A moment later, Giri fastened his satchel across his shoulder and stepped out of his apartment. He felt no urge to change his outfit; after all, anime characters rarely switch up their clothing, an unspoken guideline of the genre. Giri occasionally joked to himself, "Gotta keep the character design consistent."
The elevator doors parted with a soft chime on the 8th floor - Game Evolution. Giri caught his reflection in the polished metal interior. His early-thirties face stared back, short black hair pulled into a small ponytail that somewhat softened his square, stern jaw. He adjusted his glasses, noting the scruff on his chin from skipping his morning shave.
Same old me, he thought. Consistent character design indeed.
He swiped his keycard through the reader, and the glass doors whooshed open. The familiar buzz of the development floor greeted him - clicking keyboards, murmured conversations about frame rates and polygon counts, the occasional frustrated groan at a stubborn bug.
The sprawling studio hummed with life. Programmers, testers, designers, and artists packed the open space, their work accompanied by laughter, and occasional cheers of triumph over conquered bugs and design puzzles.
Making his way to his desk, Giri passed rows of monitors displaying wireframes and code. His workspace stood out - a lineup of figurines beneath his monitor, from elegant maid to stern shrine maiden, next to a thermos decorated with pixelated sprites from his favorite retro game.
Kenji's head popped up from behind a monitor as Giri approached. "Hey, did you check the logs from last night?"
"Not yet." Giri sighed, dropping his satchel beside his desk. "Let me guess: they're a mess?"
"Let's just say the server decided to pull an all-nighter too. Crashed around 2 AM. Logs are a goldmine of chaos."
From the next desk over, Hane looked up, adjusting her glasses with a slight frown. "I flagged the major errors," she said in her characteristic measured tone. "It's mostly memory allocation issues. Nothing we haven't seen before, but still... tedious."
"Thanks, Hane. I'll tackle it after the meeting." Giri slumped into his chair, the coffee stain on his sleeve now a cold reminder of his earlier mishap.
"If they're really pushing the tech, why's there no tech to help us with this tedious work?" Kenji spun in his chair, arms crossed behind his head.
"Well, because if there is, it's still us who will program it." Hane's deadpan delivery hit the mark.
The three burst into laughter, their voices joining the ambient hum of keyboards and mouse clicks. The irony wasn't lost on any of them - programmers stuck programming tools to help themselves program.
Their moment of shared mirth broke as quick footsteps approached. A young woman from the Office Assistant department weaved through the maze of desks, dodging developers hunched over their morning coffee and half-eaten breakfast. Her presence drew curious glances - most weren't prepared for an early meeting —Aiko—written in her nametag.
"Excuse me," she paused at Giri's desk, "the meeting's about to begin. Yuki is waiting for everyone in the conference room."
The summoned team members rose from their stations. Giri watched as Kenji stretched, while Hane gathered her tablet. The QA duo - always joined at the hip - walked in sync. The two from Game Design carried their notebooks, while the Artist team members tucked their styluses behind their ears.
They filed into the conference room, a space that barely fit their small group. Through the glass walls, Giri noticed the rest of the floor watching them with undisguised interest, some even pressing their faces against the glass like kids at an aquarium.
The conference room's fluorescent lights cast harsh shadows across the faces around the table. Giri settled into his chair, the faux leather squeaking beneath him. The room felt smaller with everyone packed inside, their casual developer attire - hoodies, graphic tees, and well-worn jeans - a sharp contrast to what came next.
Yuki entered, flanked by two men who looked like they'd stepped out of a corporate catalog. Their black suits pressed crisp, ties perfectly centered, shoes gleaming under the lights.
"Alright, everyone, I'd like to introduce members of SolarTech's Tech Department, here from Kaito to present new advancements," Yuki announced.
The names Ito and Kusawa floated past Giri's ears during the introductions. He focused instead on their appearance - both sporting perfectly combed silver hair, faces etched with years of boardroom battles and corporate climbing. Their posture spoke of countless presentations, each movement calculated and precise.
Mr. Ito stepped forward, his height amplified by his ramrod-straight posture. In his hands, he held what looked like something from a sci-fi movie - a VR headset that gleamed under the fluorescent lights.
