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Chapter 270: Straight Fire
🕑 Added 2025-09-07 07:30:43 +0000 UTCWhoa—!
Eighty to ninety million bucks!
Zoey Parker nearly clapped with glee.
Lit! Absolutely lit!
Sekiro’s total cost was just under $200M. And now Tetsuya Moritan’s throwing out $80M–$90M for Peak Nation?
As expected from a big-league vet like Komina’s ex-number-two. Dude’s got vision, experience, and some serious clout.
Check that scope! That swagger!
Hell yeah.
When Peak Nation kicked off, Gus Harper’s rough math pegged it at $40M–$60M. Now Tetsuya’s coming in hot, flipping the script, nearly doubling it!
With a baller like this, Zoey’s dream of burning cash was in sight.
She waved a hand. “Yo, Tetsuya, gotta call you out here.”
Huh?
Tetsuya froze, realizing his budget spike might’ve gone too far. The original plan was, what, $50M? And he doubled it?
He dipped his head. “Sorry, my bad, President Parker! Just my half-baked pitch. Lay it on me!”
Gus glanced at Zoey, then at Tetsuya. He knew Zoey was about to school the ex-Komina crew. Smirking, he stood, offered Zoey the main seat, and grabbed her mint-green coat.
Swish—
Zoey sat down like a boss, brow furrowed, tapping the table. “Perfect timing. Let’s have a quick team huddle, not just for Director Moritan.”
“Steel Chain Fingers crew, listen up and take notes.”
Flip—
Notebooks opened. Eyes locked on Zoey, ready for the big boss’s wisdom.
Except for three guys, chilling, half-smirking: Gus Harper, Luke Bennett, Jake Rivers. They knew Zoey’s spiel by heart.
Three years in, her mantra was carved into WindyPeak’s soul.
“We’re all about making games as dope and polished as possible, within the company’s cash limits!” Zoey declared.
“Golden Experience Studio’s not here, but big props to them. Sekiro’s initial plan was $150M. They pushed it to nearly $200M because they dared to dream big, spend big, and knew how to spend.”
“Team—”
Zoey’s voice softened, earnest. “I’m not some bean-counter chasing high budgets. But cost? It’s tied to quality. Hell, it’s tied to your imagination, your creativity.”
“You’re scared to dream past $30M or $50M? How do you make a banger game? How do you drop something iconic?”
She paused, eyeing the Steel Chain Fingers crew, then locking on Tetsuya. “Director Moritan, what kinda company are we?”
Tetsuya was shook. Wait… what?
President Parker’s saying… his imagination’s too small? He’s not spending enough?
“We’re… uh…” Tetsuya, usually sharp, fumbled, answering on instinct. “A gaming company.”
“Exactly!” Zoey clapped, nodding. “We make games, not spreadsheets. Why you sweating costs?”
She grinned, waving Tetsuya to chill. “Tetsuya, you gotta get with the vibe. Scared of $80M or $90M? How you gonna tackle big projects?”
“Here’s a test.” She raised a pinky, pointing at Gus. “Push Peak Nation’s budget to $100M. Gus, you’re on supervision duty. Make it happen.”
What—?!
Tetsuya’s jaw dropped.
Seeing is believing!
He’d heard Zoey Parker was a legend, fearless with losses, ready to go all-in. But reverse budget cuts? Straight-up wild.
My vision’s been too small, Tetsuya thought, taking a deep breath.
He’d figured old WindyPeak went hard because they were scrappy, barefoot, and fearless. But now? His scope was tiny compared to this.
We’re a gaming company.
That vision! That flex! That clarity!
No wonder WindyPeak churned out bangers.
Tetsuya sighed. Kenji Ueyama, you fossil. You should see Zoey’s game. Lived that long and still clueless. Deserve to crash.
He nodded, face serious. Before, he’d followed Gus for his wild ideas, cool-headedness, and charisma. But now?
Zoey Parker—lovable, sharp, and kind—shot up in his respect. Age didn’t cap ambition. Respect hit hard.
“I get it, President Parker,” Tetsuya said. “I won’t let you down.”
Woo!
Zoey cheered internally. Fancy money-burner, locked in!
Gus was already trained to spend without blinking. Now with Tetsuya, dropping cash in style, costs might outpace revenue one day. Then? She’d be raking it in, chilling.
