Xia Shang’s company was already worth over 100 billion, making the stake put up for the bet worth more than 10 billion. Once news of this spread, it quickly captured the public’s attention.
Between Lu Shen and Xia Shang, most people generally favored Xia Shang.
However, this time was different. When people discovered that “Shangzhou Games” was merely a newly restructured startup, many shifted their bets to Lu Shen.
The reasoning was simple: making a good game requires time and effort at every stage—topic selection and planning at the start; programming, background art, character design, and modeling in the middle; and testing and promotion at the end.
While they believed Shangzhou Games would thrive eventually with Xia Shang as its backer, they assumed that would require years of technical accumulation—not a miracle profit of 200 million within a single year.
…
“Jiang Zhou is developing a new game?” Bai Xiaorou had also heard the news. Under her interference, the investors for Kyushu had changed, making her extra attentive to industry news. “Do you know what kind of game she’s making?”
Lu Shen tossed his coat aside and loosened his tie, his tone casual. “Some kind of management sim? Primitive world setting? It’s only been two months; she’s probably still writing the script.”
“A primitive world?” Bai Xiaorou’s brow furrowed. If she remembered correctly, in her previous life, Kyushu had announced a major plan to develop a PC game with a primitive world setting after the success of their “Doomsday” game.
“Don’t worry, Jiang Zhou can’t produce anything substantial in a year. I’m guaranteed to win this bet,” Lu Shen said relaxedly. “Isn’t Kyushu about to release a new game? Why don’t we just put out a mobile ‘Primitive Society Survival’ game? Write some plot, swap out the maps and settings from the Doomsday game, and call it a new title.”
“That’s just a ‘reskin’ game…” Bai Xiaorou hesitated. She didn’t know much about Kyushu Games, other than the fact that the Doomsday game would bring in massive profits.
“It’s just a game; they’re all like that. It’s all about early-stage profit,” Lu Shen said dismissively. Kyushu was profitable, sure, but Xia Shang’s corporation was his true target.
Compared to a game company worth a few hundred million, a multi-industry conglomerate worth over 100 billion was far more worthy of his schemes.
“Fine, I’ll pass the requirements to the R&D department.” In Bai Xiaorou’s mind, Lu Shen was far more capable than her. Whenever they disagreed, she instinctively deferred to him.
…
How could Jiang Zhou allow herself to lose? If for nothing else, Xia Shang’s words—”I trust you”—meant she would never permit failure. Thus, the day after the bet took effect, she dove headfirst into the Shangzhou Games.
As a new manager, standard procedure usually involved building rapport with mid-to-senior staff—organizing team-building events, dinners, and drinks to get to know one another.
But Jiang Zhou didn’t have that kind of time. Upon arriving at the R&D department, she used her technical skills to utterly crush everyone in the room. Then, she handpicked the most capable ones to form a core task force.
Jiang Zhou wrote the core code herself, while the simpler parts were delegated down the chain. She implemented a “996” schedule (9 AM to 9 PM, 6 days a week).
Excluding meals and necessary breaks, the team members spent nearly nine hours a day coding. They arrived full of energy and left completely drained.
Did they complain? Naturally. They weren’t robots; they were human beings.
Did they slack off or quit? Impossible. Why? Because they weren’t about to give up a salary that was triple their previous pay!
In their old company, an eight-hour day involved maybe five hours of real work. Now, their salary had tripled while their working hours had only doubled. The more they thought about it, the better the deal seemed!
Jiang Zhou’s physical condition was excellent, and with meals specially prepared by a nutritionist, the overtime wasn’t a problem. However…
“Are you going back to the office in a bit?” Xia Shang asked, silently peeling shrimp. The peeled shrimp were already piling up in a small dish.
“Hmm…” Jiang Zhou thought for a moment. “My progress is a bit ahead of the others. I don’t need to go in tonight.”
“You’re staying?” Xia Shang’s eyes lit up.
Usually, Jiang Zhou finished at 9 PM and got home after 10 PM. Since she had to wake up early the next day, Xia Shang always restrained herself. They really only got to be “wild” on Saturday nights and Sundays.
