In 2015's Gamestar Carnival, around seven to eight first-party titles currently in development by Gamestar Electronic Entertainment were revealed.
The game with the longest development cycle was GTA: Chapter of Liberty City, which still didn't even have a release date.
The rest of the titles, though perhaps not massive in scale, were all slated for release either this year or by mid-next year.
As the global video game audience continued to grow, the scale of Gamestar Carnival also expanded year after year. Now, even two convention halls were no longer enough to meet the demand of attendees.
Takayuki had already started thinking about relocating the event to the first phase of Gamestar Land, which was set to open in 2016.
He planned to build a stadium-like arena there, similar in size to a football field.
But it wouldn't be for traditional sports. It would be an esports coliseum, entirely designed in the style of video games—a venue unlike any conventional stadium, and Takayuki was extremely excited to see it completed.
This year's most anticipated game was Pokémon.
Despite being released annually, player enthusiasm never waned.
...
...
While it hadn't yet reached the level of a top global IP, Pokémon merchandise and game sales still raked in massive profits.
Several major U.S. entertainment conglomerates were openly jealous of the Pokémon brand, and many began planning franchise models of their own to see if they could ride the wave of its popularity.
The second-most anticipated title at the Carnival was GTA.
Naturally, Takayuki also maintained his tradition of showing a preview trailer for Cyberpunk 2077.
Once again, the trailer contained no dialogue or text, only footage of a futuristic, neon-lit cyberpunk city and a few stylized CG shootouts.
At the end, the presenter would reiterate: "This is a tech demo for Unreal Engine 5.0, showcasing how realistic a sci-fi city can look using the new engine."
Even so, players were captivated by the world shown.
Discussions soon appeared on forums:
"If a real cyberpunk game like this existed, would you be interested?"
"Absolutely!"
"That setting is insanely cool—just how I imagine the future!"
Some players even begged Gamestar to turn it into a real game.
"Even if it's a bit rough, I'd still want to explore that world on my own."
But Gamestar Electronic Entertainment remained silent, offering no further comments.
For the past few years, these trailers had simply been concept pieces—intended to tease ideas, not raise expectations too early. Only once progress had been made would anything substantial be shared.
After all, this was the dream game Takayuki most wanted to create. He hoped that when it was finally unveiled, players in this world would feel the full magic from day one.
He didn't want them to experience the regrets he had from his previous life.
Meanwhile, the Cyberpunk 2077 development team had seen all the forum chatter and was thrilled.
They were dying to share more—but Gamestar's internal rules forbade them from leaking anything.
No one wanted to get into trouble.
Still, that pent-up energy became fuel to accelerate development—they doubled down on building Cyberpunk 2077.
As Gamestar Carnival 2015 came to a close, the company and the industry settled back into normalcy.
Players returned to waiting for the release of several promising titles this year, filled with hope and excitement.
Then, around mid-year, Takayuki received the latest internal sales report.
"President, it seems the growth of the video game player base has hit a ceiling. In recent months, global console sales have dropped to under a million units per month."
According to the data, Gamestar's latest GS home console and handheld combined were only barely reaching that number.
That had never happened before.
For over two decades, Gamestar Electronic Entertainment had experienced nothing but upward momentum—always leading in console and software sales.
Game sales had also declined recently, falling slightly below expectations.
It wasn't a quality issue—Gamestar games had consistently strong ratings, usually in the 4-star range, occasionally even hitting 4.5 or 5 stars for top-tier releases.
But starting in 2015, sales across the board began to dip.
"How are the other companies doing?" Takayuki asked, looking up.
"We've reviewed the other official reports—they're experiencing the same trend. Everyone is struggling."
Takayuki leaned back in his chair.
"Looks like the overall market environment is shifting in a bad direction."
"President, I think it might be wise to slow down some of our investment pace," said Yasutaka Natsume, pausing before continuing. "And preserve more reserve capital, because..."
"Because what?"
"Because it's not just the game industry. The global economy as a whole appears to be entering a stagnant phase."
"Stagnation?"
Takayuki was caught off guard, then quickly understood.
So the economic slowdown was a global problem, affecting all industries?
That was a variable he couldn't control.
Oddly, hearing this made Takayuki feel more at ease.
Economic downturns weren't new in human history.
Even in his original world, he had lived through several financial crises.
And by comparison, the economic resilience of this world seemed much stronger.
The last major slowdown had happened when the internet bubble burst.
That crisis began with Japanese internet firms like YOO, whose inflated valuations collapsed when it became clear they had no real future. Capital fled from the sector, and the internet economy imploded.
That ripple affected the global economy.
And it wasn't something even a major player like Takayuki could fix.
If entire nations struggled with it, what could a game company do?
Only two ways existed to break through:
Another technological explosion,
Or grit and perseverance to weather the storm.
In this kind of environment, it was expected that entertainment spending would drop—people had to be more cautious with their money.
Still... it wasn't completely hopeless.
Takayuki's eyes began to gleam as his mind started to turn.