INEXX Interactive
A small team building things that should not be possible for a company this size. Click any card to see the full story.
Started building a game engine at 14. Now runs a software company, an operating system project, and a server network — all at the same time. His commit history is prolific on weekdays and dangerously unhinged at 2AM on weekends. Once pushed a production hotfix while clutching a 1v4 on Inferno with a deagle. The deploy worked. The round, somehow, also worked.
Berat's relationship with Instagram Reels is not a hobby — it is an optimized pipeline. He has scrolled through more content in a single session than most people consume in a year, all from one legendary couch that has become less furniture and more a permanent workstation. The couch has seen every project launch, every code review, and every viral audio track known to mankind. He codes entire mobile applications from that couch. He has joined architecture calls and made decisions that shaped INEXX's backend — with one hand, while the other was mid-scroll on a cat video. His real superpower is efficiency: he ships in two hours what takes others a full day, specifically so he has more Reel time. Also washes his hands a minimum of three times per interaction with any surface. Before it was mandatory. He was ahead of the curve on that one.
Valve's anti-cheat is one of the most sophisticated automated detection systems ever built. Near-zero false positive rate. Trained on hundreds of millions of data points. And yet, Yusuf Canbay has been flagged by it so many times that the team genuinely believes he has broken something in their probability models. Each ban comes with a counter-argument from Yusuf — always compelling, always structured, always ignored by Valve's automated support. The fourth ban produced a 47-slide presentation with heatmaps, frame-by-frame replays, and a closing argument that cited the Geneva Convention. The team voted 2-1 innocent. Valve disagreed. He remains the undisputed Doblons champion and, by every observable metric, one of the most mechanically gifted players anyone on the team has ever seen. Also ships clean, well-documented code with minimal bugs — which is perhaps more impressive given the circumstances.
Dmitri builds the parts of NEXEN that make GPUs reconsider their career choices. Real-time ray tracing, PBR material pipelines, and lighting systems that make environment artists emotional. He communicates through terse Slack messages before midnight, and exclusively through shader code after. His idea of a "quick optimization" once resulted in a three-week rewrite that made the renderer 400% faster. Nobody complained.
Nikita keeps the servers running so that nobody else has to think about them. He manages the entire fleet from a ThinkPad that has survived three offices. His monitoring dashboards have their own monitoring dashboards. He once detected a node failure four minutes before it happened. The team asked how. He said "the logs whisper." They decided to accept this.
Internal Affairs
There is a pattern at INEXX that the team has come to accept as an inevitable part of operations. Every few weeks, someone forgets the password to a critical XIX service account. Not a personal account — a company account. The kind with two-factor authentication enabled, a recovery email that nobody remembers setting up, and a backup code that was "definitely saved somewhere."
The recovery process is always the same: 45 minutes of trying old passwords, 15 minutes of blaming whoever set it up, and then the quiet resignation of creating an entirely new account from scratch. The old account is not deleted. It simply joins the graveyard of forgotten credentials — a growing list of orphaned logins that will never be accessed again.
At last count, there are at least seven abandoned XIX accounts across various services. Nobody knows the passwords. Nobody knows the recovery emails. The two-factor codes are on a phone that was factory reset in 2025. This is not negligence. This is tradition.
As of this writing, a new account cycle is beginning. The old one's password was last changed by someone who no longer remembers doing it. A fresh start, a clean slate, and a promise to "write this one down" — which, historically, has never once been followed through.
We are growing
Applications are opening soon. If you build things that should not be possible, we want to talk.