Yin Jian found himself transported to the interstellar era. Here, every single game required payment—there was no such thing as piracy. Thus, one after another, high-quality free games emerged from his hands. Yin Jian declared, “What I’m creating isn’t just games, but dreams. Don’t talk to me about money; bringing up money just hurts feelings.” Player 1 cried, “Boo hoo, Teacher Yin isn’t making games—he’s doing charity work.” Player 2 added, “I don’t even know how I managed to spend over ten thousand on a free game, but I’ll praise Mr. Yin’s games to the skies!” Game events included: a ten-minute trial card for skins, purchase now for an immediate twenty percent discount! Log in to receive a free lottery draw, and your first ten consecutive draws guarantee a golden reward! Register to become a lifetime member, and your first ten credits grant eighteen privileges at once! Yin Jian mused, “The most expensive things are always free.” PS: The story mainly focuses on the process of game creation and the hilarious adventures of eccentric players.
Yin Jian sat on the last subway train of midnight. His eyes were vacant, staring up at the ceiling.
Today marked the third day since his graduation—and also his third day of unemployment.
He was living in the interstellar era, a time when humanity had long since accomplished the grand feat of immigrating throughout the universe. In such an age, any profession closely linked to the internet was said to be as lucrative as filling sacks with money.
As a transmigrant from Earth, Yin Jian had mapped out his future by the age of six: he would become a game operations specialist.
This plan had proceeded smoothly all through his university years. Yet, the very job he once considered a golden ticket had now become impossible to attain—he had scoured the entire Xiahua Star Domain, but not a single listed game company was willing to hire him.
"Sorry, we're looking for candidates with at least three years of experience. If you want to join our company, you should gain experience elsewhere for three years and then reapply for our assessment."
"A recent graduate? If you can pay a monthly training fee of one thousand cosmic credits, we can arrange a three-month internship for you."
"Free games? The future market trend? Are you kidding? Who will support the company if everything is free? If you're out of your mind, don't come here."
The rejections were endless.
Yin Jian found it absurd. What on earth was wrong with this society? Why was there such open hostility toward graduates? When woul