Video Game Tycoon in Tokyo-Chapter 854: Vast Ambition

"Everyone, thank you for waiting. Sorry I'm late today."

Finally, Takayuki appeared at the office in the afternoon—carrying a large box full of documents.

"President, this is...?"

"Call in the GTA team, and the core members of Development Teams 1, 3, 4, and 9. I have an important task for them today."

Upon hearing this, the assistant froze for a second.

Usually, gathering that many department leads meant a company-wide year-end wrap-up or strategy meeting.

But it was only the beginning of the year. The year-end summary had already been held in December. So what was this about?

Still, she didn't ask questions and quickly left to gather the relevant team leaders.

Meanwhile, Takayuki headed to a large conference room and began pulling out stacks of prepared documents from his box.

This was the blueprint for his most ambitious game project yet.

He planned to assign more than 5,000 employees to work on it continuously.

As he arranged the files, team leaders began to arrive.

His absence all morning had already raised eyebrows. Now that he had summoned so many team leads all at once, everyone was a bit on edge.

Was Takayuki preparing to launch another wave of top-tier titles?

That would be something to look forward to.

Their previous collaboration had successfully leveraged Gamestar Electronic Entertainment's position to stifle Myron Keis and prevent him from taking over the computer market.

The Switch's launch and multiple blockbuster games had sealed the deal.

Many in the industry kept asking:

"Does Takayuki's creativity never run out?"

Year after year, the founder of modern gaming continued to deliver masterpieces.

Not only that—he was also a brilliant mentor, able to cultivate elite developers from within the company.

"President, are we setting a new goal today? Another conquest?" someone joked.

"New conquest? What conquest?"

"You know... like how we crushed Myckford. They tried to eat into our industry, so we struck back with a thunderclap."

Takayuki chuckled. "There are no permanent enemies in this world. If Myckford is focusing on making games now, they may not even be a rival anymore. As for a new target... not yet."

"Then what is this?"

"...Call it a personal ambition."

He handed a thick stack of documents to Uchiyama, one of the team leads who had walked over.

"Here you go, Uchiyama—this is your role in the new project. You'll be in charge of dungeon and level design. It won't be easy, but I'm counting on you and your team!"

Uchiyama blinked and took the hefty bundle.

"Lead Designer for Dungeons and Levels?"

He paused when he read the title on the cover.

You need a producer-level dev just for dungeons and levels?!

At that moment, Uchiyama had a strong feeling:

Takayuki is planning something huge.

Somewhere deep inside him, he felt that old fire start to burn again.

"Alright, go take a seat. I still need to hand out roles to the rest."

Uchiyama sat down and eagerly opened the pages.

Foll𝑜w current novℯls on ƒrēewebnoѵёl.cσm.

Other team leads soon followed, each glancing at Uchiyama's thick packet with a look of awe.

He was already completely absorbed in reading.

"Welcome back, everyone—and Happy New Year," Takayuki said with a smile once most had arrived.

"President, are we about to get a new assignment?"

Takayuki nodded. "Yes. And it's a big one. This time I'm allocating over 5,000 people to work on it."

Five thousand people...

In the original world, Red Dead Redemption 2 had over 3,000 devs—a number among the largest in the industry.

Even then, the team worked long, grueling hours to achieve something unforgettable.

The result was one of the most finely detailed games ever created.

Set at the end of the Wild West era, Red Dead Redemption 2 told a deeply human story of outlaws clinging to survival as the world changed around them.

But 5,000?

It sounded absurd.

Even with double the budget, trying to make something on par with Red Dead 2 would still be wildly ambitious.

Game industrialization wasn't about cutting staff and expecting miracles. It was about reducing repetitive work while maintaining high standards.

Takayuki had long held a personal regret—a game that didn't live up to its potential.

That game was the last one he played before he crossed into this world:

Cyberpunk 2077.

The hype had been overwhelming. Everyone thought it would be the greatest game of all time.

But in the end, it fell flat.

Was it the story? Not really. Takayuki remembered liking the core narrative.

The real issue?

It felt unfinished.

So many promised features weren't there. The world felt like a half-baked shell of what it was meant to be.

Even after all these years, Cyberpunk 2077 remained a wound in his gamer soul.

He wanted to change that.

He wanted to redeem it.

"Everyone," Takayuki said calmly, "the project I'm assigning you to is titled Cyberpunk 2077.

This will be a long-term production, with an initial investment of $300 million. If needed, we'll raise it to $500 million.

And it will take at least five years to complete.

My goal is to build a game that feels like a living, breathing world."