Monday night, WindyPeak Game Company, Director's Office.
Gus Harper gripped his controller, deep in Vampire Survivor.
Per WindyPeak's rules, work ends at five.
But Gus liked chilling in the office 'til seven or eight.
Not working—just vibing. Scrolling his phone, sipping tea, watching clips, or, like tonight, slashing skeletons in Vampire Survivor.
No family waiting, no rush to an empty house.
The office felt… less lonely.
Whoosh—slash!
The Grim Reaper's scythe split a skeleton on-screen. Gus dropped the controller.
His Mickey Mouse watch read nearly eight.
"Time to bounce."
Muttering, Gus stashed the controller and headed out.
But—
"Holy crap, what's this vibe?"
At the corridor's end, the conference room glowed… red.
WindyPeak's conference room was mostly decor, used maybe once a quarter.
Zoey Parker turned it into a private movie den more often than meetings happened.
Lights usually stayed off, the room empty.
But tonight, at eight?
Red light?
In the dark office, down a deserted hall, a creepy red glow pulsed.
Gus swallowed hard.
Memorial Day was just last week…
"A wake or something?"
He crept to the door, heart thumping, and peeked through a crack.
On the conference table: an iPad flanked by two red candles.
A paper cup held three lit cigarettes like incense.
Zoey, bathed in red light, stood before the iPad, hands clasped, muttering like a chant.
Gus froze.
What the heck?
Leave or ask?
Zoey stopped, bowed three times to the iPad, and opened her eyes.
Their gazes locked.
Dead silence.
"Eek!"
Zoey yelped like a startled cat, jumping:
"Gus, why're you creeping like a ghost?!"
"Me? A ghost?"
Gus scoffed, pushing the door open, flipping his phone to selfie mode, and aiming it at Zoey:
"Check this out—"
"Whoa!"
Zoey saw her distorted, red-lit face on-screen and stumbled back onto the sofa:
"Ghost!"
"That's you, dang it."
Gus flicked on the lights, eyeing the cigarette-filled cup and Zoey, panting in shock.
"So…"
Gus was stumped:
"You summoning something?"
"What? No way!"
Zoey huffed, standing, hands on hips, nodding at the iPad:
"I'm praying to the Cyber Tycoon, okay? Show some respect!"
Gus glanced at the iPad—a digital wealth icon glowed.
"…Wow."
Gus paused, then grinned:
"That's some next-level incense game."
"Limited setup," Zoey mumbled, scratching her head:
"Sincerity's what counts."
"Fair enough," Gus chuckled, stepping to the Cyber Tycoon and clasping his hands:
"Yo, Tycoon, bless WindyPeak with mad cash, let our games sell like hotcakes—"
"Hey, stop!"
Zoey's scalp tingled. She yanked Gus back, locked the iPad screen with a click!
"Why so rude?"
Zoey glared, nose wrinkled:
"You can't just wish like that! It's bad juju!"
Gus blinked:
"You locked the Tycoon in the tablet…"
"It's my Tycoon!"
Zoey clutched the iPad, guarding it:
"No wishing on my turf!"
"Alright, alright, your Tycoon," Gus laughed, raising his hands. "So, why're you praying in the conference room at night? I thought we had a wake going."
"Left 4 Dead 2's first-week sales drop tonight!"
Zoey puffed up:
"I'm asking the Tycoon for a blessing, cool?"
"No need for that…"
Gus shrugged:
"We're already number one, profits locked in. What's to pray for?"
Gus wasn't wrong.
In the FPS market, Left 4 Dead 2 crushed it.
The biggest rival, Radiant Games' Fearless Sniper, got steamrolled by Creative Workshop mods.
No domestic FPS matched them.
So, WindyPeak's team didn't sweat the first-week sales, clocking out early on settlement day.
But Zoey dropped a bombshell:
"Too small! Your vision's too small!"
She stood tall, hands on hips:
"I'm aiming for first-week breakeven!"
She wasn't kidding.
Her 100x rebate system meant a $1 loss netted $100.
A $10,000 loss? A million bucks.
To Gus, though—
Zoey's ambition shone like a beacon!
"Whoa—"
Gus gasped.
What a boss!
While everyone cheered Left 4 Dead 2's solid sales, Zoey eyed a breakeven miracle!
Her stance! Her vibe! Her goals!
Epic! Bold! Epic and bold!
Gus felt lucky to join WindyPeak.
Big budgets for dream games, even remaking classics!
Great pay, chill vibes, slack-off freedom!
