Chapter 1468 1386 Alternate Account

Zaboru smiled as he leaned back against his chair while staring at the browser in front of him. Right now, he technically had two alternate developer accounts outside the normal ZAGE publishing identity. The first was Zaborn, his personal Steam developer account, and unlike the other account there was absolutely nothing secret about who owned it. Everyone already knew Zaborn was Zaboru Renkonan. Hell, the name itself wasn't exactly trying to hide anything. Zaborn was simply where Zaboru released games he personally created instead of attaching them directly to one of ZAGE's development teams.

So far, Zaborn had released two games: Fate/Stay Night and Tsukihime. Both were visual novels based on games from his previous life, although Zaboru naturally enhanced them using the technology and resources available in this world. The visuals were better, the presentation was smoother, some scenes had been adjusted, and he occasionally expanded parts of the story when he believed they deserved more attention.

Fate/Stay Night received one of the biggest changes. The three original main routes were still there—Saber, Rin, and Sakura—but Zaboru had also created a secret route that only became available after completing all three. That hidden storyline opened additional paths involving Medea and Medusa, allowing both characters to receive considerably more focus than they normally had. Zaboru had always thought both were interesting characters who deserved more opportunities to explore their motivations and histories, so the secret route became something of a reward for players who completely finished the main game.

He had also toned down the eroge elements from the version he remembered, preferring to focus more heavily on Fate's characters, battles, ideals, relationships, and story. Apparently that decision worked because Fate/Stay Night sold extremely well, and the franchise became even larger after Zaboru created a manga adaptation. Tsukihime also performed very well, establishing Zaborn as a surprisingly strong personal label despite having only two games.

Looking at the account now, Zaboru chuckled. "Hehehe... I really neglected this account, huh?"

It wasn't intentional. The last several months had simply been ridiculous. ZEPS 4 had consumed an enormous amount of his attention through hardware development, launch preparation, manufacturing, games, publishing, the Z-Store, and everything else surrounding what had become ZAGE's biggest console launch yet. Add his normal responsibilities across ZAGE on top of that and his personal projects naturally ended up being pushed aside for a while.

"Hmm... I wonder what game I should make next." Zaboru scrolled through the Zaborn page before glancing at information about the ZEPS 4 Z-Store in another tab. "And well... I think I can upload the Zaborn games to ZEPS 4 too. There shouldn't be any problem."

There really wasn't. Zaborn already released through Steam, and everyone knew it was Zaboru's account anyway. Putting Fate/Stay Night and Tsukihime onto ZEPS 4 would simply make the games available to another audience. Zaboru owned the games, owned ZAGE, and owned the platform receiving them, so there wasn't much to think about.

"Hehehe... convenient."

That could come later, though. First he wanted something new for Zaborn.

"Hmm... let's do something really good this time." Zaboru opened a blank document and thought for several moments. Fate/Stay Night and Tsukihime had already established Zaborn as his visual novel label, so continuing in that direction felt natural. "Another visual novel... but something different."

Then a title immediately appeared in his mind.

Zaboru began typing.

CLANNAD

He stared at it for a moment before grinning. "Yeah... this one."

Clannad was perfect precisely because it was very different from the two games already under Zaborn. Fate/Stay Night revolved around the Holy Grail War, Servants, Masters, battles, ideals, and supernatural conflicts. Tsukihime was darker and more intimate while still being deeply connected to the supernatural. Clannad, meanwhile, could begin almost like an ordinary school story about friendships, comedy, relationships, and romance before gradually becoming something much more emotional.

Family, growing up, responsibility, regret, loss, adulthood and eventually parenthood were what made the story special. It didn't need an enormous supernatural conflict or people throwing swords at each other to create emotional stakes. That made it perfect for showing that Zaborn wasn't supposed to represent one specific type of visual novel. It was simply Zaboru making stories he personally wanted to create.

"This one is going to destroy people emotionally," Zaboru muttered with a pleased smile.

"Hehehehe."

Apparently that was now a selling point.

He quickly began writing some initial notes about Clannad before saving the document. It wasn't something he needed to finish today. For now, establishing the project was enough.

Then Zaboru switched to his second account.

Isekai.

This one was very different from Zaborn.

While everyone knew Zaborn belonged to Zaboru, nobody knew the real identity behind Isekai. Publicly, Isekai appeared to be a tiny indie developer consisting of three people with some extremely suspicious names:

PlayStation. Nintendo. SEGA.

In reality, all three were simply Zaboru.

The joke still amused him.

More importantly, Isekai had developed an identity completely different from anything attached to ZAGE or Zaborn. If Zaborn was where Zaboru released his personal visual novels, then Isekai was basically his account for saying:

"FUCK IT, LET'S MAKE WEIRD SHIT."

And somehow that strategy had worked.

Isekai had already released Cave Story, Another World, Ecco the Dolphin, and Kolibri. None of them really felt like they belonged together, which was exactly the point. Isekai didn't have one genre or a recognizable formula. One release could be an action adventure, the next could be a cinematic platformer, and after that the player suddenly controlled a dolphin.

Then came Kolibri.

A game about a hummingbird.

Zaboru stared at the page and laughed quietly. "Seriously... I love this account."

Most of the games had sold surprisingly well, especially considering Isekai barely advertised anything. There were no giant ZAGE campaigns supporting the games, no famous developer appearing in interviews, and no Zaboru standing onstage explaining what he had created. Sometimes Isekai simply released something strange and disappeared again.

