Hah!
Gus Harper's question has Zoey Parker cackling inside.
Why am I stunned?
How's that coming out of your mouth?
You stabbed me in the back, and you're asking why I'm frozen?
Why not ask a magic 8-ball?
Your promise, huh? Your cooking game… no, battle game?!
We had a deal!
How's a cooking game now an FPS?
And!
Judging by the crowd—competitors, media, all losing it—Gus's new trick's even wilder than Left 4 Dead!
Zoey's itching, half-ready to yeet herself.
Everything was smooth sailing!
Campus hiring, $50M budget, all locked in!
Sure, there were hiccups, but no biggie!
Her "cooking game" plan was gonna tank PUBG's results—genius!
Victory was hers!
But!
Who'd have thought?
This "cooking game" was Gus's fake-out!
Freaking snake!
Zoey's teeth grind.
But wait—doesn't add up.
Gus doesn't know she's gunning to lose money. Why trick her?
Zoey's neck creaks as she glares at Gus:
"Didn't you say… not PUBG, but a cooking game?"
"Did I?"
Gus pauses, then chuckles:
"Oh, yeah! I said 'it's a cooking game in a way.' Dang, your memory's sharp, hahaha."
What the heck?!
Zoey's fists clench. If she didn't hold back, she'd swing!
Bullcrap!
My memory's too good!
Your line fooled me for a month!
Screw this!
Zoey regrets not checking Gus's PUBG plan. She wouldn't be blindsided!
"So, what's this?"
Zoey, a volcano ready to blow, points at the stage's promo poster:
"Explain!"
"Chill, I was just messing around," Gus laughs, waving it off:
"Think about it—100 players, guns, vehicles, all kinds of wild deaths."
"It's competitive. Like they say, battling others is endless fun."
"When PUBG drops, you'll see all sorts of crazy plays—players eating it left and right."
"It's a cook-off of epic fails—chefs serving chaos!"
"So, calling it a cooking game? Not a stretch, hahaha…"
Gus smirks at Zoey, teasing:
"What? You didn't actually think I'd make a cooking game?"
"Hahaha, that's wild. I'd have to be nuts to pick a loser like that. You'd never sign off, right…"
He winks, then turns to chat with Leo Finch from Fury Games.
Hiss—!
Zoey's fuming!
Where's my knife?!
You cheap jerk—I'm gonna end you, you snake!
Her face cycles through colors, wishing Gus a long, miserable life.
It's not about company cash—Zoey only gets 40% of 10% profit, no big deal.
But!
Of the $50M PUBG budget, $10M is her savings!
Her precious $10M!
Not even warm in her pocket yet!
All dumped into this!
Worse, that $10M's her personal investment!
Per system rules, Project Investment Amount only counts company funds. Bank loans, dividends, or external cash don't count.
That's why Zoey begged her dad for funds, then paid out of pocket when he said no.
Her and her dad's money doesn't need repayment—it's free capital for WindyPeak, boosting the system's investment total.
Like, PUBG was $10M short.
Bank loan? System counts $40M.
Her pocket? System counts $50M.
Losing's easier with a bigger budget.
But!
Gus's cooking-to-shooter switch wrecked her plan!
This won't stand!
Zoey's face hardens.
I gotta save my cash!
She needs to lose at least $1M on this $50M project to break even.
Her goal's simple—save her piggy bank!
But losing $1M in a week? Big problem.
PUBG's hype—crowd going nuts—means even if it doesn't win, sales will rock.
Left 4 Dead (158,088 copies, $13.437M revenue, $10.75M profit) proved it: competitor buzz equals sales.
Zoey can't just pray for a flop.
She's gotta act.
Simple fix—nitpick the project, demand endless changes, slow it down.
Miss the five-month deadline, and the committee disqualifies them.
No Asian Games promo, no "full access to Asia's sensory cabin platforms."
Release then, and a $50M game tanks easy.
But Zoey can't go that far.
First, it's too shady. She wants to lose, not be a villain.
Second, Gus would catch on, maybe quit, tanking her system.
Not worth it.
But if she doesn't slow things, Jonah York and his Nebula Games crew might make PUBG too perfect.
She needs balance—finish the game, but keep it rough.
