Video Game Tycoon in Tokyo-Chapter 964: Explosive Sales

The Summer Sale is the conscience of modern video gaming!

"With the Summer Sale, I feel like even my digital ED has been cured!"

"Hold on, you up there—what's been cured isn't your digital ED, it's your repressed consumer urge."

All across the internet, video game players were leaving messages expressing their satisfaction with the Summer Sale.

Gamestar Electronic Entertainment had become the hottest topic of the moment.

Even people who weren't loyal gamers now knew that there was this thing called the Summer Sale.

On the very first day, across the BattleNet platform and console digital stores, total sales reached 1 billion USD.

Assuming an average sale price of $20 per AAA title, that meant over 50 million games were sold in just one day.

But surprisingly, the top sellers weren't the major AAA titles.

...

...

The majority of purchases were actually mid-budget titles and indie games—previously unknown or under-the-radar titles.

These developers had not refused Takayuki's invitation to join the sale.

On one hand, they relied on Gamestar for exposure and sales. Most felt they weren't in a position to negotiate with someone of Takayuki's influence. They also worried that refusing might result in reduced promotion for their games down the line.

That said, this kind of thinking was largely one-sided—Takayuki didn't actually care about such things.

He had faith in the impact of the Summer Sale.

Especially during times of economic downturn, people became even more vulnerable to discounts.

So, many developers simply handed over pricing power to Gamestar.

Most of these games were discounted to 30–40% of their original price, and given they weren't expensive to begin with, the value proposition was enormous.

The price of a single AAA game could now get you ten or more of these titles.

And in this world, there existed a certain kind of person: the collector.

Seeing their digital library grow into the hundreds or thousands gave them an indescribable sense of satisfaction.

So when these players saw well-reviewed, deeply discounted indie and mid-budget games, they didn't hesitate—they hit purchase immediately.

"Aiko! Aiko! We've got a huge problem! Oto-chan, you too, get up—this is big!"

In the house shared by the close-knit trio Aiko, Kazumi, and Oto-chan, Kazumi had woken up unusually early and was banging frantically on their bedroom doors.

The night before, all three had been working on their new game development plan.

Kazumi had fallen asleep at the table first, too tired to keep going, while Aiko and Oto-chan had stayed up late discussing development direction.

But of course, they hadn't reached a conclusion that night. Around 3 a.m., they agreed to sleep on it and revisit the conversation the next day, together with their small hired team.

Aiko and Oto-chan had helped Kazumi back to her room before going to sleep themselves, expecting to sleep in until noon.

That's why Kazumi waking them up this early was highly unusual.

Oto-chan, annoyed, opened the door—still groggy and wearing a thin white sleep shirt.

"Kazumi, what are you doing?!"

Kazumi burst into the room. "Turn on your computer—our game sales have exploded! Money's pouring in!"

Money.

A magical word for Oto-chan—her sleepy eyes lit up instantly.

Aiko, stepping out of her room after hearing the shouting, peeked in just in time to hear Kazumi's announcement.

"Money? What money?"

"The Summer Sale! Our game is selling like crazy!"

The moment she said it, the other two understood.

Oto-chan launched herself at her desk, opened her laptop, and logged into Gamestar's official distribution backend.

This platform had been created by Gamestar specifically for indie developers, allowing them to publish directly without a third-party publisher.

Sure, they missed out on some perks associated with traditional publishing, but that didn't matter to these three.

After all, their mentor was Gamestar Electronic Entertainment itself. If they ever needed to go the publishing route, Gamestar was the best there was.

Opening the dashboard, Oto-chan and Aiko saw a number that would be etched into their memories forever.

Farm Defense—the very first true video game they had created together.

Thanks to the boom in indie games and farming sim genres, it had already sold quite well.

Its final pre-sale total had hit 1.3 million units, a top performer among indie games.

Now, overnight, during the sale event, it had sold another 800,000 copies across BattleNet, consoles, and handhelds.

The sale price for the game was just $2—cheaper than a single breakfast in many regions.

But for that price, it offered hours of joy—an easy sell for many players.

Plus, the game's cute cartoon art style appealed to all ages, further boosting its popularity.

"This is... our game?" Oto-chan stared at the sales figures in disbelief.

The revenue didn't even matter as much as the milestone: their first game had now officially surpassed 2 million in sales.

Gamestar only took a tiny service fee, and all remaining revenue would go directly to the trio.

And this was just one of their games.

Dead Cells, which had Gamestar directly involved in development, followed a revenue-sharing model. But to promote the Summer Sale, and because Takayuki didn't care about profit, he waived Gamestar's share entirely—redirecting it to fund an even deeper discount.

The complete edition of Dead Cells, with all DLC, was now just $4.

For just $4, players could enjoy over 100 hours of rich, Metroidvania gameplay.

Anyone even remotely interested in the genre couldn't resist.