"Yo, that's fire!" Zoey Parker, perched at the head of the WindyPeak Games conference table, let out a cheer and started clapping.
Gus Harper flinched. What's fire about it? The name Overwatch wasn't that lit, was it?
The room froze for half a second, then erupted in applause.
Clap, clap, clap—
"Solid, solid…"
"Nice one…"
"Gus is killing it…"
"…Wait, why are we clapping?"
Amid the noise, Jake Rivers looked baffled, whispering to Luke Bennett, who was grinning and clapping like a pro.
Luke kept his face straight, muttering without moving his lips, "Hell if I know. Zoey's clapping, so we clap. Boss claps, you join, dude."
"Oh—bet." Jake nodded, jumping in.
The room roared like Overwatch was already a banger. Zoey raised a hand, and silence dropped.
"Gus," she said, locking eyes, "I've got some thoughts on this project. Cool if I share?"
Gus blinked, thrown. Zoey, the queen of nodding along, had ideas? "Uh, yeah, go for it."
No-brainer. She's the president. What, she needs the VP's okay to pitch? Good thing it was just the crew here, or X would've roasted them.
Zoey grinned, flipping open her sticker-covered notebook. Flip, flip— She landed on a fresh page.
Gus raised an eyebrow. No way. Her notebook was packed with neat notes, like a high school study guide on steroids. Zoey beamed, radiating big-dick energy.
Check this out. She'd burned the midnight oil, digging into Garden Warfare's data—reviews, media takes, insider hot takes. Her slacker dream was alive, but first, she had to roll up.
Her secret? Her curse: the more she tried to tank a project, the bigger it popped off. Vampire Survivor's survival mode, Phasmophobia's no-weapon vibe—her "lose money" plays became killer features. Flip it, and her "make bank" plans flopped hard, like canned sequels.
Three years of proof: she was a reverse-engineering god. So, for Overwatch, she went full send—plan a hit to guarantee a miss.
If it tanked? Billions. 1018x rebate on a $10.03M loss deposit. Lifetime vibes secured.
Her face lit up with a smug grin. "I'll keep it quick. Not a pro, so, Gus, feel free to push back."
She shot him a look, eyes gleaming with sly pride. Sorry, Gus, you're getting thrown under the bus after this. I'm retiring to chill.
Clearing her throat, Zoey glanced at her notes. "First, the core shooting mode. Garden Warfare kept our second-gen FPS setup, but we went cartoony with the aiming. It's slick—our tuning's on point—but…" She paused. "Media and player feedback say fast-paced, small-map shooters with tons of guns and skills get clunky with second-gen FPS. Gus, you've called this out before. I say we ditch it for Overwatch, go back to first-gen FPS virtual crosshairs. Keeps the pace tight."
Whoa— The room buzzed quietly.
At first, the crew was half-listening, half-vibing out of respect. Zoey's meetings were rare, and she was the team's mascot—loved, but not a design guru. They figured Gus would handle the real stuff.
But damn. She nailed Garden Warfare's weak spot in seconds and pitched virtual crosshairs? Bold.
Hiss— Gasps rippled. Jace Yun flipped open his notebook, pen ready. Others followed, pages rustling. Golden Experience execs leaned in, locked on.
She's cooking. Zoey wasn't playing today—she came strapped.
Zoey nodded, loving the vibe. "As a Garden Warfare sequel, we fix the flaws but keep the wins. Like 'Push Cart' and 'Capture Point' modes. Stats and players love them—fresh takes on FPS. We keep those as Overwatch's core, but expand the map pool to cut repetition."
Rustle, rustle— Jace and the crew scribbled hard, soaking up every word.
Zoey kept going: "Third, visuals. Europe and the U.S. are wild with political correctness—skin color debates, beauty standards beef. Players hate it. Forcing 'correct' designs is discrimination dressed up. I say we stick to clean, crowd-pleasing aesthetics. No pandering."
Rustle, rustle— Even Sienna Tate's Steel Chain Fingers team started taking notes.
"Last, the big one," Zoey said, snapping her pen cap on. "Never teach players how to play. Ever."
Silence. Then—clap, clap, clap—
Gus led the applause, nodding like crazy. The room exploded.
Every word was gold. Execs stared at Zoey with straight-up awe. Mascot? Nah. She'd been low-key grinding, tracking projects, markets, everything.
Great wisdom looks like slacking. Kind, open, trusts her team, drops game-changers at clutch moments. Who wouldn't grind for a boss like that?
Zoey scratched her head, sheepish. Sorry, y'all. Her ideas sounded like a hit, but her curse guaranteed a flop. Deep breath. She muttered internally, Just this once. System's too juicy—1018x rebate? Even Dad would tank this.
She'd gone all-in: ditch second-gen FPS, keep fan-fave modes, stick to clean art, put players first. Looked like a cash cow, but for her? A loss magnet. Financial freedom was close.
"Gus, any tweaks?" she asked.
Gus shrugged. Zoey was on fire today, nailing every point he'd planned to raise—especially "never teach players how to play." That was huge.
He knew why Overwatch tanked in his past life. Blizzard Entertainment's arrogance—pushing players around—killed a 2016 masterpiece. Zoey just cut that sin off at the root.
No worries now. Gus could rebuild Overwatch's glory, maybe outshine it. "Looks solid," he said. "I'll bring the plan to the next meeting."
Ding! A crisp chime hit Zoey's mind:
Sub-project: Overwatch (unlocked)
Investment: $0
Settlement Time: ? days (+0 days)
Rebate Rate: 15x (+0x)
Current Revenue: $0
Expected Rebate: $0
Remaining Settlement Time: TBD
PS: Settlement time generates after locking.
Zoey pulled the Loss-Making Multiplier Coupon from her system. Ding! Purchase voucher activated! Select rebate rate. Note: Locked rates can't be changed.
She took a deep breath. Retirement was right there. A random tune popped into her head—she shook it off. Focus.
Zoey Parker, slacker queen, lived by one word: reckless. Always had, always would. Life's too short not to bet big.
Ding! Voucher used!
Consumption: $10.03M
Multiplier Increased: 1003x
Project Rebate Multiplier: 15x (+0x) → 15x (+1003x)