As John had predicted, although several card games on the market quickly introduced duel systems inspired by Yu-Gi-Oh!, attracting considerable attention from players in the beginning, the excitement didn't last long. After all, Yu-Gi-Oh! had not yet launched on the PC platform and remained exclusive to VR, leaving plenty of room for competitors to seize the opportunity.
However, as players spent more time with those competing titles, their flaws quickly became apparent. The biggest issue was balance.
In many of these games, ordinary players stood virtually no chance against heavy spenders. Some premium cards were so powerful that a single monster could wipe out an entire deck built by a free-to-play player. No matter how skilled you were, it was almost impossible to overcome such overwhelming advantages.
A few developers attempted to take a fairer approach, deliberately avoiding pay-to-win mechanics. Unfortunately, they failed to understand the deeper design philosophy behind Yu-Gi-Oh!. While they earned praise from players, their revenue was abysmal.
Forget making a profit; it was difficult even to cover operating expenses. Staff salaries, server costs, maintenance, and updates all required money. The reality was simple: for a card game that relied on players purchasing cards, there had to be compelling reasons for players to spend.
The success of Yu-Gi-Oh! wasn't built solely on gameplay. The game was supported by anime, manga, memorable characters, and later, the concept of card spirits. All of these elements helped players develop emotional attachments to certain cards and decks. They weren't simply buying digital cards; they were investing in characters, stories, memories, and personal favorites. That emotional connection was what transformed a simple illustration or 3D card model into something valuable.
Of course, that was only part of the equation. Unlike physical merchandise, virtual items faced unique challenges. A collectible figure could sit proudly on a shelf after purchase. A weapon skin in Resident Evil Resistance could be shown off during matches. Cosmetic outfits could display special effects and attract attention from other players, providing direct psychological satisfaction.
Cards, however, were different. What was the point of owning a beautiful rare card if it was practically useless in battle? This created a difficult balancing act. If premium cards were too weak, players wouldn't buy them except for collection purposes. If they were too strong, free-to-play and light-spending players would quickly lose interest and abandon the game altogether.
Many developers underestimated the importance of those non-paying players. Although they generated little direct revenue and even jokingly referred to themselves as server parasites, they were an essential part of every competitive game.
They formed the player pool. Without ordinary players, who would the spenders compete against? Who would admire their collections? Who would witness their powerful decks? A healthy ecosystem required both groups.
That was one of the clever aspects of Yu-Gi-Oh!. Spending money didn't directly increase a player's strength. Instead, it allowed them to assemble complete decks more quickly and gain access to a wider variety of strategic options. The advantage was subtle but significant.
A fully optimized deck naturally possessed greater flexibility than an incomplete one. For example, when facing a strategy that relied on gathering all five sealed cards, an experienced paying player could quickly assemble an aggressive early-game deck and overwhelm the opponent before their win condition came online.
The premium card packs weren't necessarily filled with the strongest cards. Instead, they provided additional synergies, expanded deck-building possibilities, and strengthened existing combinations.
In other words, the monetization in Yu-Gi-Oh! functioned as a form of hidden enhancement. It was similar to cosmetic skins in MOBA games. Some skins felt smoother to use as their animations were more fluid, skill effects were harder to read, and attack motions seemed more comfortable. None of these provided direct numerical advantages, but experienced players often felt the difference. Those subtle advantages were exactly the type of enhancement Yu-Gi-Oh! utilized.
Meanwhile, as the platform's popularity continued to rise, John discussed several new strategies with Koch.
John said in the office. "We'll release an official announcement. Existing accounts created before the announcement must complete verification within one month. Any account below Level 5 that fails to bind will be deleted."
He paused before continuing. "Players can spend Gold Coins to freely switch between the three main protagonists and access their card pools. In addition, the Gold Coin Arena will require Level 5 before entry, and players must complete at least one duel that day before participating."
Koch silently nodded while taking notes. Restricting unlimited account creation was necessary. Not only did it reduce server pressure, but it also prevented abuse of the game's economy.
Many players repeatedly created new accounts not because they wanted the starter decks of the three protagonists, but because they wanted unlimited access to the Gold Coin Arena rewards. The situation was similar to players creating alternate accounts simply to claim daily bonuses repeatedly.
On VR platforms, account registration was relatively inconvenient since users had to switch between interfaces constantly. On PC, however, creating new accounts was much easier, so reasonable restrictions were inevitable.
After finishing his discussion with Koch, John talked about future PvE content. One proposal involved designing stages where certain special cards could dramatically simplify a challenge. Players who owned those cards could clear stages much more easily, while players without them would need stronger decks, better tactics, or simply a bit of luck.
The goal was to provide multiple solutions. Players who spent money could enjoy a smoother experience, while players who overcame challenges through pure skill would receive unique achievement titles and additional Gold Coin rewards. Everyone would have a path to success.
While John and Koch were discussing future plans, events were unfolding inside Gemtechs' headquarters. Byrum was still immersed in Yu-Gi-Oh! as he had been playing for nearly six consecutive hours.
From the moment he arrived at work in the morning until after lunch and several meetings, he had spent almost every available moment studying the game. By now, he had thoroughly explored its systems and reconstructed his original Dark Magician deck into a far more efficient version.
"The duel is over." Looking at the cards in his hand, Byrum couldn't help smiling. "I activate Sage's Gem from my hand. Since I control Dark Magician, I Special Summon Dark Magician Girl. Then I activate Dark Burning Magic. With both Dark Magician and Dark Magician Girl on my field, all cards my opponent controls are destroyed."
The devastating combo instantly cleared the field, and a moment later, his opponent surrendered. A satisfied grin spread across Byrum's face.
Just then, the office door opened.
"Director, Director Byrum!" the assistant called out. "The conference room has been prepared. The President and the others are waiting. When would you like to begin?"
"What meeting?" Byrum asked instinctively.
The assistant blinked. "The presentation about the strengths and weaknesses of PixelPioneers Games' Yu-Gi-Oh! and its game design philosophy..."
After the reminder, Byrum finally remembered. He glanced at the VR headset beside him, then at the computer sitting idle in screensaver mode. For a moment, the office became completely silent, and the atmosphere was awkward.
Seconds later, Byrum calmly picked up his cup of cold tea and took a sip. "Go show them the finale of the first season of the 'Yu-Gi-Oh!' anime."
The assistant froze.
"After that, have them summarize the relationship between the anime and the game, and explain why PixelPioneers Games released the anime before launching the game." His tone remained perfectly calm.
The young assistant, still new to the workplace, immediately felt tremendous pressure under Byrum's gaze. He nodded frantically and recorded every word, even the pauses.
As he left the office, he still couldn't understand how watching an anime finale had anything to do with a game design presentation. Then again, perhaps that was why Byrum was an industry veteran while he was merely an assistant.
Meanwhile, John remained completely unaware of what was happening at Gemtechs. At that moment, he had his own problems.
He was sitting in a conference room attending another meeting. Besides Armani, who had just returned from a business trip, Martel appeared noticeably darker after spending time abroad. What they were about to discuss next would determine the future direction of PixelPioneers Games itself.