【Spending money still isn’t satisfying, huh?】
Seeing this comment from a big spender, other players were shocked.
Previously, they had criticized those match-3 games for being too difficult—impossible to play without investing money.
They thought these games deliberately suppressed free players.
But surprisingly, even the big spenders could play, and their gaming experience wasn’t any better.
On one side, the games were infuriatingly hard; on the other, the pay-to-win players were drained of energy, leaving it ambiguous who suffered more.
【Seriously, as game developers, how do you manage to make both free players and big spenders unhappy?】
【Mainly because those developers are terrible and clueless about trends. Slime Match-3 never treated players this badly.】
Indeed, players had come to define other match-3 games as torturous.
Having faced such frustration, the once-thriving player base quickly dispersed like a receding tide.
The other match-3 developers were stunned.
Because of pay-to-win restrictions, they had already shut out most players, and now, even the willing spenders were slipping away.
They had hoped to make a fortune this time, only for the game activity to turn from bustling to desolate within days.
Players returned to Slime Match-3, and perhaps due to the raised difficulty in other games, many who hadn’t spent before began to make small purchases.
Although each spent modestly, their numbers were large.
This “grain-by-grain makes a tower” effect caused a significant increase in in-game revenue on Jiang Rong’s game backend.
Further, after this event, complaints about Slime Match-3’s lack of purchasable energy decreased, and players began to take the game more seriously.
Slime Match-3 wasn’t that difficult; players simply hadn’t applied themselves before—playing half-heartedly while complaining about insufficient energy.
Now that they were earnest, they realized how much simpler and easier Slime Match-3 really was.
【I used to think Slime Match-3 was a bit tough, but after experiencing what’s truly hard, I realize how easy and relaxing Slime Match-3 really is.】
【Exactly, if you take Slime Match-3 seriously, you can get through it. Other match-3 games don’t even give free players a chance to clear levels.】
With such contrast, players grew to appreciate Slime Match-3 all the more.
As for those match-3 games that briefly stirred up waves, after losing their players, they had to quietly exit the market.
In her room, Jiang Rong yawned and stretched, loosening her muscles and sighed: “Finally wrapping up Match-3.”
She was busy with the final touches of Slime Match-3.
From now on, level updates wouldn’t require her intervention; once a certain percentage of players cleared levels, the game would update automatically.
Beyond that, Slime Match-3 would hold events and gift skins to players.
Jiang Rong input all these into the game management backend so players could trigger them naturally in the future.
In her free time, Jiang Rong also played Slime Match-3.
Without the identity of a developer, the game treated her equally, and with interstellar big data calculations, player levels refreshed differently each time.
Therefore, her speed wasn’t among the very fastest.
But she had no strong desire to compete—after all, it was her game.
While Jiang Rong immersed herself in the game, the backend suddenly received a report: a player reported an abnormal game account.
How abnormal? The account cleared levels in one shot, no breaks.
Since the account had been registered not long ago, nobody noticed at first.
But as the levels the account cleared grew higher and completion times shorter, players grew curious and surprised.
The report wasn’t out of malice but suspicion that it was a game bug.
After all, players found a bug more familiar and reassuring than someone breezing through levels effortlessly.
Jiang Rong thought the same, but after checking the backend carefully, she found nothing wrong.
“Is it truly possible for a human to clear levels nonstop like this?” Jiang Rong glanced toward the top of the level board.
Alongside familiar names like Bai Yang and Liang Man was a strange new name: 007.
“Could it be that this account isn’t human?”
“Mistakes are abilities only living beings have; machines don’t possess such talents.”
“Just like me,” Jiang Yu said coolly.
He could play Slime Match-3 at that level too.
“You mean there’s an AI robot behind this account?” Jiang Rong’s eyes widened.
Interstellar tech was highly advanced, robots were everywhere, including intelligent AI robots.
Still, even with intelligence, it was rare to associate them with in-game accounts.
“Maybe someone is testing the game with a robot. Should I run a scan?”
As the game system, Jiang Yu had this function.
Jiang Rong considered it and said, “Yes, pay close attention to accounts like this—if there are many, it means an organization is involved.”
Though she didn’t know why anyone would target her game.
“Scan results: only one,” Jiang Yu said after the check, falling silent.
“Just one? Looks like, even on the interstellar network’s other end, if it’s an AI robot, it’s an isolated incident.” Jiang Rong relaxed.
They replied honestly to the report.
After clearing the game’s highest level, the account quieted, no longer showing such exaggerated speed.
Meanwhile, Jiang Rong’s developer backend received an invitation letter.
It was from the December Game Platform, specially inviting her to participate in this year’s Annual Tournament.
If December Platform’s events happened monthly, the Annual Tournament occurred once per year.
The tournament had a dedicated platform named Carnival.
Though they were different types of platforms, December and Carnival weren’t rivals.
Their relationship was more like a relay race.
Thus, December Platform sent Jiang Rong the invitation letter for Carnival’s Annual Tournament.
“Carnival is a bigger platform than December, with more players.”
