IndieVibe's platform just rolled out a new set of exclusive WindyPeak stickers called "Lotus-Style Stickers," crafted by Yuki, lead art director for WindyPeak's Steel Chain Finger studio. They feature a chibi character with twin buns, rocking cute and hilarious expressions.
Players went wild for them, flooding IndieVibe's comment sections with the stickers:
"I'm a genius! (Lotus-style starry eyes)"
"Craziest game of the year. The moment I launched my head as Kernel Corn, I knew I picked a winner."
"Checking the designer's sanity (Lotus-style petrified)"
"Too addictive. I spent all night dreaming about pushing that cart…"
"Spill the beans on cart-pushing! (Lotus-style mischievous)"
"Point capture's a riot. It's raw, intense, and pulls you into the fight with barely any effort."
"Certified skin-friendly! (Lotus-style confident)"
"Newbies, dive into cart-pushing mode. The moving battlefield makes fights intense, giving you a real taste of desperate, hard-won battles."
"Heads-up to plants and zombies: If the cart's not moving in payload mode, enemies are nearby, not a glitch. No need to push it yourself…"
"(Lotus-style shocked) When you see a wild warning, something even wilder went down before."
"Who cooked up that 6-Tank cart-pushing lineup? Are you even human? (Lotus-style angry)"
Zoey Parker stared at her phone, scrolling through rave reviews and her chibi stickers, then glanced at her computer: "153,500 total sales in 24 hours."
Her expression mirrored the "Lotus-style speechless" sticker.
No way.
150,000 copies in a single day!
At $9.30 per copy for Garden Warfare, with a $5.43 million production cost, they'd need $6.8 million to break even—roughly 731,000 copies in a week. With 153,500 sold on day one, they could hit 1.07 million copies in a week if the momentum held. Even conservatively, 700,000 was a sure thing.
My money! Zoey groaned inwardly.
This wasn't even a flagship title. WindyPeak's team cranked it out in just over two months with no endorsements, no marketing, and a surprise launch. And it still sold 150,000 copies on day one!
Maybe she'd underestimated the Plants vs. Zombies IP's pull. But her system demanded losses on sequels for max rebates. Pinning hopes on Sekiro would make losing money even harder.
"Seven bucks, seven bucks," Zoey muttered, slumping over her desk, clutching her lucky $7 bill, kept as a good-luck charm in her office. "When are we gonna lose big?"
She sighed, picturing a bleak future.
Meanwhile, across the ocean in Japan, Tatsuya Moritani squirmed in a Komina conference room, feeling the same dread.
Next month, registration for the Tokyo International Game Festival kicks off. For Komina, attending is a given—they never skip it. Today's meeting, led by President Tadanori Kaminori, brought together Komina execs and directors from their three top studios to plan the festival's initial promo push.
It was business as usual, nothing too spicy. Per tradition, promotion ramps up from small to big. A wave of small and mid-sized games leads to build buzz with variety, followed by the three top studios' titles, rolled out weekly. The core blockbuster drops last, just before the festival's manufacturer stats deadline, keeping the hype steady and avoiding a lull.
The plan came together quick. Small games were set to start. In week two, Nishikawa Studio's Wild Dunk EX would take the lead with trailers and gameplay demos, kicking off the top studios' showcase. Week three, Takasugi Studio's Hot Rally: Return, a racing game perfect for VR cockpits, would keep the fire going. The grand finale? Komina's 3S-class FPS blockbuster, Torii: Ghostly Mirage, led by Kazuo Koizumi with a $200 million budget—their ace to turn the tide at the festival.
No one batted an eye. It was Komina's playbook—small to big, weak to strong. Solid logic.
Except for Tatsuya Moritani.
This order's wrong, he thought.
Sure, it looked fine based on past patterns and current vibes. But WindyPeak was watching, ready to pounce. Why drop Garden Warfare? To stack cash, hit mid-tier status, and crash the festival with Sekiro. With Garden Warfare's sales, they'd hit their profit goal in about half a month—right when Hot Rally: Return's trailer drops, just before Torii: Ghostly Mirage.
Tatsuya shifted, uneasy. He knew Sekiro's design inside-out—Gus Harper had been upfront about it. The deeper he understood, the scarier it seemed. If Sekiro got a head start on promotion, it could spell disaster for Torii.
