Video Game Tycoon in Tokyo-Chapter 1032: Can Be Unused, But Cannot Be Absent

Takayuki found that unless someone had experienced a game with tens of millions of lines of dialogue, it was hard for them to even imagine it.

Most couldn't understand why a game would need that much dialogue. Would any player really listen to all of it?

Honestly, even Takayuki himself had never seen a game like that.

In most games, tens of thousands of lines were already considered top-tier. In the original world, Bethesda's Fallout 4 had around 110,000 lines of dialogue when extracted from its codebase.

That was already an insane amount.

A game with millions of lines? Honestly, if it weren't for Takayuki's vision, the long development cycle, and his generous funding, no voice actor would agree to such an insane workload.

Yet somehow, over the years, they pulled through. And after finishing the work, the sense of accomplishment was beyond words.

But did a game really need tens of millions of lines?

Takayuki wasn't sure himself.

...

Still, one word came to mind:

"Worldbuilding."

Sure, no one would be bored enough to listen to all the dialogue.

But if a computer can handle it, and players accept the file size, then adding all that content could invisibly boost immersion.

It would feel more like stepping into a living, breathing world.

Imagine walking through a modern in-game city. No matter how many times you pass the same street, you'd hear different conversations from different NPCs every time. That kind of immersion is powerful.

Of course, there's another approach: letting AI generate all the dialogue on the fly, with no manual review or filtering. But this comes with its own risks—AI can be hard to control.

So, having scripted dialogue is still safer.

Takayuki recalled an experiment inspired by something from the original world: adding AI into a The Sims-like game.

He gave them a handful of basic rules and let the AIs loose in a community.

Within a few in-game months, the results exceeded expectations.

The AIs learned to cheat, get abortions, fight, brawl... basically, the whole place turned chaotic.

What was supposed to be a thriving community quickly spun out of control.

So at least for now, AI still needed limits.

Takayuki was relieved that the AI in Assassin's Creed and GTA: Liberty City Stories still had hard limits. Their source code was designed to reset the AI once it crossed a certain threshold.

This reset wasn't obvious and helped reduce the burden on devices lacking dedicated AI chips.

You couldn't just fry a player's console or PC because your game overloaded it with calculations.

In the future, games with massive dialogue libraries wouldn't just serve the main or side quests—they'd serve a greater purpose: worldbuilding.

Yusei Entertainment showcased eight playable character paths this time.

Many had nothing to do with combat or the main plot.

For instance, the "corporate drone" path. If things went smoothly, the protagonist could spend the entire game working at the Arasaka Corporation.

Of course, even as an office worker, they would eventually run into key story figures—but the route and outcomes would vary drastically.

This path focused more on intrigue, dialogue choices, and random events like dice rolls.

And depending on which player played, the experience would feel entirely different.

That's what Takayuki wanted—he wanted everyone to find their own way to play.

Finishing the game wasn't the point.

Eventually, the presentation had to end. Takayuki's walkthrough of all eight roles took far longer than expected, even with some parts condensed.

Finally, he turned to the crowd and said sincerely:

"Cyberpunk 2077 is a game that holds very special meaning to me. It's the first time I've put so much heart and soul into something, the first time I've poured everything into building a world with so many others. As a gamer myself, I truly hope that everyone who plays it will find their own joy within it."

Applause broke out. Cheers and whistles echoed. Players loved Takayuki to the extreme.

To them, no actor or model could compare.

(Okay, in-game characters don't count. Tifa was still hotter... Cloud was cuter... and Mario was funnier...)

But in the real world? Their favorite was Takayuki.

He had just given them an unforgettable audiovisual experience.

Those eight identity demos were like eight different movies—each unique and appealing, capturing a wide range of player tastes.

Then, Cyberpunk 2077's playable demo and media review access opened up.

Everyone would get to try the "Street Kid" role.

This one had the most combat and intense visuals, perfect for a demo.

The Trauma Team mission from earlier was one of the special quests tied to that path. But not every Trauma Team job was that crazy—most weren't full-blown firefights. After all, messing with Trauma Team was dangerous. Anyone who did rarely lived to tell the tale.

Otherwise, no employee would throw themselves into the fire for a paycheck alone. Yes, the pay was high—but so was the backup.