Atari Shock
It was a catastrophe that struck the North American video game industry from 1983 to 1985.
How bad was it? In 1982, the market size soared to $3 billion, but by 1985, it plummeted to a mere $1 million, just 3% of its former glory.
That’s a staggering 97% drop, leaving the market not just shattered, but evaporated!
The background of the Atari Shock was, in many ways, painfully obvious.
Atari, which kicked off the success with Pong, initially released a number of iconic games.
But as profits started rolling in, a multitude of competitors emerged, and in a hurry to outpace them, Atari began cranking out a slew of games haphazardly.
And yet, people were buying the games.
The brand new experience video games offered was enough to satisfy gamers even if the quality took a nosedive.
By early 1981, rumors began to spread.
“They’ll sell a million copies of even a garbage game!”
Atari’s arrogance, along with that of the game industry, reached a frenzy, and the focus shifted from game quality to merely sensational depictions.
From games where you chase women and drag them home to games depicting cowboys capturing naked Native American women, the absurdity skyrocketed, destroying the public’s perception of gaming in the eyes of parents and society.
And then, the fateful day arrived.
A secret weapon of a game called “Alien,” timed for the year-end Christmas rush, bombed spectacularly, causing the game market to collapse.
The final consideration of users, sparked by the popular “Alien” movie, turned into rage, driving the gaming economy and society into the depths of despair.
Of 4 million games already produced, only 2.5 million were sold, and the rest ended up being dumped in the desert or sold as bundles at rock-bottom prices.
Users who bought games at discounted rates got used to the low prices and stopped purchasing games that came out at higher prices, leading to a downward spiral where Atari had no choice but to lower their prices as well.
This vicious cycle cost Atari a staggering $1 billion over a year and a half, leading to the closure of countless companies.
At that time, there were over 130 game companies in North America, but only six survived into the 2000s.
That was the Atari Shock, the Ragnarok of the gaming industry.
And a very similar event occurred in another world…
—
The backlash from gamers due to the unplayable bug in Unreal Fighter Plus wasn’t something to be taken lightly.
Muscular, action-packed gamers stormed into Gilbert’s branch of the Harmon Game Store, demanding answers.
“Refund this trash game NOW!!”
“A game should at least be playable!!!”
“We’re so, so sorry!!!”
The clerks at Gilbert could do nothing but continuously apologize.
There were just too many gamers demanding refunds.
The Gilbert Consortium, having expanded aggressively using a “We’ll pay you back” strategy, found a large-scale recall to be the last resort.
“No! What the hell is going on!? If you can’t even make a game, at least send us something playable! Are you really sending us this garbage!?”
Burnell quickly contacted the Magus Society to shift the blame.
If he could lay the fault with the Magus Society and recover the profits that were supposed to come his way, perhaps he could patch this issue somehow.
But Dean Einhardt had something to say as well.
“Who pressured the development schedule? It was YOU, Mr. Burnell!!! And wasn’t the final testing supposed to be done on your side!?”
The development of Unreal Fighter Plus needed more time.
However, at Gilbert’s earnest insistence, it was pushed out, resulting in the creation of millions of pieces of trash.
“Anyway, we won’t pay you a penny until this issue is resolved! You can count on that!”
“What do you mean by that, Mr. Burnell!? That’s a breach of contract!!!”
Click!
Burnell hung up abruptly after saying what he needed to say.
“Hmph! Greedy old fossil… maybe this is a blessing in disguise. If we can clean things up during this chance…”
Despite his irritation, Burnell started rationally organizing the situation.
Yes, this could turn out to be a blessing.
Even though they lost earlier than planned, he could use this as an excuse to cut ties with the Magus Society and focus on making money off the games that had already been released while preparing for the next move.
In an emergency, they could just copy games from the Irene School.
The stupid gamers wouldn’t know the difference and would buy it anyway, so that problem would be easily solved.
However…
“Chairman! This is bad!!!”
“What’s wrong NOW!?”
Burnell’s irritation grew with the abrupt announcement from his secretary.
He didn’t even want to hear about anything worse than this.
“The games!!! All of them have started selling poorly!”
“What!? ALL the games are not selling!?”
“Yes!! Speed Rabbit 1, 2, Royal King 1, 2, all our games have seen a sudden drop in sales!”
