Walter Brandt parked his aging silver Opel just outside the entrance. For a moment, he left the engine running, staring ahead through the windshield like he wasn't quite sure why he had come.
A few days ago, he'd seen a job listing in the local paper:
"Elysion Park – A New Beginning. Now hiring experienced technical staff for long-term collaboration."
That name still sounded strange to him. This place had been Löwenpark once—run-down, forgotten, held together with duct tape and optimism. He knew, because he'd worked here. Long ago.
He killed the engine, stepped out, and zipped up his coat. The late-winter wind carried the scent of something unexpected: warm syrup. He followed it with his eyes—and stopped.
The entrance was unrecognizable.
Polished signs bearing the new name shimmered in the sunlight. Elegant lampposts framed wide, paved paths lined with fresh flowers and small trees. A dark wood food outlet with copper lettering read Globe & Griddle. And near the corner of the plaza, a Wild Mouse coaster rose proudly behind a mural of a cartoon mouse in aviator goggles.
"This can't be the same place," he muttered.
Back in the '90s, Walter had been the park's technical coordinator. He remembered cracked pavement, flickering lights, and the same three rides limping through every weekend. He'd left in 2005, just before the park's slow death became irreversible.
But this?
Someone had given it life again.
Walter crossed the small parking area and walked up to the new entrance plaza. It was closed to the public, but the work was clearly still ongoing. Screens around the plaza displayed artist renders, time-lapse footage of the renovations, and a looping visual of the park's new logo: Elysion Park – Discover the Wonders Beyond.
He stood silently, arms folded.
Who brought this place back?
No answer came, of course. But something about it stirred a feeling deep in his chest—part nostalgia, part curiosity. Whoever was doing this wasn't just trying to clean up the park. They were building something new. And somehow, Walter felt like he needed to know more.
Near the staff gate, he noticed a small intercom next to a sign that read:
"Staff & Deliveries – Please ring."
He hesitated for a moment. Then pressed the button.
BZZT.
A voice crackled through the speaker. "Hello?"
"Uh, good afternoon," Walter said. "Name's Walter Brandt. I saw the ad in the paper. I used to work here... a long time ago. I was wondering if someone might have a few minutes to talk."
There was a pause. Then:"Please wait. Someone will come meet you at the gate."
Walter stepped back. The wind tugged at his coat again, but he didn't mind the cold.
He just stood there, eyes fixed on the park that wasn't his anymore—but maybe, just maybe, could be again.
Lucas walked briskly toward the staff gate, still tugging on his jacket. The message from the intercom had just come through: someone was here about the job posting. He wasn't expecting anyone today, but after weeks of contractors and suppliers, he was getting used to surprises.
As he turned the corner, he saw a man standing patiently near the gate. He looked to be in his mid-fifties, tall and broad-shouldered, with a short gray beard and eyes that immediately scanned every detail of the park visible from the entrance.
Lucas opened the gate and offered a hand. "Hi, I'm Lucas. You rang the bell?"
The man took his hand in a firm, steady grip. "Walter Brandt. I used to work here. A long time ago."
Lucas raised an eyebrow. "Really?"
"Back in the '90s. Technical coordinator, mostly electrical systems and maintenance. I left in 2005, when things were... well, going downhill."
Lucas nodded slowly. "You're not wrong. I think the place barely scraped by after that."
Walter gave a half-smile, still looking past him into the renovated plaza. "This isn't scraping by. This is something else entirely."
Lucas hesitated, unsure how much to reveal. "We're rebuilding. Properly this time."
Walter chuckled. "So I see. The entrance alone must've cost a fortune. That new building—Globe & Griddle?"
"Yep," Lucas said, gesturing back. "New food and beverage point. Still finishing the interior."
The older man looked back at him. "You the new owner?"
Lucas nodded. "Inherited it, actually. My uncle—he used to run it."
Walter's face softened. "Your uncle was Andreas?"
Lucas blinked. "You knew him?"
Walter nodded. "Everyone in this business knew Andreas. Stubborn as hell, but he loved the place. He kept it alive longer than anyone expected."
Lucas smiled faintly. "Yeah. He left it to me when he passed."
A moment of silence passed between them.
"Well," Walter said finally, "if you're looking for help—real help, not just ride operators—I'd be interested. Not full-time, not anymore. But I can offer experience. And perspective."
Lucas studied him. He didn't know much about managing staff yet, but he knew what he needed: someone grounded. Someone who knew what the old park had been, and what it could become.
"I'd like that," Lucas said. "We're just getting started. I could really use someone who understands more than I do."
Walter cracked a smile. "That's most people, when it comes to running a park."
Lucas laughed. "Fair."
He stepped aside and gestured toward the plaza. "Want a tour?"
"I thought you'd never ask."
As they walked past the compass-shaped logo and toward the central courtyard, Lucas found himself explaining things—not just the renovations, but his ideas, his hopes, even some of his doubts. Walter listened more than he spoke, occasionally asking questions that cut straight to the point.
For the first time in weeks, Lucas didn't feel like he was guessing his way through everything.
He had someone to lean on now.
After the tour with Walter, Lucas returned to the office behind Globe & Griddle. The air smelled faintly of fresh paint and printer ink—a sign that the interior work was almost finished. He sat down at the small desk in the corner, opened his laptop, and took a deep breath.
System Notification:New Staff Requirements IdentifiedCurrent Park Coverage: 38%Immediate Priority Roles:– F&B Crew (Globe & Griddle)– Front Gate Hosts– Cleaning Staff– Ride Operators (Carousel, Wild Mouse)– General Park Support
Lucas rubbed his temples. The more the park grew, the more he realized how much he didn't know. He'd been so focused on renovation and theming, he hadn't even started planning the operational side properly.
"System," he muttered. "Show me a breakdown."
A list appeared in his vision, detailed and relentless:
🚧 Operational Staff Required (Pre-Opening Phase)
Ride Operators– Carousel: 2 per shift– Wild Mouse: 3 per shift
F&B Staff– Globe & Griddle: 4–6 per day
Cleaning Crew: Minimum 3 for regular rounds
Front Gate Team: 2–3 for ticketing & entry
Park Technicians: 1 full-time recommended
Guest Relations: Optional, but advised
Walter had brought up a good point earlier—he didn't need to start from zero. A lot of the former staff had stayed local, and some might even want to return.
Lucas scrolled through the personnel files that had been preserved digitally in the park's ancient systems. Dozens of names. Some were clearly out of date, but a few matched ones he'd heard during past meetings or old staff stories from his uncle.
He created a shortlist of past employees to reach out to. Many would need retraining—but they'd already know the layout, the rhythm of the seasons, and the heartbeat of the park before it died.
Just as he began drafting emails, another message appeared:
System Suggestion:Hire Assistant Manager for Operations OversightProfile Recommendation: Walter BrandtExperience Level: HighAvailability: Confirmed (part-time)Approval: Pending…
Lucas smiled faintly and clicked "Approve".
That left one more big decision: recruitment.
He began drafting a job announcement with clear roles, part-time and full-time options, and specific mention of upcoming weekends and reopening preparations. The park was still closed to the public, but March was approaching fast.
Before hitting send, he paused.
System Reminder:Personal Funds – UnusedPayroll must be covered by park's operational reserves.Estimated first month payroll (starting team): €26,000
The system funds were strictly for development—but the park did have some reserve capital. Enough to carry a small crew for a few months if needed, especially with his personal account untouched.
Lucas saved the draft and leaned back in his chair.
The park had rides. It had a new name, fresh paths, and a vision.Now, it needed people to bring it all to life.
And he wasn't going to do it alone anymore.