But he couldn't say a word. Loyalty tied his tongue. Betraying Gus's trust wasn't an option.
This open scheme was torture. Like a warrior caught between honor and duty, he felt stuck, humming softly to himself: A rival's strength, a hero's code… I can't betray, but the storm's coming.
He didn't blame Gus—his openness only showed his grit. But the feeling was rough.
Unable to take it, Tatsuya excused himself to the restroom, smoked a cigarette, and tried to clear his head. Out of sight, out of mind, he figured.
But when he returned, a worse plan was taking shape.
"First-day sales of 150,000 copies—pretty good," Tadanori Kaminori said in the conference room, his tone carrying a hidden edge.
The festival promo plan was locked in, and talk shifted to Garden Warfare's launch. Kazuo Koizumi, head of Koizumi Studio, smirked. "Flagship-level sales, sure. But the game's quality? Not quite flagship material."
"Oh?" Kaminori leaned in, intrigued. "Tell me more."
Tatsuya's stomach sank.
He'd seen this coming. With WindyPeak pouring their energy into Sekiro, Garden Warfare was a side hustle—decent but not elite. Its rushed budget and timeline showed. Once it launched, it was bound to raise suspicions at Komina.
If anyone saw WindyPeak as a serious rival, they'd be cautious, even without knowing Garden Warfare's purpose. Good, Tatsuya thought. They'll take precautions without me spilling secrets.
But Koizumi kept going. "This is WindyPeak's turning point—they're getting lazy and heading downhill."
Tatsuya nearly choked. What?! Koizumi was picking the worst possible take.
"I played it yesterday," Koizumi said. "The shooting's okay, with some minor tweaks to the format. But compared to Left 4 Dead's FPS revolution, Titanfall's level design masterpiece, Apex Legends' skill-shooting blend, or PUBG's battle royale breakthrough, Garden Warfare is forgettable. Long progression, cartoony art, repetitive matches—it's no masterpiece. Yet it's their big follow-up to A Way Out. WindyPeak always avoided spin-offs, but now they're banking on one as a flagship."
He sipped water. "The media's been saying their creative well's dry. PUBG sold 600,000 copies in a week with less fame, no IP like Plants vs. Zombies, and a higher price. Garden Warfare's 150,000 first-day sales aren't impressive. It's a sign they're coasting on old hits, churning out spin-offs. The industry's seen this before—devs shine bright, then fade fast."
Tatsuya froze at Koizumi's last jab: the industry's pattern of fleeting stars. It stung.
From an outsider's view, Koizumi had a point. Garden Warfare's flaws—long unlocks, cartoonish style, repetitive gameplay—paled against WindyPeak's past hits. It looked like their spark was fading. A Way Out seemed like their last big moment, and Garden Warfare the start of a slide.
But Koizumi missed the mark. Garden Warfare was never their flagship; it was a cash grab to fund Sekiro. He didn't see WindyPeak as a festival threat, blinded by their smaller size. To him, WindyPeak was a one-hit wonder, not a global rival like Komina.
Kaminori turned to Tatsuya. "Moriya-san, what's your take? Is this subpar blockbuster WindyPeak's downfall?"
Tatsuya blinked, caught off guard. "Uh… I haven't played it, President. Can't really judge. Koizumi-san's a seasoned producer; his take's probably solid."
He shut down. Sekiro was coming, and no analysis would change that. Let them think WindyPeak was slipping—when the festival hit, they'd face the real blockbuster.
But Kaminori chuckled. "Then let's give them a nudge downhill. They climbed fast; they can fall faster."
Tatsuya's jaw dropped. What?!
Kaminori's eyes glinted with malice. He loathed Gus Harper. Years ago, WindyPeak's upset win—think a small team toppling a giant—humiliated Komina. Fans raged, forums exploded with "Kaminori, resign!" The sting lingered, all thanks to Gus.
Now, with Koizumi's analysis and no pushback from Tatsuya, Kaminori saw his shot to bury WindyPeak. "Koizumi-san," he said.
"Yes, President?" Koizumi nodded.
"There's a saying: 'The higher you fly…'" Kaminori paused.
Koizumi grinned. "The harder you fall. Especially from grace—it's a brutal crash, maybe even shattering."
"Exactly," Kaminori said, feigning a lightbulb moment. "A warning for us to stay sharp. Thoughts?"
