[As the saying goes, no investment, no return.]
[If you give players one Special Pass, you can earn thousands or even tens of thousands of times the faith back!]
Lingzhou fell into thought.
He definitely couldn’t simply throw rewards at players randomly.
Nor could he distribute too many at once.
The moment a game resource stopped feeling valuable—
Its perceived worth collapsed.
Most live-service gacha games spent a large portion of their lifespan in content drought.
Whenever a new version released, most meaningful content could usually be consumed within a week.
Then players simply waited for the next banner.
Permanent content with long-term value was critical for retention.
So what kind of system should he create?
Lingzhou reviewed the game data.
After thinking for a while, he quickly came up with an idea.
There was no need to interfere with systems like Simulated Universe or Forgotten Hall.
It would also be difficult to naturally insert himself into those systems.
In that case—
Why not copy daily activity missions?
He could create a personal daily check-in system.
Players only needed to speak with him once per day to check in.
Each check-in would award a random reward.
If Stellar Jade and other gacha resources were part of the prize pool—
There was absolutely no concern about whether players would return the favor emotionally.
Lingzhou immediately began designing his personal daily check-in system and pushed it live.
The random reward pool was simple.
First—
Stellar Jade.
Five tiers.
10
50
100
160
1600
Naturally, the better the reward, the lower the chance.
Per server, no more than ten players per day could win the 1600 Stellar Jade reward.
Star Rail Special Passes and regular Star Rail Passes were also included.
Three tiers.
1
3
10
A ten-pull worth of Special Passes had roughly the same probability as 1600 Stellar Jade.
Regular Passes were somewhat easier.
Beyond that, Lingzhou designed a guaranteed minimum reward.
60 Trailblaze Power.
The in-universe justification was even easier.
He was the Express doctor.
He possessed methods that could help people relax, ease mental fatigue, and recover from exhaustion.
If exhaustion was relieved—
Then stamina naturally recovered.
Simple.
Sixty Trailblaze Power as the baseline.
Low-probability random prizes as excitement.
Even players without an active monthly subscription would probably log in every day to test their luck.
As the saying went—
How could anyone stay motivated if life gave them nothing to look forward to?
Once it became a habit—
Players naturally wouldn’t forget the character who gave them something nice every day.
After finishing the check-in system, Lingzhou closed the editor in satisfaction.
His phone rang.
“Herta?”
“What do you want?”
“Come to my office.”
“What fo— Hm?”
Lingzhou looked at the call that had already ended.
His eyes rolled slightly.
Self-centered brat.
So being a genius made you special?
What was little old #83 in comparison?
Complaining aside, Lingzhou didn’t ignore the request.
Herta was still a genius who maintained decent relations with the Astral Express.
That connection could be useful both inside and outside the game.
He passed through the automatic door and entered Herta’s office.
“If you’ve got something to say, just—”
Lingzhou stopped.
“Hah.”
“I knew it was you, Aha!”
Herta’s slightly annoyed but unsurprised voice echoed through the room.
Then another strange voice resounded from everywhere at once.
“You believed it?”
“Look at that.”
“The Simulated Universe’s computational power is flowing here like the patterns on a lollipop.”
“What?”
“You knew He wouldn’t answer you with a ‘haha’?”
Anyone else might have failed to recognize the owner of that strange voice.
Lingzhou was far too familiar with it.
He had just started quietly backing toward the door—
When he felt a gaze from beyond the sea of stars fall upon him.
How many reincarnations had it been?
Yet this damned Aha recognized him every single time.
Herta’s attention was currently elsewhere.
She snorted.
“Hah.”
“You really think I believed you?”
“Machinehead never answers.”
“Questions and doubt are the essence of thought.”
“No taboos.”
“No borders.”
“No end—”
“Unless Nous suddenly quits.”
“Aha has no face.”
The strange voice echoed again.
“I won’t bother you anymore.”
“I’m leaving.”
Herta:
“You can’t leave.”
“At least not like this.”
“As compensation, you’re answering one question.”
“No jokes.”
Aha:
“Whenever mortals think, Machinehead laughs.”
“How about becoming a Masked Fool?”
“Let me look at you once.”
“I guarantee happiness every day~~”
The lifelike Herta puppet’s face displayed an equally lifelike twitch.
Then she barked irritably.
“Get lost!”
“I want Idrila!”
“Nyehehehe.”
“Aha is rolling away right now.”
“Ahhh~~”
“Someone told Aha to get lost.”
“Aha has so much face~~”
Lingzhou, standing off to the side:
“…”
You’d better actually leave.
You plague-ridden laughing mask.
Herta exited the Simulated Universe program.
Then she turned toward the man currently sitting on top of her desk.
Her lips curled downward.
“Rude.”
“A guest is a guest.”
Lingzhou replied lazily.
“Who told you to have an office without a single chair for visitors?”
“Why would puppets need chairs?”
“Forget it.”
“You helped quite a few people on the station.”
“I’ll overlook the manners.”
“Tell me.”
“What reward do you want?”
The Antimatter Legion’s attack had caused substantial damage to the Space Station.
Herta didn’t care about most of it.
But at the very least—
Lingzhou had prevented the Stellaron from exploding.
She cared about that.
Otherwise, it would have been another irritating mess.
“Give me one of your puppets.”
“The drink-making machine on the Express unfortunately developed a language module.”
“It’s not very useful anymore.”
“You mean the one Himeko mentioned?”
“The one people keep telling to shut up?”
“Correct.”
“No prize.”
Herta grew even more speechless.
“You want to use one of my puppets to replace it?”
“Not that I’m looking down on you, but can you even maintain one of my puppets?”
Lingzhou answered with complete confidence.
“Exactly.”
“That’s the problem.”
“Giving me a puppet is easy.”
“But I can’t bring it back here every time it needs maintenance.”
“For something made by the great Madam Herta, isn’t that pathetic?”
Herta’s eyes narrowed.
“Making a perfect puppet isn’t difficult.”
“But why would I bother making a puppet perfect?”
“I’m already perfect.”
At this point, Herta seemed to lose patience.
“Enough nonsense.”
“My time is valuable.”
“If you want a puppet, take one.”
“If not, ask for something else.”
“Then I don’t want it.”
Herta:
“???”
“Give Stelle that curio baseball bat.”
“And the Light Cone she was using earlier.”
“Count those as my reward.”
Herta looked up in genuine surprise.
Then examined Lingzhou.
“That’s it?”
“You know how it is.”
“The kid was only born recently.”
“She needs proper equipment to protect herself.”
Lingzhou looked completely sincere.
“Fine.”
“They’re gathering dust in the collection room anyway.”
“But you’re that certain she’ll board the train?”
Herta raised an eyebrow.
Then smiled with interest.
“Actually…”
“The hidden meaning behind your words is that you want her to freely choose her own future, isn’t it?”
Lingzhou didn’t deny it.
He smiled.
“Whether she boards the train or not…”
“That’s her choice.”
The negotiation ended quickly.
Lingzhou had barely stepped out of Herta’s office when an eerie mask suddenly appeared directly in front of his face.
“DARLING!”
“AHA IS HERE!!”
HonkaiStarRail Gacha Character,I’m Here to Break the Players’ Hearts [ 112 Chapter ]
I’m in Honkai, but Integrated Strategies Has Begun [ Ss3 105 Chapter ]