Idols x Murder x Romance?
So I'm making this game called Whispers of the Luminaries. It's an idol-themed murder mystery visual novel that blends investigative gameplay (inspired by Danganronpa) with social sim gameplay.
Play as a detective
Follow 4 idol trainees trying to make their dreams come true
Make friends or choose to work on the case in your free time
Piece together clues to unravel a dark, yet heartfelt story
Check out the characters!
Detective Taichi Fukuda
Detective Eiji Hoshiko
Meet the idols!
May Ayano (Keytarist)
Miyuki Fujikawa (Vocalist)
Sayuri Kobayashi (Percussionist)
Akane Asagiri (Bassist)
Idol Instructor Tanaka
Bartender Yuki Hirota
Miyako Koike
Gameplay
I wanted to make a detective game where you can choose to hang out at different places, meet new characters and make new friends ^^ (Kinda like Persona, Coffee Talk, and VA-11 Hall-A)!
Free Time Events
There'll be 'free time events' and a 'world map system' where you choose where you want to hang out:
Trust Meter
During free time events, you get to meet different characters and deepen your relationship with them - learning more about their backstory.
There'll also be a 'trust meter' for each character.
Unravel the Mystery
Instead of visiting places like the bar, park or gym, you can also choose to visit your detective's office. Here, you'll be able to unravel the mystery by choosing which leads you want to investigate further:
Investigating leads is crucial to solving the case, but spending too much time here can lower your sanity, so be careful.
Once enough evidence is collected, there'll also be a deduction phase similar to Danganronpa/Ace Attorney, where you must select evidence to support or contradict a statement!
Join Our Debut ✓
We're launching a Kickstarter this month, aiming to bring more art, music and content! Look forward to new poses, costumes, character designs, and adorable CGs 😇
Follow our Kickstarter pre-launch, and be the first to grab Kickstarter-exclusive rewards like:
cute idol merch
early access to the game
special scenes featuring your favorite idol
design a costume for any character of your choice
early bird discounts!
Thank you so much!!
I want this to be the best mystery game you've ever played! ❤️
Whispers of the Luminaries: An Idol-themed Murder Mystery
🔔 Follow Our Prelaunch | ✨Try the demo
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Malfunctioned
Chapter Two
Bakugou
Bakugou's fist slammed into the wall. The receptionist squeaked, her eyes wide.
"What the fuck do you mean, 'standard solutions'?" He snarled, looming over the desk. "Did you not hear a goddamn word I said?"
The woman—Bakugou hadn't bothered to learn her name—stammered something unintelligible. Her gaze darted around the room, looking anywhere but at the fuming hero in front of her.
Bakugou's teeth ground together. This was the third fucking support company he'd visited today, and his patience was hanging by a thread.
The first had been a joke. A bunch of starry-eyed idiots more interested in getting his autograph than actually fixing his gear. He'd stormed out after ten minutes, leaving behind a room full of singed eyebrows and bruised egos.
The second... Christ, the second had been even worse. He'd tried to play nice, really he had. But then they'd started talking about "upgrades" and "premium packages." As if he needed their overpriced bullshit. He'd made his opinion on that quite clear. Last he'd seen, they were still trying to put out the fire in their demo room.
And now this place. He'd had high hopes for this one. They came highly recommended, supposedly the best in the business. But so far, all he'd gotten was the same cookie-cutter crap as everywhere else.
"Listen here," Bakugou growled, leaning in close. The receptionist flinched back, the scent of his nitroglycerin sweat filling the air. "I need someone who can fix my gear. Not slap a band-aid on it, not sell me some fancy new toy. Fix. It. Is there anyone in this goddamn building capable of doing that?"
The woman's mouth opened and closed like a fish out of water. Bakugou's lip curled in disgust. Pathetic.
"I-I'll get the manager," she finally squeaked out.
Bakugou straightened, crossing his arms over his chest. "About fucking time."
As the receptionist scurried away, Bakugou paced the lobby like a caged animal. His eyes scanned the room, taking in the sleek furniture and modern art. All style, no substance. Just like everything else in this place.
He caught sight of his reflection in a polished chrome sculpture. His hair was a mess, more wild than usual. Dark circles shadowed his eyes. And there, just visible above his collar, was a thin scar from where a villain had gotten too close during his last patrol.
Bakugou's jaw clenched. He needed his gauntlets.
