Video Game Tycoon in Tokyo-Chapter 966: Stop Scolding, Stop Scolding

During the Summer Sale, players gained access to affordable games, and developers and publishers were surprised by unexpected windfall profits—both sides got exactly what they wanted.

Gamestar Electronic Entertainment reaped both reputation and revenue.

Even older titles that had seen stagnant sales saw a major surge thanks to the sale.

In just the first two days, the total revenue from the video game Summer Sale surpassed $1 billion, with a full third of that going directly to Gamestar.

The company that sold the most games? Gamestar itself.

According to their agreement with the Japanese government, all revenue—minus taxes imposed by local foreign governments—would be funneled back to Gamestar. In return, the company simply had to continue creating jobs and enhancing Japan's global cultural presence.

For Gamestar, this was no challenge at all.

Construction on the Gamestar Theme Park was progressing steadily, with live updates being shared worldwide. Countless players eagerly awaited the day the park would open—a true paradise for gamers.

Internally, someone even suggested that Takayuki sell opening day tickets for the park.

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And why not? That day would be historic. Even if tickets were priced at $300 or $400, there would still be plenty of buyers.

Despite the sluggish global economy, gamers' passion remained unshaken.

The Summer Sale proved one thing clearly: people still had spending power—they were just more cautious. But when something truly meaningful appeared, they wouldn't hesitate for a second.

So back to the Summer Sale:

Players profited. Gamestar profited. Developers profited.

So who lost?

No one lost money—but plenty were full of regret.

One mid-sized game developer, after earning $5–6 million on the first day, proudly began boasting about their "brilliant foresight" in joining the Summer Sale.

They claimed that joining was a strategic, forward-thinking decision.

In reality, most of them only joined because they were afraid of being sidelined by Gamestar. After some fruitless resistance, they caved and signed on.

Now that they'd made money, they conveniently forgot all their initial hesitation.

Watching these developers rake in cash on day one, other companies who had declined to join began to feel deep regret.

They regretted missing the opportunity to profit.

Worse still, they lost face. free𝑤ebnovel.com

The idea had been to maintain their pricing as a show of "class" and "confidence"—a signal that their games were worth full price.

But were their games really better than Gamestar's?

When even Gamestar's own first-party titles were on sale, what made them think they were above it?

The gaming community didn't hold back.

Players, after happily buying heaps of discounted games, circled back and noticed these full-priced outliers—and left sarcastic comments on social media and official accounts, mocking them for missing the party.

Long-time fans expressed disappointment, politely suggesting these devs consider participating in the next sale.

Less patient players simply lashed out in the comments.

These companies were caught in an awkward no-man's-land—neither heroes nor villains, just foolish.

To be fair, they didn't do nothing afterward.

Watching others reap profits and goodwill, they got jealous too.

So, swallowing their pride, they quietly contacted Gamestar, asking for access to the discount tools.

Gamestar's response was simple:

They didn't need to ask permission. The ability to launch sales was already built into Gamestar's developer backend.

In fact, developers could even give their games away for free if they wanted—Gamestar wouldn't interfere.

But compared to those who had joined the official Summer Sale, the benefits were clearly inferior.

First, their self-initiated sales wouldn't appear on the main Summer Sale homepage.

Right now, every inch of Gamestar's store was dedicated to the official Summer Sale.

If you weren't part of that, your games were buried—no front-page exposure, no marketing push. Only your most dedicated fans might discover your sale.

Second, these latecomers wouldn't get Gamestar's revenue share waiver.

For the Summer Sale, Gamestar had let participating devs keep nearly 100% of the earnings, taking only a negligible service fee.

But these developers had to fork over 30%, plus service fees.

It stung.

But that was the price of saying "no" at the start.

Takayuki never pressured anyone to participate. Even if every publisher said no, he didn't care—Gamestar's own games were enough to carry the event.

And now that the profits were visible, they wanted in?

Too late.

Gamestar wasn't going to take responsibility for their poor choices.

They'd have another chance at the next sale—but next time, everyone would be treated equally, and all would pay standard revenue shares.

If they were using Unreal Engine, they'd owe royalties for that too.

No discounts. No exceptions.

And that, too, left many publishers frustrated.

Even if they didn't like it, they had no choice but to accept it.

By day five or six of the sale, several of these previously unwilling game companies began launching their own discounts.

Some even paid for extra marketing, shouting to anyone who'd listen:

"Hey! We're discounting too now! Even if you don't buy our games... please stop flaming us..."