“Yes, my whole evening is yours~” Jiang Zhou said without hesitation. Pleasure was mutual, after all. What Xia Shang wanted, she wanted too—though she felt she might be enjoying it just a little bit more.
“Good.” Xia Shang didn’t say much, but her hands moved faster to peel the shrimp. You need strength to work, after all!
…
To profit 200 million within a year, the game had to be finished early. The faster it was completed, the longer the window for profit.
With Jiang Zhou acting as a “cheat code” for R&D, Shangzhou Games announced the successful development of the game after only six months. The game, titled World, began its closed beta.
Jiang Zhou didn’t skimp on promotion. She threw 10 million into advertising across all channels and invited several famous streamers to participate in the beta.
The beta opened 1,000 slots and featured the “Primitive World” map.
Immediately after Shangzhou announced their beta, Kyushu Games officially launched their Primitive Survival mobile game. They also spent heavily on promotion and hired streamers to showcase the gameplay.
The two companies were going head-to-head.
Compared to the unknown Shangzhou Games, Kyushu had the player base from their Doomsday game. Upon launch, downloads exceeded one million, and both livestreams and strategy videos were trending.
In contrast, Shangzhou’s World had a massive world-building scope that required players to explore and develop slowly. Being a PC game with complex controls, its initial heat couldn’t match the public launch of Primitive Survival.
“Boss, this mobile game is clearly ripping off our theme. They’re stealing our thunder,” the Marketing Director said indignantly. “This Kyushu is shameless. They call it a new game, but it’s just a reskin of their Doomsday game with a few prettier character illustrations.”
Jiang Zhou laughed. “You can see it, and so can everyone else. Players aren’t idiots.”
“Should we expose the truth?” the Director asked.
“No rush. Wait for the internet to catch on,” Jiang Zhou glanced at the data on her tablet. The growth of Primitive Survival was already slowing down. “We still have six months. Plenty of time.”
Jiang Zhou set the beta period for one month. In the first week, World was overshadowed. However, after the initial exploration phase, the gameplay depth suddenly exploded. Its popularity surged, and by the end of the second week, it was neck-and-neck with Primitive Survival.
“We can’t let Shangzhou’s game take off.” Lu Shen had been monitoring the world. Seeing its rising popularity, he grew irritable. “Go hire some internet trolls to manipulate public opinion on Weibo. Our game must crush theirs.”
“Director Lu, some players are already complaining that Primitive Survival’s gameplay is identical to the Doomsday game,” Kyushu’s Marketing Director said hesitantly.
“So what? It’s the same R&D team; it’s normal for work to be similar.” Lu Shen didn’t care about “reskinning.” Most domestic games were like that—as long as they made money.
“Did any of our moles successfully get into the Shangzhou Games?”
“Three did, but they’re just peripheral members of the R&D department. They only write basic code,” the Director replied.
Lu Shen raised an eyebrow. “Is it hard to sabotage?”
“Basic code doesn’t offer much room for manipulation, and everything is double-checked by specialists before submission…”
“Useless.” Lu Shen’s face darkened. “Tell our people with beta access to take action. Since the game has a PVP system, have them camp at the respawn points and kill players repeatedly. Ruin their experience.”
“Understood. I’ll arrange it immediately.”
…
Meanwhile, having finished the bulk of the development, Jiang Zhou was finally free. She stayed home to teach Xia Shang how to play.
“Do it like this: basic attack, backstep, then trigger the skill. That’ll knock them down.” Jiang Zhou was incredibly patient, never minding the time spent on Xia Shang.
Xia Shang stared at the screen with a serious face, her hands slightly stiff on the keyboard. She moved only when Jiang Zhou instructed.
“Here, relax.” Jiang Zhou placed her hand over Xia Shang’s. Their hands were similar in size—white, slender, and well-manicured.
Xia Shang hummed in response, letting her fingers rest lightly on the keys, treating her own hands like a keyboard for Jiang Zhou to operate.
