"Oh right, the full name of that game is Grand Theft Auto."
"That name actually sounds kind of cool," Black said with a chuckle.
"It does sound cool, but the game itself isn't exactly... wholesome."
"What do you mean by not wholesome?"
"In this game, you can kill people at will—on the streets of an American city, no less. You can do all the things criminals do. Do you think a game like that should even exist?"
Black's eyes widened. "What? A game like that exists? Which reckless company would dare make something like this? Aren't there regulations?"
Hearing Black's over-the-top reaction, Peter smiled, feeling quite pleased with himself. "That's what I figured. A game this outrageous—if you knew about it, I knew you'd be furious."
"Furious? I'm absolutely livid! This game is practically inciting criminal behavior!"
Peter continued, "So, Black—if you were to crack down on this kind of game, and help protect the public from its harmful influence, don't you think that would win you a lot more votes?"
Black was immediately intrigued.
To be honest, when Peter first told him about the game, Black's mind didn't jump to moral outrage—it jumped straight to votes.
If he publicly condemned the game and managed to stop its release through public pressure, his reputation as a protector of public values would rise, and naturally, so would his support at the polls.
At this point in time, the video game industry was still relatively young and a bit distorted. Gamestar Electronic Entertainment sat alone at the top, the absolute king of the industry, while the rest of the companies fought over the scraps.
As a candidate for governor, Black figured that if he applied public pressure to a game company, it would almost certainly cave. And even if it didn't, the public image boost would still benefit him.
So whether it succeeded or failed, he had nothing to lose—how could he pass up a win-win situation like this?
Black perked up. "Peter, which company made this game? What kind of arrogant studio would even think of making a game like that? Tell me, and I'll get in touch with my people right now. We'll make life difficult for them—they've gone too far!"
Peter was thrilled—his goal had been achieved. He replied casually, "Oh, it's a fairly well-known name in the gaming industry."
"A well-known name, huh..."
Black paused for a moment, but figured that even if it was a well-known company, he could still go after it.
"The company is called Gamestar Electronic Entertainment."
"Oh, it's Game... Wait, what did you say the company was called?"
"Gamestar Electronic Entertainment. It's not even that big of a company, really. They've stuck to gaming and haven't expanded into any other fields. Honestly, I don't think they have any real future—they're only focused on games."
"Sorry, Peter. Forget everything I just said."
Peter: "???"
What was that supposed to mean?
Black realized he may have come off a bit too abrupt, and worried that Peter might take offense—and potentially steer those 100,000 votes to his opponent. He quickly followed up, "Peter, I didn't mean anything by that. I just think that in a free country like ours, creative freedom is important. We shouldn't suppress artistic expression, even if we disagree with it. People have the right to enjoy different forms of entertainment."
Peter's expression darkened. He was clearly unhappy.
"Black, this game is vile. I really don't like it."
"Well, I mean... it's just a game. It's all fiction—it's not real life."
Peter replied coldly, "Black, I have over 100,000 votes."
"Sure, and every voter has the right to choose who they support. I can't control that, obviously."
At that moment, Black felt like the epitome of moral righteousness—so righteous, it was starting to make him sick.
But what else could he do? It wasn't that he didn't want to help Peter.
It was just that... Gamestar Electronic Entertainment? That was a company you didn't mess with.
Gamestar's U.S. division had one of its branches located right there in New York State.
They paid tens of millions of dollars in taxes every year.
If he did something reckless that drove them away, who would make up for that lost tax revenue?
Those 100,000 voters?
Maybe... but probably not.
Votes were great and all—but they couldn't be turned into cold, hard cash.
So, the choice was obvious. Even a fool would know what to do.
Not to mention, Gamestar also provided over 2,000 jobs in New York State—from low-level staff to highly skilled tech positions. They'd even created a "celebrity effect" in the local industry. A lot of game companies that once only set up shop in California had started moving to New York, following Gamestar's example.
If Gamestar left because of this controversy and thousands of people lost their jobs, Black wouldn't just lose this election—he'd be done forever.
"Peter, I really think you should reconsider. Gamestar has a lot of influence. There's no need to start trouble with them. What's bothering you so much about this game, anyway?"
Peter replied coldly, "I'm not trying to start trouble. I just can't stand their latest game. It's incredibly inappropriate."
"Inappropriate," huh?
Black understood immediately.
He knew exactly what kind of group Peter's "freedom organization" really was.
A bunch of self-righteous types, constantly on the lookout for what they called "correctness." Sure, they had numbers—but no real power.
"Look, all I'm saying is, it's best not to mess with Gamestar. Their influence is huge."
"Huge? Bigger than me in New York State? I've got 100,000 votes!"
Black really wanted to say, "You think 100,000 votes are a big deal?"
Well, they are a big deal. He did want them.
But so what?
Votes couldn't pay taxes.