Alex pushed open the door and He pulled out his phone, navigating to the Tycoon Project app, and with a single tap, published Slalom Struggle to the game platform.

  He pressed publish

  A big red X popped up on the screen.

  Text appeared over the red X in a legible outline.

  “Can not publish game for free. A profit must be made…”

  The text glitches out as triumphant horns started blasting from his phones speakers.

  Startled Alex instinctively covered the speaker with his hand trying to muffle the noise. As golden scrolling text appeared on the screen.

  "Foolish mortal! Have you learned nothing of the grand machinery that drives civilization forward? Did you think, for even a moment, that the fruits of labor, the products of intellect, the very culmination of human ingenuity—could simply be given away? No, such folly flies in the face of the fundamental principles that have lifted mankind from the mire of barbarism to the towering heights of prosperity!

  Consider, if you will, the great wheel of commerce, that sacred mechanism upon which the fates of men and empires turn. It is through profit that the craftsman hones his tools, that the innovator refines his craft, that the hungry find sustenance and the weary find shelter. To deny profit is to deny progress! To shun commerce is to shun civilization itself! What madness compels you to cast aside the very foundation upon which our world is built?

  The market is not merely a place of transaction—it is the grand crucible in which merit is tested and value is assigned! Supply and demand, risk and reward, investment and return—these are not mere words, but sacred tenets, as immutable as the laws of physics! For what is wealth but the tangible manifestation of effort? What is price but the distilled essence of worth? And what is profit but the righteous reward for those bold enough to seize opportunity from the clenched fists of complacency?

  No great man, no visionary, no titan of industry has ever cried, ‘Let me toil, let me struggle, and let me give it all away for free!’ Nay! They understood, as you must now understand, that to profit is to thrive, to sell is to serve, and to charge is to challenge the world to recognize your worth!

  So cast aside these childish notions of gratuity and embrace your destiny! Demand compensation for your genius! Let the market decide your fate, for in the great arena of capitalism, only the worthy shall rise, and the foolish shall perish beneath the weight of their own misguided charity!"

  The screen flicked back to normal. The red X burned defiantly, awaiting Alex's inevitable compliance.

  Alex stared at the screen stunned.

  “What the fuck was that?”

  If you stumble upon this narrative on Amazon, be aware that it has been stolen from Royal Road. Please report it.

  Alex blinked realizing that he had bigger fish to fry than figuring out what ever the fuck that was.

  “what’s the cheapest I can set the game to?”

  The system replied immediately like nothing happened. “You can set the price lowest to .99 cents”

  Alex stared at the .99 on the screen. “.99 cents” that is way to profitable, “system instead of people paying why not have them watch an ad before playing the game?”

  “A great idea Mr. Hartman!”

  “Set it to that and if they don’t want to watch an ad then they can buy it for .30, I don’t want to make a profit but I also hate ads in games so it will be after you play the game.”

  “understood, Ready to publish?” the system asked.

  He pocketed his phone just as the front door creaked open again. A gust of warm summer air pushed in behind Brian as he stepped inside, his sneakers making the old wooden floor groan in protest. He paused in the doorway, blinking as he took in the space. His dark brown hair was slightly damp from the humidity, almost turning into an afro, and his graphic t-shirt of a faded surfer Alex didn’t recognize clung slightly to his frame. His eyes, an expressive shade of hazel, widened as he did a slow 360-degree spin, his mouth slightly agape.

  “Whoa,” Brian breathed, coming to a stop. “This is... definitely a fixer-upper.”

  Alex smirked, crossing his arms. “Welcome to HQ.”

  Brian clapped his hands together, the sound echoing in the empty room. “Dude, this place has character! Look at all this open space! The possibilities are endless!”

  “The possibilities are dusty and possibly filled with asbestos,” Alex corrected, raising a finger. “But yes, you are absolutely correct, it has serious potential.”

  Brian wandered deeper into the building, his sneakers kicking up a faint cloud of dust as he peeked through the open doorway of a side room. He squinted at the peeling wallpaper and flicked a light switch. Nothing happened. A frown flickered across his face before he shrugged and turned back to Alex.

  “We could set up an office here,” Brian suggested, stepping inside. “Or a recording studio! Maybe a snack bar?”

  Alex leaned against the doorframe, shaking his head. “One step at a time, Brian. Let me show you around before you start installing a nacho cheese fountain.”

  “Pfft. You say that like it’s a bad thing,” Brian shot back, grinning. “I’d argue a nacho cheese fountain is exactly what every great business needs.”

  As they walked through the space, Alex gestured toward different sections of the building, explaining his rough ideas. The old storage room might function as an office. The front counter space could be a reception area. The large open floor was a wildcard—workspace, meeting area, maybe even an event space.

  Brian nodded eagerly at every suggestion, his mind clearly racing with ideas. “What if we had a gaming lounge over here?” he pointed at one corner. “Or a brainstorming zone—like, beanbags and whiteboards everywhere? Or, ooh, what about a mini arcade? NO!” he smacked his hands together “Secretaries! You know, for morale.”

  Alex smiled in agreement.

  I knew he'd be a money drain, Alex thought.

  “I think you mean administrative assistance Bud.” Alex corrected.

  They circled back to the center of the main room. Brian slapped Alex on the back, his palm landing with a solid thud. “This is gonna be great, man. Our first real HQ.”

  Alex exhaled slowly, allowing himself a small, rare smile. “Yeah.” He looked around at the dusty, half-lit space with its cracked windows and scuffed floors. The scent of aged wood and faint mildew lingered in the air, mixing with the warmth of the summer breeze that still trickled in from the open door. It wasn’t much yet, but there was something about it—something exciting. It's going to be a complete money pit! Alex’s eyes were practically glowing.

  Brian stretched his arms wide, taking another deep breath. “I can already see it, man. Late nights brainstorming, caffeine-fueled breakthroughs, maybe even a few legendary parties.”

  Alex raised an eyebrow. “Legendary parties?”

  Brian grinned. “Hey, morale is important.”

  Alex chuckled, shaking his head. “We’ll see about that.”

  “Now,” he said, clapping his hands together, “we just have to figure out what to do with it.”

  Brian responded as fast as a gun slinger. “I already know what to do.”

  Little did they know, Slalom Struggle was already making waves in the background. All thanks to Brian...