"Wise words, President!" Koizumi bowed. "We'll have a cautionary tale soon enough."
Tatsuya's heart sank. No, no, no! Kaminori was planning to manipulate public opinion, painting Garden Warfare as Gus's fall to tank its sales.
This was a disaster. Garden Warfare had real flaws, and Koizumi knew them. This attack would slow its sales, delaying WindyPeak's mid-tier status and Sekiro's announcement—pushing it right into Torii: Ghostly Mirage's launch window.
A 3A-class clash, both over $100 million, just like WindyPeak's past horror upset over Komina. Tatsuya felt sick, clutching his forehead.
Kaminori glanced at him. "Moriya-san, you okay?"
"Dizzy," Tatsuya muttered. "Need air, President."
"No need," Kaminori waved. "Koizumi-san, my office later. Meeting's done—dismissed!"
At WindyPeak's Seattle office, the conference room cleared out. Gus Harper and Zoey Parker lingered. Seeing Gus's furrowed brow, Zoey asked, "What's wrong?"
"Someone's messing with us," Gus said, stepping into his office with her. He handed her his phone.
Zoey's face froze at the IndieVibe comment section for Garden Warfare:
"(Negative) Repetitive combat, mentally draining."
"(Neutral) Fun at first, but boring after a few matches. Unlock system's a slog."
"(Negative) From another dev, it'd be fine, but for WindyPeak? No originality."
"(Negative) Okay overall, but not fun. Environments are rough."
"(Neutral) When a no-spin-off studio makes one, it's a sign they're slipping."
"(Negative) Looks quirky, but it's cheap laughs. Not fun."
In four days, Garden Warfare's reviews dropped from 98% Overwhelmingly Positive to 69% Mixed.
Zoey was stunned. She'd assumed the first-day sales meant another hit and hadn't checked since.
"Search the news," Gus said.
Headlines flooded her screen:
Fall from Grace! WindyPeak's New Game Gets 'Mixed' Reviews First Time Ever!
Sequels Spell Doom! Has WindyPeak's Star Faded?
Built and Broken by PVZ! WindyPeak's Downward Turn Begins!
A Way Out Was the Last Spark! WindyPeak's Three-Year Run Ends!
Gus Harper's Fall! WindyPeak's Shine Fades with Mixed Reviews!
Zoey's face flushed, teeth clenched.
Gus waved a hand. "Hey, don't get too mad…"
Hahaha! Zoey laughed inwardly. Justice! Someone was tanking their side project, and she was thrilled. Who's got time to mess with plants and zombies? This is perfect!
"Is it Nebula Games?" Zoey asked, thinking of their rival.
Gus shook his head. "Nope. A Way Out gave them a win; they're cozying up to us now. It's probably Komina, out for revenge, trying to kneecap Garden Warfare's sales."
"So…" Zoey's eyes lit up. "Our sales?"
"Taking a hit," Gus nodded. "Checked before the meeting—under 500,000 copies in 4.5 days."
He sighed. "I wanted to recover our $5.43 million fast, hit mid-tier status, and drop Sekiro's trailer early. We can't predict Komina's 3S blockbuster announcement, so we aimed to beat them to the punch. Now, we're delayed a week. Sekiro's reveal will be just before the festival registration deadline. We might not clash with Komina's big gun."
Zoey pinched her thigh to hide her grin. Yes! A week's delay on their $2.86 million return was music to her ears. Under 500,000 copies sold? Perfect.
"Oh… got it," she said, grabbing her lucky $7 bill and rubbing it. Good days are coming!
Komina's attack was weak—calling Gus's work a "fall from grace" barely stung. It wouldn't stop their festival plans, just slowed their cash flow, earning her a rebate. The only downside? A slight hiccup in Gus's ambush plan. No big deal.
Zoey's gloom lifted. She stood, ruffled Gus's hair, and handed him a lollipop. "Don't sweat it. Good things take time. The more they say you've fallen, the sweeter the comeback."
"Haven't you read any novels?" she teased, popping a lollipop in her mouth. "It's classic underdog stuff. Trust me."
"Really?" Gus's eyes sparked with resolve. He stood, ready to bolt.
"Hey!" Zoey called. "Where you going?"
Gus made a chopping motion. "To practice my comeback! I'm gonna slap Komina's face!"
"No, wait!" Zoey chased after him. "Don't actually hit anyone—that's illegal!"