A boss praying for losses via digital incense?
Name a better company!
Gus couldn't.
Even his own startup wouldn't match Zoey's chill.
What a boss…
Zoey's voice snapped him back: "Boss Harper, you think we'll break even first week?"
"Hmm—"
Gus got serious, thinking:
"Without Fearless Sniper's meddling, breakeven would've been easy."
"Their early hype and media blockade hit our sales hard."
"But don't sweat it. Even if we don't break even, we're close."
Zoey's heart raced—happy and nervous.
Boss Harper's market reads were gold.
No breakeven meant a loss.
But "close" sounded promising…
How close?
Please, not like Vampire Survivor's measly $5 loss for a $50 rebate!
A $1 loss for $100? She'd yeet herself out the window!
Beep, beep!
Zoey's alarm blared.
Gus checked his Mickey Mouse watch: "One minute left. Check it together?"
"Yup!"
Zoey took a deep breath, nodding.
They turned to the conference room's projection screen, showing IndieVibe Tech's developer dashboard.
Ten, nine, eight, seven…
Zoey gulped, heart pounding, eyes shut: "Boss Harper, read it out."
"Got it."
Gus counted down:
"Three, two, one…"
Click!
The dashboard refreshed!
Gus scanned the weekly summary, voice low:
"Left 4 Dead 2 cost $10.85 million, $85 per copy. First-week sales:"
"158,088 copies, $13,437,480 revenue. After commission, profit's—"
"$10.75 million."
"…Dang, just $100,000 shy of breakeven."
Five seconds of silence.
Zoey, eyes shut, trembled: "…How much?"
"$10.75 million."
"No, the last part."
"Dang, just $100,000 from breakeven. If Radiant hadn't messed with us, we'd have nailed it…"
Zoey tuned out Gus's analysis.
She peeked at the screen—data matched.
Then, a crisp sound rang in her mind:
Ding! Time's up! Investment settled!
The system interface popped up—
Ding! Project loss detected!
Project: Left 4 Dead 2
Investment: $10.85 million
Loss: $100,000
Ding! Super rebate card active! 100x bonus!
Rebate: $10 million
Settlement time: 0
Ding! Loss settled, rebate sent to host's bank card!
Zoey's phone buzzed—
Buzz—
Your debit card 1118 received $10,000,016.00 via mobile banking, April 15…
Ten… million!
Holy smokes!
Zoey's brain short-circuited.
She double-checked the number.
Gus, still at the screen, mused:
"Not bad. No first-week breakeven, but the investment's big."
"Bigger investment, longer profit cycle."
"Radiant's media blockade hurt our promo, so we leaned on player buzz."
"We'll push marketing harder next—"
"Boss Harper!!!"
Zoey's voice, bursting with excitement, cut him off!
"Huh?"
Gus, still analyzing, didn't turn:
"What's up? Sales got you hyped?"
Zoey pocketed her phone, eyes sparkling, grinning ear to ear.
"Yup," Gus said, lost in thought about next steps: "Pretty exciting, right?"
Zoey nodded hard: "Super exciting!"
"How much?" Gus tossed out, half-focused.
Zoey's reply—
"Yesss—"
She backed up, crouched like a long jumper, aimed at Gus, and sprang!
"Hey! That hyped?!" Gus laughed as Zoey tackled him, piggyback-style!
Ten million!
A year with the rebate system, and her biggest payout was $50!
Ten million had her over the moon!
"Whoa!"
Gus caught a whiff of peach perfume as Zoey's arms looped his neck.
He steadied himself: "Why're you this hyped to ride me?!"
"Riding high on success!" Zoey grinned, patting his shoulder:
"You wouldn't get it. Move!"
"This is boss-on-employee abuse!" Gus griped.
"Abuse?" Zoey shot back: "I'm under 90 pounds, not 90 kilos!"
"I'm a director, Zoey! People look up to me! If someone sees this—"
"Dinner's on me, pick anything."
"…Fine, I'll carry you downstairs."
"Can I pick a song?"
"Too far, Zoey! Mounts don't sing! I'm not a karaoke bot!"
"Add a deluxe iced latte!"
"Grandpa's grandpa is great-grandpa…"
"Hahahaha!"
Then Gus's phone rang.
Amid Zoey's giggles, he answered:
"Yo, Gus Harper."
A voice replied: "Mr. Harper, sorry to bother you. I'm calling today—"
"Nah, pass."
Gus, sensing a sales pitch, hung up, then carried Zoey out of the room…