DLC. Downloadable Content. In his old life, Alex Vance had overseen the creation of dozens of them. They were expansions, additions—a way to enrich a game's world after its release. He thought of it like a master chef preparing a signature dish, and then offering a perfectly paired side that elevates the entire experience. The game was the main course; the DLC was that essential, extra flavor.
The main story of Resident Evil 7 was a masterpiece of survival horror. It followed Ethan, an ordinary man searching for his wife in a derelict Louisiana mansion, who falls into the clutches of the terrifying, mutated Baker family. But woven into that story were a series of found-footage videotapes starring a doomed photographer named Clancy. The DLCs told Clancy's story—the grim, hopeless chapters that happened before Ethan ever arrived.
One of them, "21," was a stroke of brilliant, sadistic genius. Captured by the Bakers' twisted son, Lucas, Clancy is forced into a high-stakes, life-or-death game of blackjack. Each round is a crisis: lose, and you might lose a finger, or suffer a massive electric shock. It was a bloody, psychological puzzle box.
That was why Leo had chosen it. It was small in scope, its rules were simple, but the tension it could generate was immense. For players in his old world, desensitized by decades of on-screen violence, it was a tense diversion. But here? In this world, for players whose concept of horror was still in its infancy? To put them in a VR headset, to sit them down at that table where they could almost feel the grimy cards in their hands and see the madman across from them… it would be a revelation. It would be an introduction to the true, intimate charm of death.
He opened the system store. The full Resident Evil 7 package cost a jaw-dropping 105 million Fright Value—a universe away from his current balance. But a single DLC was within reach.
He selected "21." The price appeared: 210,000 Fright Value.
Expensive for an expansion, but it was worth it. He confirmed the purchase. A sound like a cascade of falling coins echoed in his mind, and his Fright Value dropped to 358,000.
He was still in the kitchen, his hands methodically working on the pork intestines, when the information flooded his brain. It was a dizzying, instantaneous download—the complete development tutorial, the conceptual designs, and most importantly, the intricate blueprint for converting the entire experience into a flawless VR build. In the space of two breaths, the knowledge was no longer something he was learning; it was a skill he possessed.
He let out a long, slow exhale. "Okay," he murmured, a wry smile on his face. "No art resources, just as I thought." The system wasn't going to make it that easy. "Alright then. Recruiting starts tomorrow."
That night, when his parents returned from another grueling overtime shift, they stopped dead in the doorway, their tired faces a mask of astonishment. The small dining table was laden with a feast that looked and smelled like something from a high-end restaurant. Maya's eyes were wide as saucers. "What's the special occasion?" she asked.
Leo, who was just pulling a final plate of steaming dumplings from the pot, shrugged with a casual smile. "I found a job," he lied, the words feeling both foreign and natural. "I start tomorrow. Figured we should celebrate."
The relief that washed over his parents' faces was a tangible thing. They didn't doubt him for a second. His mother's weary eyes softened with pride, and his father clapped him gently on the shoulder. Maya let out a whoop of delight and immediately grabbed her chopsticks, her earlier surprise forgotten in the face of imminent, delicious food.
They sat down to eat, the small apartment filled with a warmth that had nothing to do with the stove. His parents chatted about their day, the small triumphs and frustrations of their work, while Maya happily narrated the plot of the drama she was watching.
Leo ate quietly, observing his new family. He watched his mother, her hands sallow and wrinkled from years of washing dishes, gently pick up a perfectly pleated dumpling. She dipped it in sauce and placed it in his bowl, then did the same for Maya. Only then did she take one for herself, eagerly taking a bite without dipping it, hissing as the hot soup inside burned her tongue.
He watched his father, who had picked up a piece of the crispy, savory fried intestine, chewing with a look of pure, unadulterated bliss on his face.
Leo got up, went to the refrigerator, and returned with two cold beers, placing one in front of his father. The man's eyes lit up. He took the bottle, twisted off the cap, and took a long, deep swallow, leaning back with a sigh of profound contentment.
This was his family. An ordinary, hardworking family who deserved so much more than this life had given them. He didn't tell them about the millions of dollars that were about to be deposited into his company's account. It wasn't time. The money was real, but it wasn't his yet—it was the company's. It was fuel for the future. He would wait. He would wait until the company was stable, until he had enough to not just promise them a new life, but to hand them the keys to a new house. He wouldn't give them hope to cling to; he would give them a finished reality.
The next day, he walked into the empty office of Only Game. He stood for a moment at the front desk, looking at the glowing sign on the wall, a small, satisfied smile on his face.
He had already purchased new computers and office supplies. From now on, this would be his workshop. His home was for his family; this was for Alex Vance.
He sat down in his private office and began the process of building his team. The system had provided the concepts; he needed artists to bring them to life. He posted the first job openings for his new company.
One 3D Modeler.One Scene Designer.One Animator.
He could handle the programming and planning himself for now. Original art and special effects were also covered by the system's tools. And he would need to hire a finance manager soon, but the most urgent need was art.
He then made a call to Unlimited Online Entertainment, leveraging their industry connections to help him procure a professional-grade motion capture system. As he'd expected, they agreed immediately, eager to prove their value as a partner.
With the logistical gears now in motion, he turned his attention back to his own work. The final chapter of Dark Forest was already seventy percent complete. Another three or four days, and the Early Access version would be finished. The sales would climb, his Fright Value would grow, and the real plan—the VR revolution—would finally, truly begin.
PLS SUPPORT ME AND THROW POWERSTONES .