Game’s Dogma

​​​​​​​Drako Yau slowly paced around the room.

There were several tens of holographic projectors inside. The image they were displaying was none other than their stillborn online game—Real World. Looking at the holograms, basically everything, be it the map or game system, was identical to the Real World that was currently taking the world by storm. But this map was created entirely from the efforts of the game designers who worked for Jubilant Games.

If the brainwave technology had not showed up, their ‘Real World’ would undoubtedly have become the leading online game in the world.

But…

There were no buts. There was no such thing as ‘If only I’ve known’ either.

The teen plucked out his phone and saved a backup of the entire ‘Real World’ onto the tiny device. No one would bother to look at the supposedly confidential game information anyways.

Because the next day, when the elder took over the company, he would probably wipe every last bit of data that belonged to this obsolete version of Real World.

Behind him came the sounds of doors opening, and his team of game designers entered the room. The staff, especially the younger ones, could no longer hold back their tears as they each gave the young ex-chairman a hug.

Drako Yau, he was a genius who graduated from the Faculty of Programming and Game Design of the world’s most reputable university. Back when he had graduated, he was five years younger than his classmates because he had entered the university as the genius grade-skipper.

His first ever production after graduation was none other than ‘Real World’.

Drako Yau left the company and returned to his almost airtight dwelling. Apart from the nylon bed and ancient television, there were only snacks and ready-to-eat meal packages scattered around the room.

This was the last property he owned, and it was also the first property his father, Proudsky Yau, had bought. Before Jubilant Games took off, his father had built the company from scratch in this room.

Drako Yau had no problems adjusting from his previous luxurious lifestyle to a frugal one. Not caring at all about the expensive suit he was wearing, he threw himself onto the nylon bed. His mind was occupied with but a single question: Who betrayed me?

It was impossible to plagiarise every tiny detail of Real World, because it all originated from a dream he had back when he was a kid. The game world he had created, it had existed in his mind ever since he could retain his memories as a child.

As such, it was impossible for the whole ordeal to be a mere coincidence. The only possibility was that there was a mole in the team who sold the game data.

But even that possibility didn’t really make sense. Disregarding the fact that the game designers were all trustworthy people handpicked by Drako Yau himself, there was simply no need for the other company to copy his game. With how well-developed their brainwave technology was, literally any game they made would have been successful.

As he pondered about it, he slowly drifted into slumber.

The next time Drako Yau opened his eyes, it was already the other morning. Taking off the tidy suit that had restrained him for so long, he changed into a comfortable set of sportswear.

‘This feels a lot better’, he murmured just as a notification rang from his phone.

Unlike phones in the past, their modern counterparts had loads of functions integrated into them. It could be said that they were not only phones, but also wallets, laptops, and flash drives, not to mention their many other functions.

His phone projected a text hologram that notified him of the enormous sum transferred to his account. Looking at the line of zeroes, he thought for a while, then made a call.

‘Yes. I’d like to order a game pod for Real World. Yes, the best one you have. Have it delivered to the First Eastern City…’

Drako Yau thought of the different choices he had, and in the end, he came to the realisation that the simplest way to understand everything was to personally enter the game.

He had the hunch that by entering the game, he would learn of the truth of what had really happened. Still, the current Drako Yau had no idea how much he would come to regret this decision.

It took no time for this game pod of the highest tier to arrive. The order, having only been placed in the morning, had already arrived just before evening.

Drako Yau sent the delivery man away and checked his bank account; a mere six-digit sum had been deducted from his account. Not caring about it in the slightest, he was already busy reading the palm-sized electronic manual while inspecting the game pod.

Apart from the brainwave helmet which was the most crucial part of the set, the game pod also held nutritional supplements that could sustain a person for up to ten days. With the proper wiring and setup, people could even directly excrete within the pod, as well as utilise its massage functions to prevent their muscles from deteriorating due to long-term inactivity.

Simply put, it was a piece of technology that stood at the apex of the gaming industry. Drako Yau couldn’t help but become amazed at how stunning this game pod was.

He was no ordinary person—he was a genius who had skipped grades to enter the best university there was. It was only natural that he could tell that the game pod was a combination of various different technology, and it was by no means something that could be developed in just a year or two.

The more he thought about it, the more it hurt his head. The game pod was like a riddle, confusing him the longer he looked at it.

He shook his head, seemingly wanting to dissipate the troubling thoughts in his mind.

There’s no point thinking about it.

Drako Yau then went to take a shower before returning to the game pod naked. His entire body consisted of firm muscles, without the slightest bit of excess fat. It was hard to imagine that a genius student and game designer could perfect his body to such an extent.

He placed his phone into a groove on the game pod. The groove immediately lit up and gave off a dim, blue glow while it scanned and synced the data in his phone.

The great thing about this game was that it could connect to people’s phones.

In the game, there was also a ‘phone’ item. It was directly synced with the actual phone connected to the pod so people wouldn’t miss important calls even while playing. Outside of the game, people could also use their phones to perform actions that did not require movements, such as trading, auctioning, and enhancing their equipment.

Drako Yau lay into the game pod, the chilly sensation of metal stimulating his skin. He quickly pressed a few buttons within the pod.

As the pneumatic cover closed with a hissing sound, the game pod sealed itself, turning the interior pitch-black. Given that there were ventilation devices installed, Drako Yau was not at all afraid that he might suffocate to death.

Upon closing the cover, four tiny holes located near his palms and soles spewed out a viscous liquid. It was probably the nutritional supplement which could sustain him for ten days. The sticky feeling though, it felt really uncomfortable.

‘Well, at least it’s not so cold now’, Drako Yau chuckled while his finger was stuck above a green button, one which he hesitated to press.

By the time the nutritional fluid reached his neck, the holes finally stopped spewing out the yucky liquid. Yet, his finger was still hovering above the ‘Start’ button. His subconsciousness was greatly bothered by something, but rancour kept surging out from the depths of his heart.

As a genius, he had the right to be proud of himself.

However, it was exactly because he was a genius that he felt such a strong sense of defeat. Right before his game which would have brought him into the spotlight could be published, a practically identical game crushed his dreams. It was supposed to be the fruit of all the days and nights that he and his team of game developers had spent on developing the game!

Drako Yau gritted his teeth. ‘Screw this!’

He forcefully slammed the button.