To ascend, I had no choice but to create games

Chapter 49: Chapter 49: The Troubles of Happiness 1

Translator: 549K<3O«a I  —

After a month of meticulous polishing, coupled with Fang Cheng’s comprehensive “program” support, this game that Fang Cheng Studio invested the most in since its establishment just went live and set off a blast in the gaming world.

Beyond the new modes, new characters were also introduced.

With Chen Liang’s strong support, the original four characters expanded to eight.

And to answer the players’ calls, all the newly added were female characters. The Dragon Girl, skilled in long-distance spells, with an ethereal appearance and a hint of celestial dragon traits.

A master of mechanical techniques, the small-statured yet exceptionally flirtatious Mo Family Heir comes with a buy-one-get-one-free offer: her big sister’s vehicle.

The creepy Meng Po, who could revive enemy statues as puppets, ‘Po’ as in the ‘Po’ of ‘wife’.

The cheerful Gu Master, whose devious means of poisoning and using gu are filled with mysteries, offering an absolutely adorable contrast that is bound to surprise people to the max.

The four female characters are full of personality, each with a different feel and their secret weapons are astonishing, definitely giving players the best experience!

The expanded system didn’t adopt the common fighter-mage-healer structure but added special jobs according to Fang Cheng’s “actual experience,” which should allow for unique tactics.

Moreover, to meet Fang Cheng’s desire to have players enjoy meditation, there will be close-up feature shots of them meditating, prompting players to comment that this cameraperson really understands the language of angles. Additionally, to complement the new characters, the number of cultivation techniques has also doubled. New terrains like volcanoes, oceans, and icy snowscapes have been added, offering not just a feast of content but also a fresh feel for players, even those who were satiated by the beta version, who now admit collectively that the money was well spent.

Huang Ping’s other contribution was persuading Fang Cheng to implement a pass system.

The monthly 15-yuan pass isn’t expensive but it allows for a 20% increase in earnings per game. The currency earned can be used to purchase character skins and outfits, and various weapon effects can also be bought with the currency.

New characters that appear later can also be purchased with currency; more features are still in development.

The reason for adding a pass system is to generate a steady income for the game, which greatly increases the studio’s risk resistance so that even if the game fails, they will have enough cash flow to rest and recuperate before making a comeback.

The game’s launch time was set for Friday morning at 10 a.m.

When the countdown ended, Xu Qingling was glued to her screen on the Steam platform, clutching her little dinosaur pillow, staring intently at the backend data.

The refresh button was nearly worn out by her, and even though she knew it was pointless, she couldn’t help but keep refreshing it relentlessly, eager to know just how many people were buying their game.

“Xu, chill out. Our game has such good quality, the sales won’t be low,” Huang Ping said while sipping tea.

“If you’re not nervous, then go write the documentation,” Xu retorted with narrowed eyes.

Huang Ping set down his teacup and bowed his head, conceding he was wrong to show off.

Xiao Douzi had lost her mood to joke, and Chen Liang began scratching his chin every half minute, looking more and more like a monkey.

The only calm one was Fang Cheng himself. After all, if this game failed to prove itself, he no longer cared about the sales, he might even be a little glad. But things wouldn’t go as he thought.

From the moment it officially went live, the game’ s sales did nothing but soar. “Princess Dungeon,” from its launch to the present, had already broken through four hundred thousand copies, a small miracle in the world of indie games.

But today, everyone witnessed what a true miracle is.

“Quiet Cultivation,” first-day sales, three hundred and fifty thousand copies. The next day was Saturday, and the streamers who had gotten the game began broadcasting it en masse. It didn’t matter if you had skills or not, as long as you were streaming “Quiet Cultivation,” you had traffic! You were our half­brother, half-sister from another mother!

Some female streamers originally intended to toe the line as before, playing games while offering perks on the side.

But the viewers entering the stream were all saying, “Streamer, you’re in the way—please make the screen bigger and just sit in the corner.”

Even some female streamers discovered their ace gaming skills, deciding to dress properly and focus on the gameplay, a compelling story of game streamers going straight.

After two days of fermenting, players realized that Fang Cheng Studio was a good comrade.

The price tag of 128 was without a drop of water, just like ordinary games where high school students flirt and hold hands to pass the day, but this game was like four hungry men and women pouncing on you, dragging you into the bridal chamber and refusing to let you out for three days and nights.

The game is good, but let’s not be so wild next time.

The word-of-mouth promotion started to ferment, and the more than one hundred thousand outstanding reviews directly catapulted “Quiet Cultivation” into the eyes of even more gamers, driving them further into a frenzy.

Domestic gamers had truly been desolate for too long.

Now, upon encountering a top-quality game, they found themselves like parched land greeting the rain, like travelers in a foreign land coming upon old friends, like spending a wedding night in the bridal chamber, like achieving top ranks and feasting on chicken.

The weekend passed, and Monday arrived.

The first thing Xu Qingling did when she came to work on Monday was to turn on her computer, check the number of purchasers, and then she gasped in astonishment.

The game had already hit a million downloads and was now charging uncontested towards two million, its momentum unstoppable and sharp as bamboo breaking through.

The explosive sales brought profits; although it was only a small target, it made Xu Qingling once again aware of Fang Cheng’s potential, and her heart raced even faster when she looked at him.

Talent and looks, forever the greatest attractions for a man.

Aside from Xu Qingling, Huang Ping was similarly unable to contain his excitement.

Most of the studio’s information was transparent, with game sales and profit- sharing proportions clearly stored in company documents, accessible to everyone.

Calculating his own share of the profits, Huang Ping found he could actually go back and buy a house outright, and he could even afford to buy his parents a new home nearby, letting them also enjoy a more comfortable life.

He had been involved in several major releases at Tianyi, but Tianyi’s producers were tightfisted with money. Even for popular titles, his own bonus was only twenty or thirty thousand a month.

And for that, he had to be grateful to the production team for not firing them on the spot after the game was released, since the prevalent practice of discarding someone once they’ve served their purpose was all too common.

Xiao Douzi was used to it, but Chen Liang was not.

Seeing the sudden increase in his account balance, he found Fang Cheng and stammered, “Sword Immortal Master…”

“Don’t call me Master,” Fang Cheng said, correcting him helplessly, “We’re not that deeply bonded.”

“Okay, Boss, the money…”

“Not enough? Then I can lend you some more?”

“No, it’s not that. I’m just an intern, can interns also get a bonus?”

Only then did Fang Cheng realize, and he said to Xu Qingling, “Xu Qingling, could you please make Chen Liang a full-time employee?”

“Sure.”

Seeing the genuine Fang Cheng and the eager Xu who helped him get a full- time position, Chen Liang felt his boss was quite peculiar.

But a good kind of peculiar.

After receiving his share of the profits, Chen Liang counted the zeroes for a long while, then chuckled to himself just as long.

His parents had divorced when he was fourteen, and after they both started new families, they stopped caring about whether he lived or died, not even providing him with living expenses.

Afterward, he roamed around internet cafes, earned money by collecting bottles for others, and occasionally did power leveling. That’s how he idled away until he was fifteen.

After being picked up by a coach and taken to a training center, he started training every day. His monthly pocket money was only three hundred and fifty yuan, but since the center provided food and lodging, he didn’t have many expenses.

This was the first time he’d ever seen such a large amount of money.

Seeing this money, he began to struggle with one thing.

At the end of the year, should he really go back?

If he earned a bit more and then took the money back, it seemed like he could reduce some of the coach’s burdens.

Staring at his bonus, Monkey fell into the sweet torment of happiness.