"This," Ito's voice carried the weight of authority, "is the culmination of years of research: our new VR headgear. Lightweight, immersive, and with unparalleled fidelity."
The headset passed from person to person, each developer examining it with varying degrees of curiosity. When it reached Giri's hands, he noticed it wasn't just a simple headset - it was more like a helmet. The back featured studded protrusions that extended down to the neck area. Multiple laser readers lined the neck portion, their purpose clear to Giri's experienced eye - cortex signal readers, designed to pick up neural impulses.
The projector hummed to life as Mr. Ito clicked his remote. The screen flickered, revealing an image that made Giri's breath catch.
"This is our prototype Sensory Immersion Pod. Sight, sound, touch—even scent and taste to some degree—are engaged for full immersion."
The pod resembled a dentist's chair, but with sleek indentations that followed human body contours. Cables snaked from its back like mechanical tentacles. Giri's mind raced with possibilities—and complications.
Kenji caught his eye, mouthing the words "Smell programming" with a mix of awe and horror. Giri suppressed a smile. They'd joked about "scratch and sniff gaming" before, but this made it real.
Yuki stepped forward after the slideshow ended. "Due to the additional workload, we're forming a new 'Virtual Asset Team' focused on sensory elements—haptic feedback, scent simulation, and more."
Mr. Kusawa took over, diving into technical specifications and roadmaps that made Giri's fingers itch to start coding. The complexity would be astronomical, but the potential...
"The headgears are ready with the Hardware Team on the fifth floor," Yuki said. "The Pod is in transit and will arrive in a few days. I'll email everyone the meeting summary. Direct your questions through that channel."
Yuki turned his attention to Giri. "Giri," he said, his voice dropping slightly, becoming more confidential. "Could you stay for a moment? There's something I'd like to discuss with you."
Kenji and Hane shot him curious looks as they filed out with the others. Giri caught their questioning glances, but could only shrug in response.
The room emptied slowly, voices fading into the hallway. Yuki remained silent, waiting until the last person left before speaking.
The conference room felt different with just the two of them. Giri watched Yuki's perfect posture, his well-pressed suit, and that perpetual smile that never quite reached his eyes.
"I'd like to give you a special... opportunity," Yuki said, placing his hands flat on the table.
Giri's stomach twisted. The word 'opportunity' from Yuki's mouth brought back memories of Shizuka's face when she got her 'opportunity' - that forced smile as she packed her desk, her trembling hands as she handed over her project files. This man, with his corporate smile and measured words, had been slowly reshaping their game piece by piece, stripping away its soul under the guise of 'market optimization.'
"I'm listening," Giri kept his voice neutral, fingers unconsciously tightening around his pen.
"I want you to be the first to test the new VR headgear... and the Sensory Immersion Pod."
Giri's eyebrows shot up. "But you just said it still in transit?"
Yuki leaned forward, lowering his voice. "Well that's for... confidentiality, the pod is here, in the prototype room. The higher ups doesn't want anyone to know yet, except for a few... need to know persons."
The pause between his words felt calculated, like carefully placed landmines in a conversation. Giri had seen this before - the way Yuki crafted his sentences, each word chosen to guide people exactly where he wanted them.
His mind raced back to Shizuka's warning before she left: "Be careful of the opportunities they offer. They're not gifts - they're hooks."
Giri studied Yuki's face, searching for the hidden meanings beneath his carefully chosen words. The conference room's fluorescent lights cast harsh shadows across Yuki's features, making his expression harder to read.
"Why the secrecy?" Giri asked. "Won't the whole team need to work with it eventually?"
Yuki's fingers drummed once on the table before he clasped his hands together. "Of course they will. But you must understand - this represents years of technological advancement. It's not just about changing your game, Giri. This will revolutionize the entire industry."
He leaned forward, his voice dropping lower. "One small slip-up could cost us a fortune. The kind of price no one can afford to pay."
The weight in Yuki's words hung heavy in the air. "I'm counting on your discretion here. There will be... significant consequences if we fail to maintain confidentiality."
Yuki's eyes fixed on Giri, his corporate smile softening slightly. "And given how your vision consistently exceeds everyone else's here, I need your firsthand feedback on this technology."
Giri sat back, letting the implications sink in. The logic tracked - new tech needed thorough testing before wider implementation. Secret prototypes weren't unusual in the industry. And if this technology was as groundbreaking as Yuki claimed...