That mystery had gradually become part of its appeal. Players knew the names PlayStation, Nintendo and SEGA, but nobody actually knew who these supposed developers were or why they kept making completely unrelated games. Forums occasionally produced theories about them, some believing they were experienced developers secretly working away from their main studios while others assumed they were simply three strange friends who happened to be extremely talented.

Zaboru obviously never corrected anyone.

Unfortunately, he had neglected Isekai too while working on ZEPS 4.

"Hmm..." Zaboru leaned forward slightly. "If I'm bringing this account back, it needs something properly weird."

Unlike Zaborn, he couldn't simply select another good story. Isekai needed games where hearing the premise alone could make someone wonder why the hell anybody would create it.

In his previous life, Zaboru had played plenty of those games. Some of the most memorable indie titles weren't technically impressive at all. They were built around one small concept that sounded boring, stupid, or simply too strange to work, yet somehow that single idea could support hours of entertaining gameplay.

That was exactly the kind of thing Isekai needed.

Then Zaboru remembered one.

He immediately opened another document and typed:

PAPERS, PLEASE

Zaboru looked at the title before grinning. "A game about working at an immigration checkpoint."

He paused.

"That sounds so fucking boring."

And that was exactly what made it interesting.

The concept was incredibly simple. The player worked inside a small immigration booth and inspected documents from people attempting to cross the border. Someone handed over a passport, the player checked the information, and then decided whether to stamp it APPROVED or DENIED.

At first, there wasn't much to check. The photograph needed to match, the passport couldn't be expired, and the basic information needed to make sense. But then regulations would slowly begin piling up. Certain people needed additional documents. Workers required permits. Identification numbers needed to match. Dates needed to be checked. Names could contain subtle differences, photographs could be suspicious, and information across different papers could contradict each other.

That was where the simple concept became addictive.

The player needed to process people quickly because the number of successfully processed entrants affected their income, but rushing increased the possibility of missing something. Inspect everything too carefully and you didn't process enough people. Move too quickly and mistakes began piling up.

Then the player had expenses.

Rent, food, heating, medicine and family needs all consumed the money earned during the working day. Suddenly processing one more person mattered because that extra income might be the difference between buying medicine or leaving someone at home sick.

Zaboru smiled as he typed. "Yeah... that's where it gets good."

Because eventually the people crossing the checkpoint stopped feeling like simple documents. Someone might have invalid paperwork but desperately beg to enter because their husband had already crossed. Another person might be escaping something. Someone could lie, threaten the inspector or offer a bribe.

The regulations might clearly say DENIED, but the person standing in front of the player could make them want to press APPROVED anyway.

And helping them wasn't free.

Breaking regulations created penalties. Too many penalties reduced the player's money, and less money meant their own family could suffer. On the other hand, following every regulation perfectly could mean turning away someone the player genuinely wanted to help.

"Perfect."

That was all Papers, Please really needed. A boring job, increasing pressure, and enough human stories to make the rules difficult to follow without thinking.

Even the graphics should remain simple. Zaboru didn't want it looking remotely comparable to a modern ZAGE production. A cramped booth, cold colors, simple characters and documents filling the player's workspace were enough. The simplicity was part of the identity.

And the timing made it even better.

The video-game industry right now was obsessed with technological progress, especially after the release of ZEPS 4. Developers were discussing larger worlds, better graphics, physics, artificial intelligence, online features and increasingly cinematic experiences. Zaboru loved all of that—ZAGE itself was responsible for pushing many of those ideas forward—but he also knew games didn't need huge budgets to be fun.

"People need to understand that fun games aren't only big-budget games," Zaboru said while continuing to write. "You can make something with simple graphics, almost no action, and one stupid concept... and still make it incredibly fun."

Independent developers already existed in this world, but indie development still wasn't nearly as established as Zaboru remembered from his previous life. A lot of smaller studios still looked toward companies such as ZAGE and tried to compete by making their games bigger, prettier or more technically impressive.

Zaboru wanted to push another idea instead.

Don't compete with the largest studios at what they already do best.

Find one good idea.

Then make the hell out of it.

"Hehehe... these kinds of games need to become mainstream much faster."

His fingers continued moving as he wrote down the basic structure for Papers, Please: documents, regulations, countries, family expenses, characters, daily changes, moral decisions and multiple endings. It was actually refreshing compared to the absurd scale of projects he had been dealing with lately. ZEPS 4 titles involved enormous teams, huge budgets and increasingly complicated technology.

This?

A desk.

Some passports.

A stamp.

And a player slowly losing their mind because one bastard's passport expiration date was wrong.

Zaboru laughed.

"Yeah... definitely Isekai."

He leaned back after writing the basic concept, satisfied with what he had. Clannad would continue the identity Zaborn had already established, while Papers, Please would bring Isekai back with exactly the kind of strange project people expected from those mysterious three developers.

"Well, if people still don't like these kinds of games, that's fine..." Zaboru murmured, leaning comfortably into his chair. A small grin formed on his face. "I have plans for that too."

For now, though, this was enough.

It was time for indie games to rise further in this world—and perhaps much earlier than they were ever supposed to.

Meanwhile, at same time Hidetaka Miyazaki is having problem related to love

To be continued.