Chapter 20: A Developer’s Resolve and Unexpected Confessions

After the stream ended, Bunnyrun spoke.
[Unni, the game was fun.]

“I’m glad to hear that. I was shocked when you started crying in the middle.”

[I didn’t cry.]

I uploaded a clip of Bunnyrun’s stream to our voice chat. I had picked it up from a VR streaming forum.

With today’s advanced technology, avatars automatically reflect human emotions, including tears.

Did she just see the clip of herself staring tearfully at the corpse of the advanced water spirit? Bunnyrun went silent for a moment, then asked:

[I’ve got a question.]

“Ask away.”

[Do you only develop PC games?]

“Nope. Excel Busters is a VR game.”

[Really?]

“You should try it sometime. It’s fun too.”

[Since Fantasy Life was fun, Excel Busters must be fun as well… No, that’s not what I meant to say.]

Bunnyrun quickly changed the subject.

[So, about Fantasy Life.]

“Yes?”

[Wouldn’t it be better if it were a VR game…?]

“……”

I have a personal philosophy about game development. I believe game developers should embody the spirit of craftsmanship.

And craftsmanship often comes with stubbornness. To be considered a master, you need to stand firmly by what you believe is right.

But at the same time, a developer cannot rely solely on craftsmanship. If you’re creating products for the public, flexibility is essential.

In other words, while it’s important to follow through with your original vision—like making a game designed for PC—you must also know when to change course if necessary.

Most games initially designed for PC tend to be optimized for that platform.

For example, the quarter-view genre has nearly disappeared from the gaming world because it doesn’t suit VR well. When the medium changes, the game must change too.

So, I often toss out my original ideas and start from scratch.

However, Fantasy Life was an exception to this rule.

It wasn’t just suitable for VR—it was perfectly optimized for it.

Why didn’t I realize this sooner?

It was a blind spot.

“That’s a great idea.”
[Right?]

“If it goes well, I’ll treat you to something delicious—like golden tilefish.”

[Wow!]

Seeing Bunnyrun happy made me happy too.

[How long will it take? A few years, right?]

“No, it won’t take that long.”

[Really?]

“Yep.”

Converting an already-developed PC game into a VR version… might just be a grind. I’d need to check.

Anyway.

“Bunnyrun, can I ask you something?”

Fantasy Life’s VR version launched smoothly.

Bunnyrun was caught off guard when it was released just days after our conversation. She thought I had been playing a prank and already had the VR version prepared. Since I wasn’t, I figured I’d treat her to a feast.

The VR version of Fantasy Life sold 500 copies on the first day.

As expected, live-streaming was the answer. With my name getting some recognition and Bunnyrun promoting it, we hit 500 sales right away.

Even if it was only 500 total, not per day, it was still the best record in my game development history.

So, I decided to celebrate with a light party.

I planned to devour a box of plum-flavored highballs and potato chips.

But I had to change my plans—Bunnyrun showed up at my place.

She dragged me to the omakase restaurant we visited last time, pulling out a card to congratulate me.

Weird. I was supposed to treat her. Especially since she helped promote the game, it felt like I should be paying.

Still, despite my thoughts, my hands moved instinctively. I could always treat her to something better next time.

After a satisfying meal, we brainstormed DLC ideas, adjusted game balance, chatted at Bunnyrun’s place, and even did some side gigs together. Nearly a week passed in the blink of an eye.

It had been a while since I enjoyed life this much.

So why did I feel so uneasy?

Like a student relishing summer break without doing their homework, something was off.

I must have forgotten something.

I racked my brain until the answer clicked.

I hadn’t watched the new anime.

I logged into a streaming site and started the much-talked-about anime about game developers from episode one.

When the protagonist started losing his mind over a bug, I turned it off—it was already evening.

I cracked open the plum highball and potato chips I’d bought earlier and logged into MeTube.

Why hasn’t Bunnyrun uploaded any new videos yet?

Annoyed, I left a comment.

—Han Yurim: Where’s my dinner side dish?

The comment quickly got over 300 likes, showing how many people felt the same way.

I smacked my lips.
What should I watch while eating dinner now? Moss’s MeTube channel? But his uploads are too irregular since it’s just a hobby stream.

Guess I’ve got no other choice.

I replayed one of Moss’s streams, rewatching his Excel Busters broadcast.

It was while I was finishing my third can of highball, still staring at Moss’s chat, that it hit me.

Wait… my last stream was 10 days ago?

That’s why I’ve been feeling uneasy.

Mystery solved!

[Let’s catch up!]

I immediately started a stream.

The speakers played the newly composed OST for Fantasy Life.

It was a cheerful and lighthearted tune, like wandering through a fairytale. I’d written it as a tribute for Bunnyrun, figuring she’d like it.

Of course, it was actually the theme for a hopelessly difficult final boss. She’d love it, though—it played during one of the most impactful moments in the game.