"Yeah," Giri nodded slowly. "That makes sense."
"Where exactly is this prototype room?" Giri asked, recalling whispered rumors during lunch breaks about a secret testing facility somewhere in the building.
Yuki reached into his suit pocket and pulled out a sleek black keycard. "B2, through the equipment elevator." He slid the card across the table. "You'll need this for access."
Giri picked up the keycard, its surface smooth and cool against his fingers. He nodded. "Thank you."
"When can you start the testing?"
"Not today," Giri said, pocketing the card. "I have a visit scheduled with my mother. My sister Hanna called last night to excuse herself, so it's just me today."
Yuki's smile didn't waver. If anything, it grew warmer. "Of course, family comes first. The pod will be waiting." He stood up, straightening his jacket. "But remember, Giri - this is top secret. No one can know about this. Not even your team."
Giri stepped out of the conference room, the door clicking shut behind him. Back on the Game Evolution floor, he made his way to his workstation, feeling the weight of eyes following his every move.
Kenji and Hane weren't even trying to hide their curiosity. Other programmers, both junior and senior, peered over their monitors. Their gazes stuck to him like glue, hungry for information about what transpired behind those closed doors.
The black keycard felt heavy in his pocket, a secret burning against his thigh.
Kenji wheeled his chair over before Giri could even sit down. "So? What was that about?" His eyes sparkled with curiosity.
Giri shrugged, settling into his chair. "Just the usual. Yuki and I butting heads over game design again."
"The dynamic environmental PvP system?" A voice piped up from two desks over.
"Yeah, that one." Giri seized the opening. "Unless I can somehow squeeze loot boxes into it, it's probably not happening."
Collective groans rippled through the office.
"Of course," someone muttered. "Heaven forbid we make something that doesn't scream monetization."
"Wouldn't be SolarTech if they didn't," another chimed in.
The conversation bounced around the team until Hane spoke up, her voice carrying a sharp edge. "Let's just hope the new team doesn't steal our work. Next thing you know, they'll 'optimize' us too."
"It won't come to that," Giri said, though the words felt hollow even to him.
Kenji's eyes lit up, practically bouncing in his chair. "But... VR with smell? And touch? That's insane! I can't believe it's actually happening!"
"Imagine..." Kenji's hands gestured wildly. "feeling the wind on your face as you fly on a dragon... smelling the flowers in the elven forests... or..." He paused, a dreamy look crossing his face. "Elf forests! Imagine the elf details! The elf lore! The elf... everything!"
Giri watched Kenji's enthusiasm, noting how many times the word 'elf' appeared in his rambling. He could only imagine what possibilities were running through Kenji's mind - and knowing Kenji's particular fascination with elven characters, those possibilities probably weren't all strictly game-related.
"We'll need to completely rework the UI," Hane cut through Kenji's elf-filled daydreams, her fingers already tapping away at her tablet. "Standard HUD elements won't translate well to VR space."
"The world map too," someone called from across the desk.
Giri pinched the bridge of his nose. "Plus we need new scripts to differentiate between UI interaction and world object interaction."
A collective groan rippled through the development floor. The scope of work ahead loomed over them like a mountain of code waiting to avalanche.
"But the magic system should be fine, right?" Kenji perked up. "That's already pretty modular."
Giri's eyes lit up. This was his favorite part of the game - the magic system he'd poured countless hours into designing.
"Actually," he leaned forward in his chair, "the VR might make our magic system even better."
Kenji and Hane drew closer, recognizing the spark in Giri's eyes.
"Think of our seven spirits as processors," Giri's hands moved as he spoke, sketching invisible diagrams in the air. "Each one oversees an element - Fire, Water, Air, Earth, Light, Dark, and Chaos. They're not just fancy magic labels - they're processing units for different physical phenomena."
"Take a simple fire spell," Giri grabbed a sticky note, quickly sketching. "To players, fire just appears. But in the lore, the Fire Spirit receives the command, consumes mana, and accelerates particles until combustion occurs. It's not magic - it's physics."
Kenji nodded eagerly. "Like when you want to throw a fireball?"
