Victor Lang exhaled, loosening his tie. His shirt was soaked with sweat as he watched Zoey Parker leave IndieVibe's San Francisco HQ.
What a mess.
But deep down, he was almost giddy.
Since taking the CEO gig at IndieVibe, Victor had been itching to gut the old guard—guys like Marcus Chen who'd been milking the system forever.
Victor was young, sharp, and idealistic. The gaming industry was a dumpster fire: big studios like the industry giants churned out copycat games, chasing cash over creativity.
Today's a battle pass, tomorrow's a loot box, the next day's a limited skin drop.
Playability? Who cared?
Players were just wallets to bleed dry.
And IndieVibe, a top-tier platform, was complicit.
Every move they made rippled through the gaming world. They should be championing quality, lifting up fresh talent.
Instead, the platform's dirty secret was pay-to-play: big studios with deep pockets got prime homepage spots, no matter how lazy their games were.
Devs made bank, IndieVibe took its cut, and execs like Marcus pocketed "gifts." Win-win-win—except for players stuck with recycled slop.
Victor's take? It was a death spiral.
Let this rot fester, and IndieVibe would sink like a leaky ship.
His plan: enforce real merit, spotlight new designers, and make IndieVibe the launchpad for indie talent.
Maybe even go global someday.
But reform meant war with the old dogs—guys like Marcus who'd built empires on backroom deals.
Their interests were locked in; they'd never budge.
Victor had been waiting for a spark to clean house.
Today, Zoey Parker handed him a flamethrower.
His face darkened as he called Secretary Carter.
"Get Marcus Chen in here. Now."
…
Victor moved fast.
In under two days, IndieVibe dropped a bombshell.
Back at Tech Tower in Seattle, Zoey opened the IndieVibe app, expecting the usual.
Instead, a pop-up hit her screen:
Apology Letter
She blinked, clicking through.
A multi-page wall of text unrolled, thousands of words long.
"Dear players, designers, and supporters of IndieVibe…"
Zoey's eyebrows shot up.
Victor wasn't playing.
The letter laid it all bare: every detail of the ranking swap, the tampered lists, timestamps, and screenshots as proof.
Zoey gave a silent thumbs-up.
For a platform like IndieVibe to air its dirty laundry like this—owning the fallout—took guts.
The results were brutal:
Nebula Games was caught rigging the fest, bribing staff. Their games were yanked from IndieVibe, their eligibility revoked, and legal action was on the table.
The guilty employees—clearly Marcus Chen and his crew—were fired, no rehires. Big-ticket offenders faced potential embezzlement charges.
WindyPeak's Vampire Survivor would get its random ranking restored and its first-round vote rank fixed, starting today. Compensation details would drop tomorrow.
Damn, Victor, Zoey thought, sucking on a lollipop.
This was savage.
IndieVibe was a private company—technically, "corruption" wasn't a thing. Most would sweep this under the rug.
But Victor was out for blood, threatening lawsuits to bury the culprits.
Even if they dodged jail, their careers were toast.
Zoey was impressed.
She'd just wanted to flex, make IndieVibe stop treating her like a chump.
WindyPeak could flop on her terms—she didn't need some suits rigging her out of the game.
Now, with Nebula banned, Marcus fired, and a public apology, she'd won.
The "compensation" at the end? Whatever. She didn't care about the spotlight.
Case closed.
Or so she thought.
Knock, knock.
Chloe Quinn bounced into Zoey's office, all smiles, clutching a stack of papers.
"Zoey, IndieVibe sent over a custom compensation plan," she said, sliding the documents across the desk. "Victor says if it's not enough, we can add more!"
Zoey snorted, leaning back. "Compensation? I wasn't in it for cash. It was about respect."
She glanced at the papers, expecting some token gesture.
Her smile froze.
In black and white, IndieVibe's "compensation" was a nightmare:
To offset ranking losses, Vampire Survivor would be pinned to the IndieVibe random list's top spots for five days, starting midnight tomorrow, until the fest ended.
To fix the vote rigging, Vampire Survivor would reclaim its rightful first-round rank and get a five-day splash screen announcement, starting tomorrow.
To make up for lost promo, Vampire Survivor would headline the homepage banner for five days, starting tomorrow.
WindyPeak could request additional compensation.
Silence.
Dead silence.
Zoey's face went pale, like she'd seen a ghost.
Her "salty fish" dream—tanking WindyPeak on purpose—was crumbling.
This wasn't just exposure; it was a spotlight that'd make Vampire Survivor explode on Twitch, Reddit, and GameRant.
Chloe tilted her head. "Zoey… you okay? You look like you're gonna pass out."