A multiplayer game is business software with the excuses taken away.
The state changes many times a second. It is shared by people in different places on
different networks, on hardware nobody chose for them. It has to be correct, and it has
to be correct now — a hundred milliseconds late is not a slow page, it is a lost round,
and a player feels it long before they could explain it.
Nobody has to be asked to complain, either. An audience playing together notices a
regression within minutes and says so in public. There is no quarterly review in which a
latency problem is eventually discovered. That is an unforgiving place to learn, and it
teaches exactly the things business software needs: where state should live, what happens
on reconnect, how a system behaves when the queue is longer than the workers, and which
part you sacrifice first when something has to give.
It teaches a less technical habit as well. A game is judged on how it feels, so a games
studio argues about response time the way other teams argue about wording. Speed stops
being an optimisation ticket somewhere near the end and becomes part of the design from
the beginning. That is the whole reason this page says real-time before it says anything
else — and it is the honest answer to why a studio that makes its own games is a
reasonable place to bring high-load work.