Zoey clapped, hyped. “Anything else?”
The room swapped glances, shaking heads. Gus and Tetsuya’s plan was fire—only snag was cost. Now, with Zoey rounding it to $100M, money was no issue.
“Sweet! We’re done!” Zoey stood, strutting to the conference room door and swinging it open. “Time to hand out gifts!”
Rum-rum-rum.
A security guard rolled in a cart stacked with colorful packages.
The room lit up with smiles. Word was out since morning—Zoey hit the shops for gifts. Now they were here, and everyone was stoked.
Who doesn’t love gifts, especially from the boss herself?
The vibe hit Tetsuya, too, his smile genuine. Five days at WindyPeak, and he was sold—this place was the best gaming company he’d ever seen.
High pay, chill environment, tight team, and crazy creativity. Zoey, the big boss, kept the love flowing with random gifts.
“Director Moritan, heads up!” Zoey called.
“Huh?” Tetsuya caught a small, slickly wrapped box she tossed. “You’re one of us now. Gus said you smoke, so here’s a little toy.”
Tetsuya peeked. S.T. Dupont Gallicus classic wheat ear silver-plated lighter.
He froze for two seconds. “No… way…?”
A toy? This was a luxury lighter, retailing at Seattle shops for at least $1,142.86!
WindyPeak’s “little gift” was a grand-plus flex?
“This is too much…” Tetsuya wasn’t broke—Dupont wasn’t out of his league. But a company handing these out?
At Komina, gifts were rare. The fanciest he got as managing director was a sake set with glasses. Was this lighter a perk for WindyPeak execs?
Before he could protest, more gifts hit the table.
“Yuki, you said your skincare was running low, right? Got you a set…” A Helena gift box floated by, worth over $1,000.
“Kazu, you needed a speaker? Here’s one…” A Bowers & Wilkins Dolby Bluetooth speaker, another grand-plus.
“Sora, saw your dope Insta posts. This lens is for you…” A Canon zoom lens, casually handed over, $1,000 easy.
Watches, necklaces, scarves, coats—gifts kept coming, dazzling Tetsuya. Prices hovered around $1,000 each, give or take.
He was numb. Not just me. Everyone’s getting grand-tier “little gifts”!
Ten people? That’s $10,000–$11,428.57. Across Golden Experience, Steel Chain Fingers, Max’s ops team? Over $28,571.43 in “small gifts.”
And this was just Zoey’s whim—not a bonus, holiday gift, or big reward.
Wilder still? Zoey remembered everyone’s preferences. Yuki got skincare, Sora a lens, Kazu a speaker. Personal touches.
No wonder this place is so tight-knit.
Tetsuya flicked the lighter’s lid. Click! He laughed, relief and awe mixing. Fate’s got my back, landing me here at 40 to build a gaming empire.
Later that night, Gus stood before a mirror, rocking pajamas and a camel-colored wool scarf, looking like a cozy dork.
“Yo, you’re playing favorites,” he teased Zoey. “Everyone’s getting $1,000 gifts. Jake and Shane’s wedding rings? Over $2,857.14! And I get a no-brand scarf?”
Zoey adjusted the scarf, smirking. “What? No brand? It’s Burberry, dude!”
Gus shrugged. The scarf was long, kinda plain, but cozy as hell, even at home.
“Why’d you ditch the tag?” he asked, loosening it.
“They didn’t pay me to flex their logo,” Zoey said, hopping to the fridge like a giddy bunny, grabbing two Cokes. “You’re a big-shot game designer now. Public figure vibes—can’t be a walking billboard unless they pay up.”
Gus took the icy Coke, chuckling. “Damn, you’re a straight-up hustler.”
“Heh!” Zoey patted his shoulder, sipping her Coke. “Learn from the master, Harper.” She strutted to the bathroom, hands behind her back.
Gus shook his head, folding the scarf—then paused. Something about the tassels caught his eye. Uneven, a bit messy.
Burberry’s known for checkered cashmere scarves. Knit ones? Not their thing. And this quality? Kinda off.
He spread it out, checking both ends. At one, near the tassels, woven in slightly darker camel thread, was a tiny word, doubled up: wonderful.
Zoey, you cheesy goof.
Gus grinned, folding it carefully, pressing it to his face. So warm.
