Indie games are just games.
No need to attach special meaning to them, and no need to create something grand.
Just because a small team made it doesn’t mean it’s okay to be sloppy, and just because a big company made it doesn’t mean it’s automatically polished.
All that talk about how indie games *have* to be this or that is nonsense. At the end of the day, the core of being a developer is making games that gamers can enjoy.
But.
It’s also true that there’s an emotional aspect that only indie games can bring.
Like how the creator’s personal taste shines through more because it didn’t go through planning meetings or marketing reviews.
Or how you can see an unstable game gradually take shape in real-time.
Or how the lack of pressure allows for more honest and bold attempts.
Or how they use early access as an excuse to leave bugs unfixed and sell unfinished games to suck money out of people—
Anyway.
In that world of indie games, the game I brought was none other than *Apocalypse Chef*.
———
Another apocalypse?
Hmm…
Well, the visuals aren’t bad at least.
———
Indie games in particular love using the apocalypse.
No special reason, it’s just convenient to make.
A devastated world uses fewer resources and has a unique atmosphere on its own.
———
Why does this only have 100 purchases?
Right? It’s pretty well-made.
———
“100 is considered a promising number in this industry.”
The 100 purchases are just from the first three days after release. Over time, it’ll sell more.
This is an era where hundreds of indie games flood the market every day.
Most of those games don’t even sell 100 copies in their first week, and even if they do, they rarely surpass 1,000 copies in their lifetime before being forgotten.
In that context, already selling 100 copies? That’s a great situation.
With hundreds of players already secured, if the game’s quality is high, word of mouth will spread and sales will increase.
I launched *Apocalypse Chef*.
The title screen appeared.
I adjusted the sound and key settings, then pressed the start button.
「Bucket List
1. A list of things you want to do before you die.」
A short phrase appeared, and the screen transitioned.
*Bang—*. Deep into the night, a car sped by. The headlights were the only source of light, occasionally illuminating the dark surroundings.
I tried to look around by controlling the character, but the perspective didn’t change. Seems like I didn’t have control of the character yet.
*Splash*. A faint sound of water. A river? The occasional glimpse of the surroundings definitely felt like a bridge.
As the player character kept walking, a monologue began.
「People don’t need a special reason to die.」
As soon as the monologue ended, the player character climbed onto the bridge’s railing.
Clearly, they were about to press the regression button. Or maybe the possession button. Either way, it’s a common choice in prologues.
The view lowered. The perspective fixed on the swirling river in the distance.
The foot at the edge of the screen slowly inched closer to the end of the railing.
Then.
*Flash—*. A light burst over Seoul.
The sudden situation made the player character look up.
The light illuminated the pitch-black world. And then.
*Screeeech—*.
A 13-car pileup caused the road to be paralyzed.
「Therefore, people don’t need a special reason to live.
Some might think, since the world’s already ended, why not keep living?
That’s why the world is a mess.」
The screen transitioned.
The ceiling of a tent came into view.
10 seconds passed in that state.
Just in case, I tried moving the character, and sure enough, it worked.
So now I have control of the character.
*Hmm*.
I muttered softly.
“Is this self-awareness overload?”
———
Pretty sure it’s your influence?
For real, it feels super familiar.
———
Showing cutscenes like this before giving character control is common in games, but there’s still a sense of flow.
The cutscene I just saw was similar to the ones I often used in *Resurrected Students Also Need Love*.
Did you enjoy my game?
+1 point.
Making games takes a lot of time, so they probably just modified the intro of something they already made. The fact that they tweaked the final product means they enjoyed my game enough to do so, which is even better.
Let’s make it +2 points.
I opened the tent door and stepped outside.
The first thing to greet me was the green ground.
Then, as I looked up, I saw the cityscape.
A tent on the rooftop, huh?
A pretty stylish start.
I approached the railing and glanced at the road below.
*Ugh—*. Hordes of walking corpses. A very familiar sight for gamers.
“Zombies, huh?”