"Exactly!" Giri pointed at him. "You evoke the Air Spirit to push that fire forward. Want a flame tornado? Add the Chaos Spirit to the mix. With VR, players won't just see these effects - they'll feel the heat of the fire, the chill of ice, even the lightness in their body when they cast pseudo-flying spells."
Hane's eyes narrowed behind her glasses. "But there's a catch, isn't there?"
"The mana multiplier," Giri confirmed. "The more spirits involved in a spell, the higher the mana cost multiplies. It forces players to think strategically about their spell combinations."
The team leaned in, captivated by the possibilities. The magic system had always been Giri's pride - a perfect blend of fantasy and scientific principles. Now, with VR's sensory feedback, players would experience the subtle complexities he'd woven into every spell.
"And if someone runs out of mana?" Hane asked, her brow furrowed.
"That's what I'm worried about," Giri leaned back in his chair. "With the new sensory feedback... should we simulate physical exhaustion? Make them feel drained like after a workout?"
"You mean like muscle burn?" Kenji flexed his arm dramatically.
"Exactly. It would be realistic, but..." Giri's voice trailed off, his concern evident. "What about potential health issues? Dizziness, nausea..."
"Sounds like a lawsuit waiting to happen," someone called out from behind their monitor.
The development floor fell silent, the hum of computers suddenly more noticeable. Legal complications weren't something any of them wanted to deal with.
Kenji's chair squeaked as he spun around, breaking the tension. "Oh! Oh! What if we combine the magic system with the new AI?" His eyes lit up with that familiar elven-obsessed gleam. "Picture this - you meet this random elf NPC, right? Seems totally ordinary. But then you can recruit them, teach them spell crafting..."
He was practically bouncing in his seat now. "They become this powerful follower! And not just one - imagine a whole party of elves, learning your magic, becoming this unstoppable team-"
"Of elves," Hane finished for him, rolling her eyes.
Kenji's eyes glazed over, his mind clearly wandering into some elven paradise only he could see. His fingers twitched, probably imagining spell combinations with his fictional followers.
"And they'll remember everything!" He continued, oblivious to Hane's sarcasm. "Every conversation, every shared battle, every magical… lesson" His voice trailed off as he sank deeper into his fantasy world.
Hane's brow furrowed, her attention shifting from Kenji's daydreaming to a more practical concern. "Speaking of memory - how are we handling the narrative branches? With this level of AI interaction, won't it spiral out of control?"
"SolarTech says their AI can handle dynamic dialogue generation," she continued, tapping her pen against her tablet. "Claims it can adapt to player choices, even learn and evolve. But that sounds too good to be true."
Giri leaned forward in his chair. "We're working closely with the game designers on that. Think of it like a web instead of a tree - each player action sends ripples through the world, creating interconnected consequences rather than straight branches."
"But the data requirements..." Hane's eyes narrowed. "Tracking all those choices and consequences - it's a logistical nightmare waiting to happen."
"That's where the AI comes in," Giri said, spreading his hands. "It's supposed to handle the heavy lifting - generating responses, adjusting world states based on player actions. But..." He shrugged. "It's still a black box. We're still figuring out what it can really do."
Giri cleared his throat, pulling himself back to reality. "Alright everyone, back to work. These features won't code themselves."
A collective sigh rippled through the office as the weight of their tasks settled back in. Monitors flickered to life, keyboards clicked, and the familiar rhythm of development resumed.
Kenji wheeled back to his desk, but his fingers paused over the keyboard. "Just imagine... procedurally generated elf hairstyles." His voice carried that dreamy quality again.
Giri shook his head, though he couldn't suppress his own smile. The same excitement bubbled in his chest - One day, players would appreciate the attention to detail in those elven features, and Kenji's dedication would pay off.
[Sometimes later]
The morning passed in a blur of code and debugging. As the clock struck eleven, Giri pushed back from his desk, stretching his arms overhead. His mother's visiting hours would start soon.
He looked around the office, pride swelling in his chest. Hane was teaching a junior developer about UI optimization. Kenji had three monitors full of character models, probably all elves. Even the newest team members were finding their groove.
This was how it should be. His philosophy had always been clear - build up your team, make them strong. Not to dodge work, but to create a support system that could handle anything. Like his family had taught him, no one could carry life's burdens alone. Only by standing together could they weather whatever storms came their way.