“Competition rules limit participants to those graduated within five years, and games developed within one year,” Jiang Yu explained after investigating.
Compared to December Platform’s one-year graduate limit, Carnival allowed up to five years.
As for games, both old and new ones could enter, as long as the game was made within the past year.
“Are you going to enter with Slime Match-3 or develop a new game?” Jiang Yu asked Jiang Rong.
Slime Match-3 wasn’t yet a year old, so it qualified.
“I plan to make a new game and already have ideas,” Jiang Rong smiled lightly.
Rather than resting on her laurels, she wanted to challenge herself.
Slime Match-3 itself wasn’t complicated to develop; for Jiang Rong as a game creator, it was just an appetizer, not the main course.
“What type of game will the new one be?” Jiang Yu asked curiously.
Jiang Rong lowered her eyes and pondered softly, “It hasn’t been fully decided yet. I’ll need to do some targeted research before finalizing it.”
With that, Jiang Rong quickly got to work.
Jiang Yu leaned over and glanced at the materials she was consulting, his eyes widening in surprise.
On the December Game Platform side, after receiving Jiang Rong’s confirmation for the competition, her name soon appeared on the participant list for the Carnival Annual Tournament.
However, since Carnival had far more contestants, Jiang Rong’s name was like a drop in the ocean—barely noticeable.
At the same time, Carnival began to warm up for the tournament with an overwhelming promotional campaign across the Star Network.
Players from December and other platforms couldn’t help but be drawn in.
“The yearly Carnival Annual Tournament is here again. I wonder how many exciting games will debut this time.”
“Many of December’s monthly champions qualify to compete too.”
When Liang Man and her friend saw the Carnival Annual Tournament promos, they exchanged glances. “Will Jiang Rong participate?”
As fans, they held some hopeful expectations.
They visited the Carnival Game Platform to check the contestants’ roster.
Since the registration deadline hadn’t passed yet, this wasn’t the final list.
Finding Jiang Rong’s name brought joy; not finding it wouldn’t disappoint them.
To their surprise, their search showed Jiang Rong’s name.
“It’s great to see Jiang Rong will compete in this year’s Carnival Annual Tournament,” Liang Man and her friend couldn’t help but high-five in celebration.
Around them were players cheering for other contestants.
Not only were they celebrating, but also campaigning live for their favored developers.
“Please support developer Hu Song! A graduate from a prestigious school, Hu Song has been a developer for years and competed multiple times in the Carnival Annual Tournament. Playing his games guarantees a satisfying experience!”
“Take a look at developer Chang Jiu—although a recent graduate, they have won multiple monthly competitions on the December platform. Their entry this time will definitely be fun.”
Accompanying the endorsements, cheers echoed around.
“Hu Song’s competing again this year; definitely worth backing!”
“Go Chang Jiu, charge!”
Alongside the applause, a holographic screen displayed contestants’ support rates.
These rates indirectly reflected their popularity and strength; soon some developers’ support rates surged.
Hu Song and Chang Jiu, whose names appeared most often, enjoyed a clear lead.
Liang Man and her friend wanted to compete; they contacted Bai Yang and other players to rally support for Jiang Rong.
Unfortunately, despite their numbers, the support rate couldn’t elevate Jiang Rong to a popular status.
They tried campaigning for Jiang Rong like others but with little success.
“Jiang Rong? That name is unfamiliar; probably just an insignificant newbie developer.”
“I’m not interested in unknown developers.”
“What achievements do your developers have to show?”
“Our developers have won December’s monthly competition,” Liang Man and company took a deep breath and responded steadily.
“A monthly championship isn’t much. In fact, it barely meets the Carnival annual tournament’s qualification. Only developers like Chang Jiu, with multiple monthly wins, can attract substantial support. One monthly championship isn’t impressive.”
“That’s true. One monthly win isn’t enough. It’s not that your developers are bad, but others have richer, shinier records.”
“Generally, your developers will end up as participation finalists at Carnival. If the results underperform, it might hurt their morale. Perhaps you should have your developers gain more experience for a few years; that way their chances improve.”
Some players kindly suggested.
Based on past Carnival Annual Tournament experiences, newcomers rarely shine.
Poor results might dampen developers’ spirits most of all.
“We don’t have high expectations for our developers’ performance this time; we just worry about pressuring them too much. As for their mindset, we’ll pass on your encouragement,” Liang Man and others felt a pang of anxiety.
Finally, the group selected Bai Yang to check in with Jiang Rong personally.
Bai Yang returned quickly, his expression faintly dazed.
“Jiang Rong said participation matters most. Regarding results, she’ll do her best, but even if she fails, she won’t be discouraged.”
“Looks like Jiang Rong has a great attitude. Anything else?” Liang Man noticed Bai Yang’s unusual countenance.
“Jiang Rong said she’ll compete with a new game,” Bai Yang muttered with surprise.
Liang Man and company were stunned. “She’s not using Slime Match-3?”
They had assumed Jiang Rong would enter the Carnival Annual Tournament with Slime Match-3, but that wasn’t the case.