes in the player's abilities only occurred through weapons, it wasn't feasible to create an item that would upset the balance.

Considering the essence of the game, weapons that would disrupt balance were likely to give a sense of loss to users who couldn't clear the Easter egg.

Moreover, there were other issues.

"I can't find something suitable."

I had already extended the balance of all weapons to the realm of interaction, even weapon combinations, i.e., combos. Inserting an unfamiliar item at this stage would be a clear overreach.

I pondered for a while.

What kind of weapon would be suitable?

What weapon could coexist with the game without disturbing its balance?

After thinking, I finally came up with an alternative.

"There's no other choice."

I had to do "that."

"Seorim."

"Yes."

"Let's create one more weapon."

"...What?"

"Well, we need a weapon that only this guy drops. There's something bothering me."

"He's the final boss, isn't he? Is it necessary to create something like that since it ends the game?"

"It's for players who want to defeat him before the boss battle even begins. An Easter egg." [TL Note: yes my friends….I am getting the soul games vibes here ha ha ha]

I explained the concept of the weapon to Seorim.

A skeptical expression crossed her face.

"But is that alright?"

"It's an Easter egg. It's bound to be discovered as late as possible. Well, it might not be discovered at all, to begin with."

And it was true.

Even if I released the game right away, I couldn't guarantee an immediately shocking success.

In the first place, this was a foundational game created from a fraction of the ideas conceived when I first faced Hell.

The anticipated peak of this game's popularity would come when my career was re-evaluated after I created a game with more substantial funding.

People interested in Easter eggs would emerge later, so there was no need to worry about it immediately.

"I don't know. Me neither."

I had to accept that even if I worked hard, I couldn't control every aspect of the game.

In any case, the game was now fully completed, including the insertion of the Easter egg.

Only the assessment under the name of testing remained.