A Distinctive Style

Uchida Makoto stared intently at the whiteboard, his once cloudy eyes now shining with an alarming intensity.

"Not only that," Takuya continued, "We're going to design several powerful boss-level demons, like Shuten-doji and Great Tengu. We'll defeat them, seal them in our swords, and summon them as substitutes/messengers at crucial moments. Just imagine the visual impact! Of course, that'll cost us Half-Life."

The only sound in the meeting room was the scratching of pens on paper.

The burly men, who had been dejected, now had eyes that gleamed with a ferocity more intense than those of hungry wolves.

Just hearing about this setup makes my palms sweat.

"Don't make the plot like those melodramatic, simplistic revenge stories." Takuya took a sip of coffee to moisten his throat. "The monsters we've encountered along the way aren't all bad. Some just want someone to have a drink with, and some are simply keeping a promise."

The protagonist's relationship with these creatures begins with conflict, but eventually transforms them into bonds in battle. What I'm looking for is that poignant feeling of "wandering the world with a sword, where humans and ghosts share different paths."

"As for the ending—" Takuya drew a circle at the bottom of the whiteboard, "... fighting his way into the eerie Heian-kyo, joining forces with the great Onmyoji Abe no Seimei under the Rashomon Gate, and together they seal away the Yamata no Orochi. Isn't that a classic storyline?"

Uchida Makoto had completely forgotten his earlier dejection. Staring at the densely packed settings on the whiteboard, he seemed to already see that bizarre and fantastical world. "Executive Director, the design scope of this game—it's probably enormous."

"Of course it's significant. From the tranquility of human villages to the eeriness of the Demon-Haunted Plain, and then to the oppressive atmosphere of the heart of Heian-kyo, the map is not just a road, but also a ladder of emotions." Takuya put down his pen and looked at the group. "So, are you willing to take this job?"

"Take it! You have to take it!" Uchida Makoto jumped up, his chair sliding backward from the impact of his thigh. "If I can't even do this, my hands should be chopped off and fed to the dogs."

Rieko Kodama, who had been silent until now, rested her chin on her hand, deep in thought, "Executive Director, since this game's system is so 'weird,' shouldn't the art style match up? A regular art style probably wouldn't be able to suppress this evil aura."

"You have an idea?" Takuya, looking at her.

"Ukiyo-e," Rieko Kodama uttered, her eyes shining. "Those exaggerated lines of the limbs, the intense clash of colors, and that unique wave-like texture. If we could use the 2D capabilities of a next-generation console to animate these ancient paintings—"

"Smack!"

Takuya snapped his fingers and gave her an approving look, "That's exactly what I wanted. Make the background like a scroll painting, and the characters' movements should have the tension of a samurai drawing his sword. Even if they're just two-dimensional figures, make them feel like every strike is visceral. With such a strong stylistic feel, as long as the game is well-made, it will definitely leave a very deep impression on the players."

He then turned to Uchida Makoto and added the final ironclad rule, "Although it's an RPG-style exploration game, at its core it must be a hardcore action game. Drawing your sword needs to be quick, sheathing it needs to be stylish, and blocking needs to produce the sparks of metal clashing. The very core of action games has always been the feel of the controls, understand?"

Uchida Makoto and the others nodded seriously. "Wait."

Uchida Makoto was about to push away the whiteboard covered in cryptic writing, Takuya's voice rang out again.

"Since we're going to do a 'Night Parade of One Hundred Demons,' the voice can't be weak and listless." Takuya leaned against the edge of the table, his fingers tapping in the air a few times, as if searching for a certain melody. "Go find Kaoru Wada."

"Kaoru Wada?" Uchida Makoto paused, his pen hovering in mid-air. "The one who composed the music for <Tekkaman Blade>?"

"That's right. He's a student of Akira Ifukube, and he's best at making orchestral music incredibly heavy." Takuya closed his eyes, as if he were already in Heian-kyo, filled with eerie atmosphere. "I want that feeling—a deep cello as a foundation, suddenly interrupted by a sharp shakuhachi, followed by a barrage of taiko drums. That oppressive, ancient, yet exhilaratingly intense melody that sends chills down your spine."

Rieko Kodama's eyes lit up. "Orchestral music mixed with folk instruments? This is just right! It's a perfect match with the ukiyo-e style."

"Not only that," Takuya said with a mischievous grin, his signature expression whenever he came up with a wicked idea, "Go ask Wada-san if he's interested in something even more exciting."

He paused, his gaze sweeping over everyone present. "In the final battle, when facing a mythical monster like Yamata no Orochi, give me an enka song as background music."

"Huh?" Uchida Makoto thought he'd misheard and rubbed his ears. "Enka? Executive Director, that's something only old men listen to, isn't it? Playing that during the climax of an action game, isn't that a bit too much—"

"Too weird?" Takuya retorted, then burst into laughter. "It has to be weird! We can have Wada-san make the music more intense. Imagine, in Rashomon Gate, where a torrential downpour is pouring down, eight snake heads blot out the sky, and the protagonist is covered in blood. At this moment, instead of some high-energy rock, there's a deep, weathered male voice, roaring with a trembling tone about the capriciousness of fate and the uncertainty of life and death. That sense of tragedy, that resolute determination of 'I will go even if there are thousands of people against me,' that passionate determination to break through life and death even at the cost of everything—isn't that more captivating than just simple beat-'em-up? He definitely has a way."

The meeting room was silent for a full five seconds.

Then came the scratching sound of the pen tip frantically scraping across the paper.

"This is insane—this is absolutely insane." Uchida Makoto muttered to himself as he frantically memorized the text, but his face had completely lost its previous dejection. His bull-like eyes were wide open, bloodshot with excitement. "Slaying demons while listening to enka—the imagery is incredible!"

"Write it down, you absolutely must write it down." Rieko Kodama slapped her notebook loudly. "If Mr. Wada refuses to accept it, I'll go to his house and wait for him until he agrees."

Looking at these guys who were just moments ago looking like wilted eggplants, but now practically begging to rush back to their workstations and roll up their sleeves to work through the night, Takuya waved his hand with satisfaction. "Alright, get back to work. Don't disappoint me."

"Yes!"

The group responded in unison, pushed the whiteboard, and rushed out of the office.

After seeing off Rieko Kodama and her group, Nakayama Takuya and his entourage, Takuya Nakayama's spacious office finally returned to silence.

The sunlight outside the window was perfect, casting a warm glow on the carpet.

Takuya stood up, stretched, and his joints cracked a few times.

He'd been mentally exhausted these past few days and was wondering if he should take a stroll around the various Development Department downstairs.

Just as my hand touched the doorknob, there was a rapid knocking from the outside.

The rhythm was so chaotic, it sounded like the drumbeats of a forced march.

Takuya raised an eyebrow and opened the door.

Standing outside the door was Tanaka from the Marketing Department.

7