Just lose $1M to save her cash.
Problem is, as a newbie, Zoey's clueless about managing that precisely.
Asking Gus directly? Too obvious.
Zoey frowns. Who to ask?
Then the host's voice booms:
The final studio's done, and the Most Anticipated Game Award voting—200 media, 500 players—wraps up.
No shock—PUBG sweeps it with its wild gameplay!
Gus hits the stage to grab the award.
Zoey rolls her eyes, seizes his seat, and nods at Leo Finch:
"Yo, Director Finch."
"Hey, Ms. Parker," Leo nods back.
WindyPeak's small, but Zoey's big-time background makes Leo respectful:
"What's up?"
"No orders, just picking your brain," Zoey grins:
"Our project… think we'll hit the deadline?"
Leo laughs:
"Haha, you and Director Harper are in sync. We just talked this."
"Gus was worried about progress."
"For PUBG, five months is tight. Without rushing, you'll get a basic prototype."
"Gameplay's fine, but no time for polish—details, bugs, lag, stability issues."
"More staff or budget could fix it."
"But, no offense, WindyPeak's strapped."
"So, I told Gus—special times, special measures."
"Like, use project dividends to hype employees for overtime."
"Maybe not a championship, but you won't flop."
"Overtime bonuses sound like less profit, but a polished game sells better."
"Unpolished? Bugs, lag, bad vibes—tanks sales."
Leo nods at Zoey:
"Just my two cents. I'm blunt, so hope you're cool with it."
"Nah, Director Finch, you're a lifesaver!" Zoey shakes his hand, beaming.
Dude's real!
Leo's all-in for WindyPeak, dropping gold.
And his take? Pure clutch for Zoey!
Especially: Unpolished games tank sales!
Exactly her vibe!
Leo's breakdown gives her the playbook—overtime or not controls sales.
Zoey's smile's back.
Plan's simple now!
Ban overtime, keep PUBG a rough prototype.
Wait a week, lose $1M, recover her cash, then let Gus polish.
No overtime, game launches on time, she loses money, rep stays solid.
Four birds, one stone—perfect play, low cost.
Everybody wins!
…
So stoked!
Gus returns with the award.
First words? Four big ones: Push for overtime.
After chatting with Leo Finch, Gus thinks bonuses are the only way to polish PUBG.
Zoey's smug as heck!
Nice try, buddy, hahaha!
Just talked to Leo—you think I'm greenlighting that?!
Her face goes stern, brows furrow:
"Gus, cut the anti-team talk."
Gus: ???
"Bonuses for overtime? How's that anti-team?"
"Ugh, think," Zoey says, all serious:
"Two weeks ago, I told the newbies we're all about chill, free, humane vibes."
"Bonuses for 'voluntary' overtime? That's fair?"
"You're wrong, Gus. You're pushing toxic hustle!"
"Put yourself in their shoes. Colleagues grinding overnight for bonuses—what'd you think?"
"Even if you don't want the cash, can you just leave?"
"Plus, our team's small, and PUBG needs tight teamwork."
"Some grind, others don't? Workflow's toast—overtime's wasted."
"And—"
"We picked this wild project, we gotta own its flaws."
"Everest's there. Can't climb it today? There's tomorrow."
"Games, especially ones needing updates, start rough."
"We don't just drop it and dip."
"Better to launch on time than miss the deadline and get DQ'd, right?"
"Makes sense?"
Hiss—!!!
Gus gasps!
Dang, that logic's airtight!!!
He's shook!
No comeback!
Gus stares at Zoey like she's a stranger—first time seeing her!
Her points are too good!
Sure, the game'll launch unpolished, full of bugs.
But Zoey's got the team's back!
Gus opens his mouth three times—no flaws, no words!
Zoey, seeing Gus choke, is cackling inside!
Gotcha!
When it's about cash, my brain's crystal clear!
Me! Zoey Parker! Genius!
"You're pushing toxic hustle" shut Gus down!
Speak!
What's your move?
Today's lesson—no extra hours!!!
"Got other ideas?" Zoey smirks at Gus.
After ages—
Gus grumbles, defeated, and nods:
"Yo—Prez dropping genius takes!"