Ortigas Business District —October 10, 2011.
The office was louder than usual.
Not chaotic—just alive. Humming with keyboards, quiet chuckles, the shuffling of chairs, and the ever-present clinking of coffee mugs against ceramic tables. The sunlight streamed through the floor-to-ceiling windows of TechAxis One's 14th floor, where the Creative Division now thrived.
It had been two months since Espector Studios moved in.
And this morning, the entire studio's Slack thread exploded with one line from Yuri:
"Check the dashboard. Now."
James, who had just taken his first sip of instant coffee from a paper cup, walked briskly into the main conference room where Yuri, Airi, and Sam were already huddled around the giant screen.
At the top of the screen was a large blue number, glowing softly.
100,001,782
Cumulative downloads across all Espector titles. One hundred million.
For a moment, nobody said anything.
Sam slowly pulled off her headphones. "…Holy shit."
Airi blinked, whispering under her breath, "That's… that's more than the entire population of Japan."
"Or the same as Philippines," Yuri added with a soft smile.
James leaned back in his chair, arms crossed, eyes still locked on the number. It didn't feel real. Even after the press interviews, the convention invites, and the publishers knocking at their door—this number still hit different.
They'd done it. They'd gone from a small rented co-working space in Cubao to triple-digit millions.
And yet, no one outside the studio really knew James Pascual.
Not as the mind behind it all. The developer from the future who just so happened to develop games that would click in this era.
"Boss," came a voice behind him.
James turned. It was one of the new recruits—Miguel, one of the junior UI devs who had joined just two weeks ago.
"Is it true?" he asked. "You're… the original dev behind Furious Birds?"
James blinked. "Isn't it obvious? Of course it's me. You are looking at monitor screens with Furious Birds right?"
"No way," Miguel whispered. "I thought the lead was, like… an American. Or Korean. Or at least a white guy in a hoodie. You're telling me the biggest mobile game on Earth was started by a Filipino in a run down apartment?"
"Believe it or not, it all started from my apartment."
"Damn! You are my idol!"
The room burst into laughter again. Even the new hires—dozens of them now, across all four floors—peeked their heads in, grinning, celebrating.
James smiled faintly and shook his head.
He didn't like the spotlight. But days like this made it hard to hide.
Back in his glass-walled office on the 12th floor, James sat down, still scrolling through the analytics. The numbers spoke for themselves:
Furious Birds (Original): 27.1 million downloads
Furious Birds Tactics: 11.4 million downloads
Furious Birds Kart: 13.7 million downloads
FlapFlap Hero: 40.2 million downloads
Furious Birds Puzzle Party: 7.6 million downloads
His phone buzzed.
A Slack ping from Yuri.
[Yuri] We should update the investor slide deck. Numbers this big mean people will start sniffing around again.
He replied quickly.
[James] Ignore them for now. Let the games speak first.
A knock came at the door.
It was another new face—Andrea, a young producer fresh out of university. She stepped in nervously.
"Sorry, sir—uh, James. The new animators wanted to say congrats. They're setting up something downstairs, in the pantry area."
James blinked. "Setting up what?"
Andrea gave a guilty smile. "A small celebration. Cupcakes and juice. They even printed a banner."
He sighed. "You're all too nice."
"Actually, it was Sam's idea. She just made us do the work."
Of course it was.
Downstairs in the 15th-floor marketing area, they'd set up a long table with a small red-and-yellow banner that read:
"CONGRATS ESPECTOR — 100 MILLION!"
Airi had drawn a quick doodle of the red bird giving a peace sign, and it was already taped to the wall. The cupcakes were store-bought, but each had a tiny edible icon—flapflap wings, raccoon masks, kart tires, and tiny green pigs.
James stood there for a second, watching the team laugh, chat, and take pictures. There were over 70 people now. Developers, writers, QA testers, artists, social media handlers, sound designers, engineers. So many faces he didn't even know by name anymore.
And they were all here… because of something he built.
Someone tapped his shoulder.
Yuri.
"Press wants a quote," she said. "About the 100 million milestone. You want me to handle it?"
James thought for a moment.
Then he looked out at the crowd. Some of them had tears in their eyes. Some were FaceTiming their parents, pointing at the cakes. One guy from the backend team was hugging a raccoon plushie like a victory trophy.
"No," he said. "I'll write something. Tonight."
Yuri nodded. "Good. Because this one matters."
She paused, then added in a lower voice, "You know… the dev world needed this. A Filipino-built game empire. It's not just a milestone. It's a message."
James raised an eyebrow. "What message?"
"That anyone can build something global. Even a guy coding on a secondhand laptop in Quezon City."
He smiled quietly. "That one's going on the quote board."
Yuri nudged him. "Now go. Eat your symbolic cupcake."
He did. It was chocolate.
That night, James sat alone in the rooftop lounge, watching Ortigas flicker with yellow light below. He opened his laptop, opened a blank document, and began typing his post.
["100 million downloads.
We didn't get here with investor rounds or massive ad campaigns. We didn't get here by following trends or cloning what was already out there.
We got here by building something that made people smile. That made them laugh. That made them try again, just one more time.
Thank you for playing our games.
From a small team in the Philippines—this is only the beginning."
—James Pascual, Espector Studios]
He hit publish.
And leaned back in his chair as the comments started rolling in.
The world finally knew.
And now, it was truly their game to win.