Video Game Tycoon in Tokyo-Chapter 1000: The American Dream?

Game development is a unique discipline.

Players seek realism, but they don't want the boredom of real life.

So compromises must be made during the development process.

The first to go are long, tedious tasks.

Driving-related missions shouldn't last more than ten minutes on average.

Labor-type jobs should also be simplified as much as possible.

Buying property, decorating homes, running errands...

Make it feel real, but keep it nothing like real life.

Because in real life, finishing any job never comes easily.

...

... ƒreewebηoveℓ.com

But in games, everything can be streamlined—just a short process followed by a reward.

That's how players feel a sense of satisfaction.

Of course, there are always outliers—like Euro Truck Simulator, which replicates real-life long-haul trucking nearly 1:1.

But such games are inevitably niche. They may gain popularity in small circles, but it's hard for them to win over the majority of players.

Still, whether players accept them or not, once those niche games gain traction, some people buy in just to follow the trend. That contributes to sales, but not to genuine recognition of the game's quality.

Meanwhile, the protagonist of GTA: Liberty City Chapters, Niko, continued living out his American life in Takayuki's stream.

Sometimes, he had to deal with loan sharks chasing his cousin for gambling debts. Other times, he had to help those same loan sharks do shady jobs.

For most people, these dirty jobs are far from their reality. But in-game, they offer a strangely fresh experience.

Then everything took a turn with a sudden event.

Niko's cousin's girlfriend cheated on him.

And all the cousin could do was drunkenly pour his heart out to Niko.

Niko, not exactly known for his patience, eventually got fed up and dragged his cousin out to take revenge.

It just so happened that the person she cheated with was also the loan shark.

So Niko figured he might as well go all the way—and killed him.

That led to the cousin being kidnapped by the crime boss above that loan shark. To avoid getting themselves killed, Niko had no choice but to start working for this new boss.

And so began a cycle.

Job after job, each dirtier than the last—and nothing ever seemed to improve.

Gradually, viewers in Takayuki's stream began noticing something was off.

"Wait, isn't this supposed to be about chasing the American Dream? Why is this story so grim? He works so hard, but keeps getting knocked down over and over again."

The gameplay itself was solid.

But the story left a lingering sense of frustration.

Niko wasn't a hero. He wasn't a millionaire. He wasn't anyone special.

Even if you earned infinite money in-game, the main story wouldn't change.

You still had to face the harsh reality of the world.

This was the life of someone living in the cracks. This was the reality of the American Dream.

Eventually, Niko tracked down one of the surviving comrades from the war. After confronting him, he discovered this man wasn't the traitor.

Which meant the last surviving comrade had to be the one who betrayed them.

Niko used underground channels to locate this man and brought him to America.

Now, standing face-to-face with the man responsible for the deaths of twelve comrades, the game presented a choice:

Kill him—or don't.

At that moment, Takayuki didn't press anything.

He put the controller down and simply watched the comment section, where intense debate was unfolding.

This man really was the traitor. He was responsible for the deaths of twelve teammates.

And his reason?

Something utterly pathetic.

He had been under the influence of drugs. He got into a conflict with one teammate, and in a fit of rage and desperation, betrayed everyone—for just a few thousand dollars.

The entire chat exploded with disbelief and outrage.

By now, over a million viewers were watching the stream—real, active viewers.

Most had already figured out by this point that the person streaming really was Takayuki himself.

There was simply no way Facebook would give this kind of special treatment to anyone else.

Not even the biggest streamers got this kind of push.

That's why players had flocked to this stream in droves.

Some came not to watch the game, but just to see what Takayuki, the legendary game god, was doing with his time.

But seeing him play like any other gamer made him feel more approachable—not like some untouchable corporate mogul.

Takayuki's popularity soon reached the very top of Facebook's charts.

Even without official promotion, his stream had become impossible to ignore.

At this moment, the comment section was moving so fast that human eyes couldn't keep up.

AI had to filter and extract keywords to make the messages even readable for Takayuki.

And the consensus was clear: no one could forgive the traitor.

Not just because of what he did—but because the reason for it was so unforgivable.

"That guy deserves to die!"

"Kill him! He can't be allowed to live!"

It seemed that most players—or perhaps most people—had a sense of justice.

So Takayuki picked up the controller and slowly pulled the trigger.

A cutscene began.

Niko, holding a handgun, fired shot after shot at the traitor.

Twelve shots in total—one for each fallen comrade.

And when it was over, the man was barely clinging to life.

He wasn't angry. He wasn't regretful.

His expression was one of relief.

"Thank you," he said with his last breath, before collapsing to the ground.

As the man died, the comments in the stream fell almost completely silent.

Over a million viewers, and fewer than a thousand were speaking.

The rest were quiet.

The traitor was dead—but in their hearts, there was a strange emptiness.

There was no sense of satisfaction in revenge.

It wasn't that vengeance didn't feel good—it was that, once revenge was complete, a hollow feeling took its place.

At that moment, every viewer felt as if they had become Niko himself.

The American Dream.

That phrase drifted into the minds of many.

And right now, it felt more meaningless than ever.