Viewers began flooding in, and chat messages started flying.

“Oh, now you decide to show up?”
“Couldn’t you at least leave a notice, you lunatic?”
“If you were busy with game development, you could’ve just told us!”

It seemed everyone assumed I hadn’t streamed because I was too busy working on the game.

I guess my position confused people—more like a part-time streamer with a hobby vibe.

Hmm. Strange. Even if game development is my main focus, I never thought of streaming as just a hobby. How did I end up with this image?

“I didn’t stream because I was catching up on anime, novels, and comics. The game was released last week, after all. Logistically, there was no reason why I couldn’t stream because of game development.”

First, I corrected their misconception.

After all, there’s an old saying: if you admit to dropping your iron axe, you might receive both a silver and gold axe in return.

Alright, forest spirit. Now’s the time. Give me that silver and gold!

“Ha! I knew it!”
“She released the game 10 days ago—no way she was too busy to stream!”
“Already at stage 4? Already at stage 4? Already at stage 4?”

Fairytales were wrong. Being honest doesn’t earn you silver and gold axes.

Feeling a bit hurt, I finally spoke up.

“Can’t I at least get a bronze axe?”

“I’ll break your skull with that axe.”

Feeling a bit bitter, I popped open another plum-flavored highball and chugged it. Strangely enough, my mood improved.

Munching on some potato chips, I noticed the chat lighting up again.

“Are you eating or streaming?”
“If you’re gonna do this, at least turn on the camera!”

“I don’t have a camera at home. And look at the title—it says chat stream!”

“Chat stream my foot!”
“More like a no-communication stream.”

The viewers’ distrust was through the roof. It baffled me—developers as communicative as me were rare, yet they still misunderstood me.

“Ask me anything. It doesn’t even have to be about the game,” I offered, hoping to clear the air.

Just then, a donation alert popped up with a fanfare.

<User> donated 1,000 won.
—I’m enlisting tomorrow. Can you cheer me on?

Wait, what? Enlisting?

“Isn’t today Wednesday? Active-duty enlistment is on Mondays, right?”

“I recently finished my service, and nothing’s changed.”

“Careful with the wording—it’s not the military but boot camp. Anyway, even public service isn’t easy, so hang in there.”

I gave a light response and continued snacking on my chips. The chat’s mood shifted in a strange way, and more donations rolled in.

<User> donated 1,000 won.
—A girl knowing this much about the military?”

There’s an unspoken rule in this world: you can only joke about your own group. For example, only Black people can use certain slurs.

And similarly, military talk? That’s a man’s domain.

It’s just the way things work.

“Of course, I know a lot,” I replied casually.

Because I’m the exception to the rule.

“I served, too.”

As an active-duty soldier, no less.

The chat exploded.

“No way! You actually served?”
“Were you a sergeant? Or an officer?”

“I was just an enlisted soldier. If I were an officer or sergeant at my age, I’d still be in the military.”

“How are we supposed to know how old you are?”
“Wait, are there really people who voluntarily enlist as soldiers?”

I’ve mentioned before that even after becoming a woman, most of my past—relationships included—didn’t change much. The same goes for my military service. Even now, I remain a former corporal who completed her term.

That’s why I only recently started looking for a part-time job. Those two years of semi-unemployment were made possible thanks to the money I saved during my military service. All of this happened because, in this world, women can also enlist as soldiers if they choose.

Though military service is still mandatory for men, women can volunteer.

“Are you that patriotic?”
“LMAO, can’t believe you actually did that.”
“What, were you bored?”

As you can tell from the chat, most people wouldn’t enlist willingly. Even in the U.S., recruitment is so difficult that they resort to various tricks. Here in Korea, where soldiers are treated even worse, the only ones serving are those forced to go.

Well, except for me.

This choice reflects my personality.

When I was still a guy, I could’ve avoided active duty. Since I skipped meals and focused solely on game development, I was underweight and initially classified as exempt.

So why did I still go? Because they told me if I stayed underweight, I’d be assigned to public service instead. I didn’t want that, so I quickly gained enough weight to qualify for active duty.

Why would I do such a ridiculous thing? I was worried that if I didn’t experience military life firsthand, I wouldn’t be able to create realistic military-themed games.

Of course, I regretted that choice by the second day of boot camp. But in hindsight, that same stubborn streak might explain why I still ended up enlisting, even after becoming a woman.

Even though my past hasn’t changed much, the subtle differences seem to reflect the kinds of decisions I’d naturally make.

“Any other questions?” I asked.

“How old are you?”

“I’m 23. I’ve been dropping hints throughout my streams, but it seems none of you were paying attention.”

More questions followed—about whether I’d announce streams in advance, what my streaming schedule looked like, and what my next project would be. I answered them all and glanced at the clock.

Two hours had flown by.

“Shall we play a game now?”

Naturally, the game of choice was Eternal World.