Video Game Tycoon in Tokyo-Chapter 999: Detail Freak (Part 1)

GTA IV tells the story of the American Dream—but at the same time, it's about a broken American Dream.

Eastern European war veteran Niko comes to America, and at first, players think it's just a story about chasing dreams and survival.

But as the main plot progresses, they discover that Niko has another reason for coming to the U.S.—revenge.

In fact, that's his true purpose.

Niko once fought in a brutal war. During a mission, he and his team were ambushed. Out of twelve close comrades, only two others survived besides himself.

Niko believed there had to be a traitor—someone who betrayed the team, causing most of them to die.

So, no matter what, he was determined to get revenge.

His investigation revealed that one of the surviving comrades was now in the U.S., and that's why he came: to find that man and settle the score.

Chasing the American Dream wasn't his true goal.

Takayuki planned to spend a full week completing the game, averaging about 13 hours of gameplay per day—roughly 90 hours in total.

...

...

In truth, the main story only takes 30 to 40 hours if rushed. But just playing the main story in a GTA game is a bit of a waste.

The real fun in GTA often lies outside the main plot—side content, exploration, chaos. The story draws players in, but the gameplay in the missions isn't always that compelling.

So Takayuki alternated between progressing through the story and wandering around Liberty City, doing side quests or just freely exploring.

At first, his stream didn't attract too many viewers. But because of how exciting and cinematic his gameplay was, many people left the stream to buy the game and play for themselves—causing the stream's viewer count to drop.

But Facebook's official livestream team knew exactly who Takayuki was.

They didn't dare ignore him—so they gave his channel full promotional support.

By the second day, his viewer count began to rise quickly.

"Huh? Who is this streamer? Never heard of them, but they're on the front page, officially recommended and everything. What's going on?"

"It's just a regular gameplay stream. Nothing special really—though I'll admit GTA: Liberty City Chapters is amazing."

Takayuki didn't engage much with chat. He simply played the game, without commentary or camera presence. So many viewers didn't understand why a low-interaction stream like this was being so heavily promoted.

"Maybe he has connections?"

"Look at his username: 'Takayuki (Official)'. Could he actually be the Game God, Takayuki?"

"No way... would someone that important really spend hours streaming a single game? He can't have that much free time."

People found it hard to believe.

But Facebook's livestream platform had tagged the stream as officially recommended.

That kind of endorsement wasn't given to just anyone. Only streamers with tens of millions of followers got that level of support.

And this channel? It had just hit 100,000 followers—most of whom joined in the past two days.

Then a pinned message appeared at the top of the chat:

"Dear viewers, the streamer wishes for everyone to focus on the game itself rather than the streamer. For this reason, the streamer has chosen not to show their face. Please enjoy the game and avoid placing too much attention on the person behind the screen."

The message overrode all chat comments, making sure everyone saw it.

That just made the stream seem even more mysterious.

An official popup. An official recommendation. Anyone could guess who it might be.

Even if it was hard to believe—it all made sense.

More and more viewers joined, and the chat became increasingly active.

But most of the discussion still centered around the game itself.

Because the content was just too compelling.

Takayuki took on more jobs in the game. Some were simple—like taxi driving or firetruck duties. Others were stranger, like delivering a single flower to someone across town.

Then there were the crazier jobs: leading one gang into a shootout with another. Afterward, players could loot the corpses and collect piles of cash.

But that had consequences. The gang that lost would now recognize the protagonist and shoot on sight anywhere in the city.

So wherever Takayuki's character went, chaos followed.

But it was profitable. Soon, his character had saved over a million dollars.

He used the game's housing system to purchase a large home in a busy part of Liberty City.

"Wow, why do I suddenly feel like crying? All this hard work... just to buy a home in the city."

"This hits hard. Didn't expect a video game to show something so real."

"Look, you can even decorate the house yourself! This game is insanely detailed."

"What's the point of decorating? I'm a construction worker—I'm sick of it. No way I'm doing it in a game too."

"That's because you're in the job. For the rest of us, it's awesome. And real-life home renovation takes months. In this game? A few bucks and a few minutes. Way better!"

"Furnishing your own little place... that's some real satisfaction right there!"

After decorating his house, Takayuki didn't stop.

He pulled out his phone and called a woman he had recently met through an in-game dating app.

They arranged a date, and very quickly ended up back at his house doing... intimate things.

"Downvote. Why doesn't this game include that scene?"

"If you really want it, go play it yourself. No way the streamer would show that live."

"Wait—are you saying the game has that kind of detail?"

"Of course. I already triggered it earlier!"

One second later, hundreds of viewers exited the stream.

The reason? Obvious.