day that he flies someone halfway across the world for an interview.”
Hideo raises an eyebrow at his friend. “I flew
you
halfway across the world to join the company.”
Kenn laughs. “That was years ago. Like I said—not every day.” His smile returns to me.
“Thanks,” I decide to say, my head whirling from greeting four legendary creators in ten seconds.
The COO, Mari, turns to Hideo and asks him something in Japanese.
“Go ahead without me,” Hideo replies in English. His eyes settle on me again. I realize that he hasn’t smiled since I walked in. Maybe I really am too underdressed for him. “Miss Chen and I are going to indulge in a chat.”
A chat. A one-on-one.
I feel the heat rising in my cheeks. Hideo doesn’t seem to notice, though, and instead nods for me to follow him out of the room. Behind us, the others return to their conversation. Only Kenn meets my gaze as I look over my shoulder at them.
“He doesn’t mean to be intimidating,” he calls out cheerfully as the doors close.
“So,” Hideo says as we head down the hall to the main atrium, “your first time in Japan, isn’t it?”
I nod. “It’s nice.” Why does everything I say suddenly sound stupid?
More and more employees are slowing down to watch us as we pass. “Thank you for coming all this way,” he says.
“Thank
you,
” I answer. “I’ve been watching your career ever since the beginning, when you first hit it big. This is a huge honor.”
Hideo gives me a half-interested nod, and I realize he must be tired of hearing that from everyone he meets. “I apologize for interrupting your week, but I hope your trip went well enough.”
Is he serious? “That’s kind of an understatement,” I reply. “Thank you, Mr. Tanaka—Hideo—for paying off my debts. You didn’t have to do that.”
Hideo waves a nonchalant hand. “Don’t thank me. Considerit a small advance payment. Frankly, I’m surprised you were in debt at all. Surely some tech company has noticed your skills by now.”
A needle of irritation pricks me at Hideo’s easy dismissal of my debt. I guess six thousand dollars—to me, an unconquerable mountain—isn’t even worth a second thought when you’re a billionaire. “I have a couple of things on my record,” I reply, trying to keep the annoyance out of my voice. “My
criminal
record, I mean. They’re nothing that serious, but I wasn’t allowed to touch a computer for two years.” I decide to not mention my father’s death and my time in foster care.
To my surprise, Hideo doesn’t press me further. “I’ve employed enough hackers to know a good one when I see one. You would’ve been discovered sooner or later.” He gives me a sidelong look. “And, well, here you are.”
He leads us around a corner and toward another set of sliding doors. We enter an empty office. Windows go from ceiling to floor. A bright mural is painted along one corner, a colorful swirl of stylized game levels. Sleek couches are in another corner. The doors slide closed behind us, and we’re alone.
Hideo turns to me. “I know you’ve seen yourself mentioned everywhere online,” he says. “But can you guess why you’re here?”
By mistake?
But instead I respond, “On the flight, Mr. Edon said that I was going to be entered into the Wardraft.”
Hideo nods. “You are, unless you don’t want to be.”
“Does that mean you want me to compete in this year’s Warcross championships?”
“Yes.”
I suck in my breath. Hearing this from Hideo himself, from the creator of Warcross, finally makes it real. “Why?” I say. “I mean, I’m a pretty good player, but I’m not ranked in the internationallists or anything. Are you putting me in for the ratings? As some marketing ploy?”
“Do you have any idea what you actually did when you hopped into the opening game?”
“I ruined the biggest game of the year?” I venture a guess.
“You managed to hack through a shield that has almost never been
Hideo raises an eyebrow at his friend. “I flew
you
halfway across the world to join the company.”
Kenn laughs. “That was years ago. Like I said—not every day.” His smile returns to me.
“Thanks,” I decide to say, my head whirling from greeting four legendary creators in ten seconds.
The COO, Mari, turns to Hideo and asks him something in Japanese.
“Go ahead without me,” Hideo replies in English. His eyes settle on me again. I realize that he hasn’t smiled since I walked in. Maybe I really am too underdressed for him. “Miss Chen and I are going to indulge in a chat.”
A chat. A one-on-one.
I feel the heat rising in my cheeks. Hideo doesn’t seem to notice, though, and instead nods for me to follow him out of the room. Behind us, the others return to their conversation. Only Kenn meets my gaze as I look over my shoulder at them.
“He doesn’t mean to be intimidating,” he calls out cheerfully as the doors close.
“So,” Hideo says as we head down the hall to the main atrium, “your first time in Japan, isn’t it?”
I nod. “It’s nice.” Why does everything I say suddenly sound stupid?
More and more employees are slowing down to watch us as we pass. “Thank you for coming all this way,” he says.
“Thank
you,
” I answer. “I’ve been watching your career ever since the beginning, when you first hit it big. This is a huge honor.”
Hideo gives me a half-interested nod, and I realize he must be tired of hearing that from everyone he meets. “I apologize for interrupting your week, but I hope your trip went well enough.”
Is he serious? “That’s kind of an understatement,” I reply. “Thank you, Mr. Tanaka—Hideo—for paying off my debts. You didn’t have to do that.”
Hideo waves a nonchalant hand. “Don’t thank me. Considerit a small advance payment. Frankly, I’m surprised you were in debt at all. Surely some tech company has noticed your skills by now.”
A needle of irritation pricks me at Hideo’s easy dismissal of my debt. I guess six thousand dollars—to me, an unconquerable mountain—isn’t even worth a second thought when you’re a billionaire. “I have a couple of things on my record,” I reply, trying to keep the annoyance out of my voice. “My
criminal
record, I mean. They’re nothing that serious, but I wasn’t allowed to touch a computer for two years.” I decide to not mention my father’s death and my time in foster care.
To my surprise, Hideo doesn’t press me further. “I’ve employed enough hackers to know a good one when I see one. You would’ve been discovered sooner or later.” He gives me a sidelong look. “And, well, here you are.”
He leads us around a corner and toward another set of sliding doors. We enter an empty office. Windows go from ceiling to floor. A bright mural is painted along one corner, a colorful swirl of stylized game levels. Sleek couches are in another corner. The doors slide closed behind us, and we’re alone.
Hideo turns to me. “I know you’ve seen yourself mentioned everywhere online,” he says. “But can you guess why you’re here?”
By mistake?
But instead I respond, “On the flight, Mr. Edon said that I was going to be entered into the Wardraft.”
Hideo nods. “You are, unless you don’t want to be.”
“Does that mean you want me to compete in this year’s Warcross championships?”
“Yes.”
I suck in my breath. Hearing this from Hideo himself, from the creator of Warcross, finally makes it real. “Why?” I say. “I mean, I’m a pretty good player, but I’m not ranked in the internationallists or anything. Are you putting me in for the ratings? As some marketing ploy?”
“Do you have any idea what you actually did when you hopped into the opening game?”
“I ruined the biggest game of the year?” I venture a guess.
“You managed to hack through a shield that has almost never been
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