The sound of approaching footsteps pulled him from his thoughts. A man in an expensive suit strode towards him, plastering on a fake smile that made Bakugou's skin crawl.
"Dynamight, sir! It's an honor to have you here. I'm Tanaka, the head of our R&D department. I understand you're having some issues with your support gear?"
Bakugou's eyes narrowed. This fucker better not be another waste of his time.
"Yeah, you could say that," he growled. "My gauntlets aren't firing right. Misfires, weak blasts, the whole nine yards. I need it fixed, and I need it fixed yesterday."
Tanaka nodded, his smile never wavering. "Of course, of course. We'd be happy to take a look. Perhaps you'd like to come back to our lab? We have some exciting new prototypes that might interest you—"
"Did I fucking stutter?" Bakugou cut him off, his voice dangerously low. "I don't want your new shit. I want my gear fixed."
Tanaka's smile faltered for a moment before snapping back into place. "Ah, yes, of course. Well, why don't you show me the problem, and we'll see what we can do?"
Bakugou grunted, reaching into the duffel bag slung over his shoulder. He pulled out his gauntlets, slamming them onto a nearby coffee table hard enough to make the magazines scatter.
"There," he said, gesturing to the scorched and dented equipment. "Firing mechanism's fucked. Calibration's off. And the blast radius is all over the place."
Tanaka leaned in, examining the gauntlets with a furrowed brow. "Hmm, I see. These are quite... unique. Custom-made, I assume?"
Bakugou's eye twitched. "No shit. You think I'd wear some off-the-rack crap?"
"Of course not," Tanaka said smoothly. "It's just, well, our technicians might have some difficulty with such a specialized piece of equipment. Perhaps it would be easier if we started from scratch? We have some excellent new designs that—"
"For the last fucking time," Bakugou roared, his patience finally snapping, "I don't want your shitty new designs! I want these fixed!"
Fucks sake!
Was he fucking speaking German?
Tanaka took a step back, his practiced smile finally cracking.
"Now, now, there's no need for that kind of language," he said, holding up his hands placatingly. "I'm sure we can come to some sort of arrangement. Why don't we discuss this in my office?"
Bakugou's hands sparked, small explosions popping in his palms. "The only thing we're going to discuss is how quickly you can get someone competent to look at my gear."
Tanaka's eyes darted nervously to Bakugou's hands, then to the exit. "I... I'm not sure we have anyone available at the moment who could handle such a complex—"
"Bullshit," Bakugou snarled. He took a step forward, relishing the way Tanaka flinched. "You're supposed to be the best in the business. Are you telling me that was all talk?"
Sweat beaded on Tanaka's forehead. "N-no, of course not. It's just, well, custom work like this requires a certain level of expertise, and—"
"And what?" Bakugou's voice was quiet now, deadly calm. "You don't have that expertise? Is that what you're saying?"
Tanaka's mouth opened and closed, no sound coming out. Bakugou could practically see the wheels turning in his head, trying to find a way out of this situation without admitting defeat.
Bakugou's lip curled in disgust. He'd seen enough.
Without another word, he snatched up his gauntlets and shoved them back into his bag. He turned on his heel, stalking towards the exit.
"Wait!" Tanaka called after him. "Perhaps we could—"
The door slammed shut behind Bakugou, cutting off whatever pathetic offer Tanaka had been about to make.
Outside, Bakugou took a deep breath of the cool evening air. His hands were still smoking, small pops and crackles echoing in the quiet street.
Three companies. Three fucking failures.
You
Monday morning arrived with a vengeance, bringing with it a pounding headache and the harsh reality of your job at Tech Nexus Solutions. You dragged yourself to work, praying for an easy day to nurse your hangover. The universe, however, had other plans.
"Hey!" your coworker Hana called out as soon as you entered the office. "Mr. Morita is on the warpath. He's demanding changes to his support gear... again."
You groaned, rubbing your temples. Mr. Morita, aka Rubber Man was proving to be a notoriously difficult client, a minor pro-hero with an inflated ego and a penchant for nitpicking every detail of his gear. "What is it this time?" you asked, dreading the answer.
"He says the material isn't breathable enough and the color is off by two shades," Hana replied, wincing sympathetically.
"Of course it is," you answered.
Taking a deep breath, you steeled yourself for the impending confrontation.
The vane of your existence was calling people, you hated making phone calls. Why couldn't you just send an email? But no, you had to put on your big girl pants and be professional.