———
Apocalypse zombies are a staple.
Zombies have a lot of high-quality free models and AI, so they’re the easiest for solo developers to handle.
———
Some rich, shady oil tycoon released high-quality visual novel backgrounds for free…
Just like sprinkling seeds, the situation with apocalypse games was similar. There were a lot of surprisingly high-quality games for free.
Of course, it wasn’t some shady oil tycoon with deep pockets who got involved in apocalypse games, but rather so many developers jumped in that free assets became abundant.
It was what you’d call a quantity strategy.
“So, what should I do now?”
—
ㅁㄹ
Just survive?
—
I think games are more fun when they’re not too friendly, but that doesn’t mean I enjoy being thrown into the middle of nowhere.
If the purpose isn’t clearly set, the fun of the game is halved.
Even if it’s an open-world adventure game, the direction of ‘adventure’ itself needs to be firmly established.
That’s why, up until now, all the games I’ve made had clear objectives.
Even the open-world space adventure game, *Cosmic Osuary*.
Well, I could still guess the purpose of this game.
I pressed the inventory key, a staple in games, to check my belongings.
Inside the empty inventory, I spotted a notebook.
I clicked on it, and the name appeared.
‘Bucket List.’ I knew it.
“So, it’s a game about completing a bucket list one by one.”
I wondered what kind of bucket list it would be. I had a hunch. Probably something related to cooking. The game’s title, *Apocalypse Chef*, didn’t give it away for nothing.
Filled with confidence, I opened the notebook.
[Bucket List]
1. Open my own restaurant.
I knew it.
Hmm. Open my own restaurant, huh.
What was already a tough task in modern society has become even tougher now.
Opening a restaurant in a zombie-infested world? It’s a mission you can’t even attempt without some serious firepower.
In short, without abilities like physical enhancement or telekinesis, it’s impossible.
The viewers seemed to think the same, as the chat quickly filled up.
—
Isn’t it just me with the awakening ability?
Check the system window.
—
I was just about to check.
I opened the system window.
[Save]
[Settings]
[Bucket List]
[Superpowers]
As expected.
“Just as I thought. It’s a game where a powerful superhuman runs a restaurant.”
I clicked on the superpowers tab.
A translucent window popped up.
Alright, give me a powerful combat ability—
[Universal Growth (EX)]
Any lifeform touched by you receives a blessing.
*Blessing is limited to non-sentient beings.
……Huh.
I muttered quietly.
“Isn’t this a production-related ability?”
—
Seems like it?
—
“Where’s the combat ability?”
—
Why are you asking us?
—
I got hit hard with that one.
Truly, the person who made my game fun was something else.
You were a hardcore enthusiast too, huh?
In an apocalypse, gathering various ingredients would break immersion, so they gave a production ability but left combat entirely up to you, giving you nothing.
The kicker was that other NPCs probably got combat-related awakening abilities. This meant that even though the player got an awakening ability, the combat difficulty only increased.
I roughly figured out what kind of game this was.
Now, the important thing was how I was going to play this game…
“Should I check my abilities first?”
There was a small garden set up on the rooftop, as if expecting me to use my abilities.
I took the seeds I’d been eyeing and planted them in the garden.
Now it was time to water them, but before I could even grab the watering can, sprouts shot up like fast-forwarded footage, and potatoes grew.
Without even watering, the plants grew in 5 seconds. Definitely EX-grade performance.
I harvested one potato and checked it.
[Blessed Potato]
It’s incredibly tasty.
No strength boost or anything from eating it.
Just a really tasty potato.
Okay. I’ll stop expecting anything now. The message to handle combat on my own? Loud and clear.
I got up and headed to the rooftop railing.
Then I looked around.
The game’s goal is to open a store, so I gotta do it, but where’s a good spot?
Hmm.
Why bother going far?
Just open it somewhere nearby. That’ll do.
I rested the blood-stained baseball bat on my shoulder and walked toward the rooftop door.
Before opening the store, I need to clean up the area first.