“See that person ahead? He’s at the player respawn point. He’s likely ‘camping’ people,” Jiang Zhou stood behind Xia Shang, her arms encircling her perfectly to guide her hands.
Just then, Jiang Zhou’s phone rang. It was someone from the Marketing Department.
“Hello, it’s me. What’s up?” Jiang Zhou let go with one hand to answer. “Oh? That’s happening? Where? I’ll go take a look.”
“I’ll handle it. You keep an eye on public opinion.” Jiang Zhou ended the call quickly.
“Is there a problem with the game?” Xia Shang turned to look at her.
“A small issue. Perfect for a live lesson.” Jiang Zhou stole a quick kiss, then controlled the character to teleport.
…
In the game: 【Wow, camping respawn points even in beta? This ruins the game experience.】 【What kind of game is this? If my reflexes are bad, am I just paying to get bullied?】 【This game is trash. The player protection is pathetic. If you aren’t a pro gamer, don’t bother.】
The streamer “007,” who was live-streaming the beta, began to sweat. “Everyone, don’t panic! This is just the beta. If something’s wrong, Shangzhou Games will definitely adjust it.”
【As I thought, ‘Primitive Survival’ is better. Quiet exploration and the girls are pretty.】 【The person above is being biased. This is a PC game; richer gameplay means higher difficulty.】
“I’ve observed them. Their gear is similar to mine; their class just has a slight advantage and they’re in better condition.” 007 was a veteran gamer. After being killed five or six times, he steadied himself. He made his character stand up and charged again.
After three minutes of fighting, the streamer died again.
【Streamer is a noob. The game is trash. I’m out.】 【Boring. I’m going back to ‘Primitive Survival.’ I heard there’s a new map and the NPC is a hot girl.】
“Don’t go! We lasted longer this time. Next time for sure!” the streamer pleaded.
【Wait, 007, look! Someone’s coming.】 【Is a fan here to save him?】 【Looks like starter gear. Probably just more fodder.】
The streamer started typing to warn the newcomer about the malicious campers, but before he could finish, he saw the “newbie” pull a wooden club from their back and charge.
“Guess we’ll have to try together,” the streamer sighed, deleting his message. “With two of us, maybe…”
【Look! This is a pro!】 【Damn! Those moves are so cool!】 【Judging by the damage, they aren’t cheating—they’re just a god-tier player!】
Before the streamer could even decide whether to respawn and help, the “newbie” had already beaten the camper into a “critically wounded” state.
“Holy cow! Awesome!” 007 respawned immediately, his fingers flying across the keyboard to “beg for a carry.”
The newcomer was, of course, Jiang Zhou. Having heard about the organized camping, she decided to log in and retaliate. As the developer, she knew every stat, skill, and piece of gear by heart. Even at a numerical disadvantage, she could win through pure skill.
“This person was likely sent by a competitor to cause trouble,” Jiang Zhou explained to Xia Shang, killing the camper again just as they tried to get up.
“Want to try?” Jiang Zhou let go, handing over full control.
“Okay, I’ll try.” Xia Shang licked her lower lip, recalling Jiang Zhou’s movements.
As soon as Xia Shang took over, the character became visibly clumsier. Damage output dropped, and she started losing health.
【God must be lagging! I’ll help!】 007 pulled out his dagger and charged in, finally helping to bring the enemy down again after a struggle.
[007]: God, God! Please carry me! Take me with you! [XiaJiang]: Duel? [007]: Sure!
007’s skills were better than Xia Shang’s. After a scuffle, Xia Shang’s health bar was nearly empty.
[007]: Uh, God… are you really lagging? [XiaJiang]: No. My girlfriend is playing now. I’m teaching her. [007]: …Suddenly choked on dog food. God, you have no heart! [XiaJiang]: I have no heart; my heart is already with my girlfriend. [007]: …
The viewers in the livestream were dying of laughter, pitying the single-dog streamer and completely forgetting the previous frustration.
[007]: God, talking like that makes people want to hit you. [XiaJiang]: Oh. You can’t beat me. [XiaJiang]: And soon, you won’t be able to beat my girlfriend, either.
Listen to that—is that even human speech?!