You grunted.
You dialed Rubber Man's number, putting on your most professional voice. "Good morning, Mr. Morita. I understand you have some concerns about your gear?"
What followed was a twenty-minute tirade about the supposedly subpar quality of his suit. You listened patiently, jotting down notes and occasionally interjecting with clarifying questions. When he finally paused for breath, you seized your opportunity.
"Mr. Morita," you began, in your most professional voice, "I appreciate your attention to detail. However, I must remind you that the material we used was specifically chosen for its durability and flexibility, which are crucial for your quirk. As for the color, I have the approved shade right here in front of me, and I can assure you it's exactly as specified."
"But it doesn't feel right!" he spluttered, making you wonder who, what single individual had been responsible for his fucking huge ego. His mom probably.
You smirked, thankful he couldn't see your expression over the phone. "Feeling right and being right are two different things, Mr. Morita. Perhaps what you're experiencing is the natural breaking-in period for new gear. I suggest giving it a week of regular use. If you're still unsatisfied, we can schedule a fitting to address any specific areas of discomfort."
There was a pause on the other end of the line. You held your breath, hoping your blend of logic and compromise would appease him.
"Fine. One week. But if I'm not satisfied, I expect immediate action."
"Of course, Mr. Morita. Your satisfaction is our top priority," you replied smoothly, hoping your customer service voice was on point today. "Is there anything else I can help you with today?"
After assuring him once more that his concerns were being taken seriously, you ended the call, exhaling loudly.
"Nicely handled," Hana said, impressed. "I thought he was going to demand a complete redesign."
You grinned, feeling a sense of accomplishment. "Sometimes you just need to speak their language. A little flattery, a dash of logic, and a sprinkle of standing your ground." You stood up and stretched trying to relieve the kink your neck. "You know all standards when dealing with heroes."
As the morning wore on, you found yourself in need of a caffeine boost. You made your way to the break room, hoping a strong cup of coffee would chase away the last vestiges of your hangover.
"Did you hear? Dynamight is looking for a new support company!"
Your ears perked up at the mention of the explosive hero. Dynamight, also known as Katsuki Bakugou, was one of the top heroes in Japan. Working with him would be a massive opportunity for any support company.
"Are you serious?" another voice chimed in. "That would be huge for us if we could land that contract!"
"Yeah, but can you imagine dealing with his temper? I heard he made his last support tech cry."
You freeze, coffee forgotten as you strain to hear more. You really didn't like gossip, not really, well maybe you did like it a bit when it wasn't about you.
"I heard he actually set fire to the last company's prototype room," someone says in a hushed tone.
You rolled your eyes. Typical hero gossip, probably exaggerated. Probably. Though you really couldn't be sure when it came to the explosive hero. Dynamight's temper was legendary, but so is his prowess as a hero. Working with him would be the opportunity of a lifetime.
"Can you imagine trying to work with that? He'd probably blast you across the room if you suggested an improvement."
You snorted quietly.
"His gauntlets are a work of art, though," someone mused. "The way they store his sweat and amplify his explosions is genius."
"True, but they're also incredibly complex. One wrong move and they could malfunction catastrophically."
You found yourself nodding in agreement. Dynamight's gauntlets were indeed impressive, a perfect example of how support gear could enhance a hero's natural abilities. The thought of working on such advanced equipment sent a thrill of excitement through you.
"Who do you think they'll assign to his account if we get it?" one of your coworkers asked.
"It'll have to be someone who can handle the pressure. And his attitude," another replied with a chuckle.
You took that as your cue to enter the break room, pretending and failing like you hadn't heard a thing. "Morning, everyone," you said casually, making a beeline for the coffee machine.
Your colleagues greeted you, their conversation shifting to more mundane topics. As you prepared your coffee, your mind raced with possibilities. Working with Dynamight would be challenging, no doubt, but it could also be the opportunity of a lifetime.
You returned to your desk, sipping your coffee thoughtfully. The idea of designing support gear for one of the top heroes in the country was exhilarating. Sure, Dynamight had a reputation for being difficult, but you'd just proven your ability to handle demanding clients.
You could do, you knew you could.
A small, ambitious, prideful part of you wondered knew you'd be perfect for the challenge. After all, if you could talk down Mr. Morita, how much worse could the explosive hero be?
Little did you know, you were about to find out exactly how much worse it could be.
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