Burnell’s heart sank.
Games typically sell the best on release day and gradually decline over time.
But if the secretary was this concerned, it clearly indicated a significant drop was underway.
“How bad is it!?”
“Well…9…”
“9%? That is a dip, but it’s not cataclysmic.”
Usually, a 5% decline in sales weekly was expected, so a 9% drop was notable but not a cause for panic.
Burnell let out a sigh of relief.
However…
“What do you mean, 90% drop…”
“What! 90%!!!!!?”
The revelation of a 90% drop in sales left Burnell feeling like the sky was falling in.
At that moment, the hell for Gilbert Consortium had begun.
—
Meanwhile, in the Magus Society’s conference room, dark clouds loomed.
The damage from Blue Shock was coming for them as well.
The contract changes made to increase profit had become problematic.
By asking Gilbert to handle the pre-payment for the production of Crystal Balls to boost the net profit, they suffered hundreds of billions of gold in losses for items they didn’t even need.
Moreover, those Crystal Balls ended up being worthless, filled with bug-riddled game versions.
Even if they attempted to install and sell different games, additional costs were unavoidable.
And the biggest issue was…
“Are you idiots at the Magus Society doing this!? Is this what you call a game!!!?”
“Eat this and be quiet!!!”
Gamers from the Yura Republic were outraged at the Magus Society as well.
Initially thrilled that a game called Speed Rabbit was made in their country, gamers couldn’t forgive the existence of the creators of such trash even if they were from their own nation.
To make matters worse, the hurried setup of a game production system led to penalties for the numerous canceled projects, and the lack of funds from the Zers Empire further tightened the economic screws, making Dean Einhardt feel a crisis unlike any he had ever known.
“Speak up if anyone has something to say about why things have come to this!”
It was the same old story, through and through.
The person finally cornered with responsibility often reverts to the ugliest behavior, namely, finding a scapegoat to avoid blame.
“Smith… Didn’t you say there were no issues in the development?”
“Yes! Dean, there were no problems during our internal testing.”
“Then what the hell is that bug!? Did it drop from the sky all of a sudden!!!!!?”
Magic was extremely delicate.
As such, problems could arise based on the area’s magical flow, leading to failures that required last-minute testing and adjustments.
But the one who forced them to skip those was Dean Einhardt himself.
“Just look at the other games! Is a 90% drop in sales in just one week even remotely logical!?! Everyone speak up! If you talk now, we can find the responsible party!!!”
The game’s sales in the Yura Republic had likewise plummeted by over 90%, mirroring the situation in the Zers Empire.
While everyone sat dumbfounded in the aftermath of this catastrophe, Sora, who had been quietly seated in a corner with white hair and glasses, spoke up.
“You told us to do this…”
Her small voice resonated firmly in the silent conference room and reached Dean Einhardt’s ears.
“What did you just say, Sora?”
Dean Einhardt stared at Sora in disbelief, unsure if he heard correctly.
Sora glared at him, her face pale and strained.
The sight of her white hair framing her now cold expression resembled that of a beautiful yet frigid ghost.
And then, the ghost’s wrath erupted.
“You told us to do this!!!
Why are you now blaming us, you old fool!!!”
Sora’s voice exploded in the quiet conference room like a war bomb.
In the shocking silence that followed, everyone, including Dean Einhardt, was at a loss for words, as Sora’s shouting continued.
“Professor Howard warned you that doing this would lead to disaster!!! And now you’re looking for a scapegoat!?! YOU are the problem, you old fossil!!!”
“Y-you crazy girl!!!”
Though Dean Einhardt managed to stammer out a protest, Sora wasn’t done yet.
“Fine, I’m crazy!!! Watching my children get torn apart by your hands has driven me insane!!! What now? Should I tear you apart too!?”
“S-Sora! Keep calm, we can’t handle this!”
Attempting to calm her down was Howard, but upon seeing Sora’s eyes, he realized.
Sora had already given up on everything.
“I’m sorry, Professor Howard… I can’t take it anymore. I’m quitting today. Thank you for everything.”
“Sora?! SORA!!!!”
With that, Sora stood up and walked out of the conference room.
It was the moment when their final hope for solving the situation vanished.
