In the mid-1980s, a video game emerged in Japan.
It boasted a 4-dimensional story about a mustachioed plumber’s adventure to rescue Princess Apple of the Mushroom Kingdom, and upon its release, it became a legendary entry in the history of video games.
Children like me manipulated that plumber, jumping to smash blocks, collect gold and mushrooms, squashing turtles, only to be squashed by the very turtle shells we sent flying, immersing ourselves in unforgettable adventures in that world.
This is the living legend of video games, with 40 million copies sold worldwide, a total series sales of 300 million, and achieving 9th place in global media revenue (about $30 billion), the legendary action platformer game, [Super Mario].
The reason I find [Super Mario] so fun is that it holds our childlike spirit.
We embarked on imagined adventures as kids. Some explored the back hills, others the old apartment buildings, and some even ventured through their homes, envisioning grand dangers, turning themselves into heroes in those small adventures.
[Super Mario] encapsulated those small adventures in a world where you could act on whims and curiosity—thinking, “I can step on that guy…” and then you absolutely did, or “I might be able to crawl into that pipe…” and you totally did.
In that game, we didn’t have to care about flair or social status. All we needed to do was return to our childlike wonder and enjoy the world.
That’s why I believe a mustachioed plumber suited being the protagonist rather than a handsome hero.
What if it were a dashing warrior instead of the plumber? While it may have been just as fun, it wouldn’t have felt quite the same.
A hero would certainly feel the need to wield a legendary sword, which would lead to the addition of elements one by one, ultimately erasing our childlike spirit.
Because he was just an average mustachioed dude, we could freely enjoy that world.
My first playthrough of Super Mario gave me immense joy and shock.
With no money, my friends from the orphanage and I could escape into the Mushroom Kingdom, persisting through hard childhoods.
If someone asked me to choose only one game to gift to otherworldly beings right now, I wouldn’t hesitate to choose this game.
And I’m sure that not just me, but other game developers and users would make the same choice.
“…I’m going to make a game like that! What do you think?”
Recalling Super Mario, I fervently conveyed the joy I felt from the game to Sylvia and everyone.
I might have gotten a bit too excited, but I couldn’t help it.
How could they possibly ask me to stay calm when I might actually create the game? That was too harsh a condition for me.
As my passionate declaration about Super Mario came to an end, a silence fell in the office.
“……………”
“……………”
Those gazes… I felt them in my previous life.
It was the same look I got when sharing my game philosophy with the general public, thinking, “What the heck is this otaku talking about?”
Sylvia seemed to hold her head as if feeling a headache and replied.
“So, are you saying the game with that ‘Yahhoo!’ hopping guy is the best game ever?”
“Yes, precisely!”
“……………”
Once again, a cold silence enveloped us.
It was so cold that I would have preferred the heated debates we had just moments earlier.
“Um… Sylvia?”
“This is perplexing. It’s the most perplexing moment I’ve had running a company.”
She genuinely looked bewildered.
Was my explanation lacking?
I turned to my allies for help.
“Hey, don’t you all think this sounds boring?”
My followers behind me wore various awkward expressions.
Noirin innocently laughed, “Well, I definitely saw Yuren having fun! Hahaha.”
Jiren looked genuinely worried. “Honestly… this might be a bit…”
Karen mused, “Couldn’t at least a handsome guy be the protagonist? Yuren, please.”
Anyway, it didn’t go well.
Was there really no support among my allies?
“It’s okay. My disciple, I believe in Yuren.”
Of course! My only ally was my Master.
“No matter how strange the game, I have faith I can enjoy it because it’s made by Yuren!”
My Master’s kindness only pained my heart further.
Maybe the joy of Super Mario couldn’t be conveyed in words… After all, it was something I had faced countless times in my previous life in game development.
And each time, I would do the same thing.
“Alright, let’s do this. I’ll show you a prototype within a month.”
Prototype—basically the game’s sample development.
“Will it really take a whole month?”
“It’ll only take a month.”
I mentioned that the actual development period for Super Mario was about 3 to 4 months.
Since I knew that game inside and out, I could probably create it much quicker, but no matter what, a month was short for testing and finalizing new spells.
While this wasn’t another game, I had similar experiences in different magic schools, so Sylvia seemed to understand.
“Alright, then show us that new game magic in a month. But this time, Yuren, you need to come to the capital.”
I had come for a significant purpose, but now I was the one calling the shots—just like those simple rank clarifications I experienced in my previous life as a publisher.
This was a breeze.
“Understood. I shall come.”
Sylvia and I exchanged glances.
Hers said, “If you bring something weird, it’s getting burned,” and mine said, “I assure you, that won’t happen.”
Seeing the atmosphere settle, butler Thomas spoke up for the first time.
“Well, it seems things are settled, so let’s proceed with the contract.”
“Yes, please, Thomas.”
He infused the contract with magic, starting to add revised terms.
Words began to line up, filling out the new contract.
The otherworld’s contracts never ceased to baffle me.
“Starting from midnight today, the Tetric Crystal Balls will be produced and distributed by our Edward Consortium. The period will last as long as both Edward Consortium and Irene School agree, with 70% of the profit going to us, 20% to Irene School, and the remaining 10% will go to Irene School upon fulfilling contract conditions. Any objections, Sage Irene?”
“No objections, Thomas.”
With Master’s signature as the representative of the Irene School, Sylvia’s already signed name began to shine.
As the documents split into two, one came to us and the other to Sylvia.
“With this, we declare that the contract between Edward Consortium and Irene School has been established.”
With his quiet declaration, our contract with the Edward Consortium had come to fruition.
The die had been cast.
*
After the contract was finished, Sylvia immediately mentioned returning to the capital.
Since she was in charge, we escorted her to the carriage.
“I’ll see you in a month. Yuren, I look forward to seeing the best game.”
“Don’t worry. Maybe you should worry more about the production volume of Edward’s crystal balls.”
Even I couldn’t guarantee whether the game would sell millions in this world.
Still, I felt a strong confidence that it could sell at least hundreds of thousands.
Hmm… Surely, it would bring joy to millions.
At my words, Sylvia wore a half-amused, yet satisfied smile.
“You really are cocky till the end. But I kind of like that cockiness…”
She picked up a small black crystal ball from her pocket.
If it’s a black crystal ball, it must be a premium item made from the blood of a black flame dragon—what could this be?
“This is my and Thomas’s direct communication crystal ball, so make sure to contact us here in a month.”
Using such upscale items for communication crystals? Truly, the wealthy are different.
I was suddenly reminded of a Chinese gaming company executive I knew who used an ashtray made of gold in my previous life.
“Let’s head back now, Thomas.”
“Yes, Miss.”
As the carriage doors closed, she departed for the capital.
I thought back on what had happened after she left.
She was like a storm.
A storm of enormous crisis and opportunities.
This time, I hadn’t been prepared and got swept right into it.
But that’s alright.
Thanks to that, I’ve regained a dream I had forgotten.
However, living passively isn’t my style.
Next time, I’ll be the storm.
Along with this legendary game.
Yahhoo!
