Video Game Tycoon in Tokyo-Chapter 996: The Players in the Livestream Room

Viewer A: "Takayuki (Official)? That's a bold name. I really want to see what kind of person dares to use that name."

Viewer B quickly replied: "Looks like it's a guy."

Viewer C: "What game is this?"

Viewer D: "Hey, hey, hey, why are you using that name? Don't tell me you're actually the game god, Takayuki."

Viewer B: "Haha, no way. Takayuki doesn't need livestreams to get attention. This is probably someone just borrowing the name."

Viewer E: "Exactly. Someone like Takayuki is probably doing more important things."

Viewer D: "What exactly do you think someone like the game god would be doing that's more meaningful?"

Viewer E: "Obviously... attending fancy parties, playing social golf, that kind of thing. That's what elites do, right?"

Viewer D: "But I remember Takayuki always insisting that he's a gamer at heart. Could he really fit into that kind of lifestyle?"

Viewer B: "Why not? His world is totally different from ours now."

...

...

Viewer C: "Hey, hey, this game looks kind of interesting. Looks like a real-life simulation or something. Could this be the new GTA?"

At this moment, the discussion in the chat had completely gone off track.

Very few people were actually talking about the game Takayuki was playing. Instead, many were focused on the name he used for the stream.

Takayuki wasn't the kind of person who liked showing his face on stream, so he only pointed the webcam toward his hands holding the controller.

It was the latest model with linear triggers, and to showcase those features, he'd set up two extra camera angles so viewers could get a full look at the controller's capabilities.

Viewer C: "That controller looks brand new. Must be the latest console and controller. So fast? I saw on the news that people are still lining up. It's only been a few minutes since the first customer bought one."

Viewer E: "Probably a streamer working with the official team. But still, the name feels off. Why use that name?"

A lot of viewers were clearly hung up on the name "Takayuki," paying little attention to the game itself.

But that was only temporary.

Because GTA: Liberty City Chapters had officially begun.

Niko, a war veteran from Eastern Europe.

After the war, he worked for a crime boss doing shady smuggling operations.

But after botching a major deal, he had to flee overseas to lay low—so he came to America.

In today's world, moving to America was still considered a dream for many.

For Niko, there was another reason too: his cousin had constantly bragged in letters and phone calls about his luxurious life in the U.S., painting himself as a successful man.

But when Niko actually arrived and saw his cousin driving a beat-up junker and living in a rundown apartment, the protagonist immediately let out a string of curses.

Viewer E: "Wow, that cousin is such a scumbag! I want to cuss him out too!"

Viewer B: "This GTA game looks way more realistic than before. Look at the facial expressions and animations—it's like watching a movie."

Viewer C: "Man, I want to go back and replay San Andreas now."

Viewer A: "You're watching the newest GTA game and still want to play the old one?"

Viewer C: "Why not? My San Andreas is heavily modded. Even if the cutscenes don't match up, the graphics are just as good! Plus, I added some... special minigames."

Viewers A, B, D, E, F, G...: "Tell us more! Share the minigame mods!"

Everyone in chat immediately knew what those "special minigames" were.

And they all started blessing Viewer C with "May you live a long and happy life!"

Takayuki ignored the chatter in the stream.

As long as nobody crossed the line, they could chat all they wanted.

Even if someone did step out of line, Facebook had moderators assigned to handle it.

At this point, Facebook's staff had already realized who the streamer really was.

Others might not know, but official platform staff had access to internal records. They were aware of which user accounts belonged to which notable figures.

Takayuki's account had been registered long ago—it just hadn't been activated until now.

Its sudden use had caught the Facebook livestream backend team off guard.

But they reacted quickly and activated contingency plans for handling the unexpected event.

Thankfully, they were experienced with these situations by now.

After years in the livestream business, Facebook had grown into a leading industry giant.

Not quite a monopoly, but it controlled over half the market.

In the investment world, many top investors were eyeing Facebook's livestream division as a prime asset.

And not just livestreams—Facebook owned a variety of high-value platforms and services.

All of that had turned Facebook into a diversified, deeply-rooted tech titan, rivaling the status of the Morgan Group.

Meanwhile, Takayuki continued playing.

He was already very familiar with the entire game's storyline.

He also knew all the hidden content and alternate strategies for completing the game.

If Takayuki were to rank his favorite GTA games, number one would be GTA V.

It was the most polished open-world game, and even ten years after release, it remained hugely popular.

Maybe GTA V made some trade-offs compared to earlier titles, but it was the most successful example of industrial-scale game production.

Coming in second, for him, was GTA IV.

He loved GTA IV for two reasons: it marked the beginning of a more realistic tone for the series, and its story.

To Takayuki, GTA IV had the most emotionally deep and complex story in the entire franchise.

It was a story about a veteran seeking redemption.

War leaves irreversible scars—and those don't fade with a few words or isolated experiences.

Then there's hate, pain, sorrow, and joy...

All of these formed the emotional core of GTA IV, and gave Takayuki a special connection to it.

That's why he was willing to lock himself indoors for an entire week—just to replay it.