Chapter 130: Essentials of Crafting

Yin Jian read the message sent by Yu Jia over and over again.

His brow furrowed tightly.

The competition for Reality Games hosted by Qi You had numerous restrictions. One of them, in particular, completely barred him from applying his "free-to-play" philosophy.

"It feels like my hands are tied."

After pondering deeply for a long while, he still had no good ideas. Yet, he did not want to give up this opportunity to adapt a Reality Game. The commission from such an adaptation could make him wealthy overnight.

Five hundred billion?

No. If he could secure this Reality Game adaptation opportunity, let alone five hundred billion, even one trillion would be a trivial matter.

However, according to the description in the file Yu Jia had sent him, the competition for this event would be unprecedented. Every top-tier master and Platinum-ranked designer would be his rival.

"This is going to be tough..."

Yin Jian sat in his chair, lost in thought. Finding no inspiration, he rose and entered his gaming pod, intending to visit other Reality Games to gather material and see if he could spark some creativity.

As for his own game, *Cultivation Family*, currently on the market, he no longer had the heart to pay it much attention. After all, it only brought in a mere few tens of billions a year—hardly comparable to a trillion-dollar deal.

Entering the virtual space, Yin Jian skillfully opened the list of Reality Games. This was a built-in feature of the game field; any released Reality Game could be found here.

He browsed casually. Many were of the tourism variety, such as "Heaven on Earth," which offered the ultimate sensory experience of taste. Others were adrenaline-fueled adventure games. These types were not within the scope of his research, as such life-simulation games were already dominated by major corporations, and making a copycat would be nearly impossible to surpass.

"If I'm going to do it, I have to do something original."

With that thought, Yin Jian filtered the list and clicked into one that piqued his interest.

...

In a residential complex on White Bridge Star, a 180-pound man with delicate skin and charming dimples stared at the message on his screen, his light-colored brows knitted together.

Qing Zhu: Are you participating in the Reality Game competition?

His eyes remained fixed on the message for a long time, frozen in place. He was conflicted. Within his heart, two voices were at war. One urged him to accept; the other warned him that the risk was too great.

As for the nature of that risk, it was a concern shared by every master-level designer: the fear that a new game would fail to live up to the previous one. There were even cases where a new game’s performance was so disastrous it tarnished the reputation of a high-level designer. This was the dilemma all masters faced. Every new release had to be the result of careful deliberation and extensive polishing.

"I really envy that reckless drive of 'Scum Dog'," Jian Qi muttered to himself.

The guy had just produced a smash hit, and only a few days after its release, he was already working on a new one. Not even a donkey on a production team was that diligent. What made him especially envious was that the performance of the other's game continued to rise steadily.

To date, Jian Qi had produced two games. The first had established his reputation, but when he made the second, he had been filled with immense confidence, even dreaming of achieving a Platinum title. Reality, however, had slapped him hard in the face. While the second game wasn't a total flop—it had performed decently—it was far inferior to the first. Because of this, his confidence had been severely wounded, to the point where he hadn't dared to create a new game for a long time. Every time he had a good idea, he would negate it himself before even starting.

"Sigh..." Jian Qi let out a heavy breath. He felt that if things continued this way, he would eventually be washed up.

At this thought, the look in his eyes shifted. After a deep breath, he tapped his fingers rapidly across the screen. Despite his slight chubbiness, his fingers were quite nimble. In less than three seconds, he sent his response to Qing Zhu.

Once finished, he silently closed the chat window and opened a folder. It did not contain rare study materials, but rather the various ideas he had accumulated over the years.

For this competition, he would give it his all. Success would make him the number one in Qi You; failure would mean cutting ties with the game design industry forever!

...

Time passed quickly. Soon, a month and a half had slipped by.

In the apartment, Yin Jian tossed aside another finished notebook. Looking toward the corner of the wall, there were already over a dozen notebooks piled up, each at least a finger thick. These were the fruits of his labor over the past few days—all his insights and thoughts after playing through various Reality Games.

Yet, despite summarizing so much, there was not a trace of joy or satisfaction on Yin Jian's face. He still had no lead for the game he needed to make for the competition. He had plans, of course, but those were games he wanted to make for himself, not for Qi You.

"It’s already May. The announcement for the competition should be released soon, and the selection process should start in early June." Yin Jian felt the time pressure mounting. "If there's really no other way, I'll have to use that plan of mine."

He sighed and, instead of entering the gaming pod as he usually did, he took out a fresh notebook, intending to summarize his findings.

First was the gameplay mode of Reality Games. Because they were directly linked to reality, they could not be like single-player games. Balance was especially crucial; only with balanced data across all aspects could a game develop long-term.

"Do I need a protagonist?"

In all the narrative-driven Reality Games he had played over the past few days, there were native protagonists who dictated the progression of the plot. But after thinking for a moment, Yin Jian crossed the words "protagonist" out of his notebook. While having a protagonist made the game's progress controllable, it wasn't an absolute requirement. It depended on the game itself.

As he was writing, his brain-computer chimed with a notification. Being interrupted made him frown, but it quickly smoothed out. He checked the screen and saw a message from Lu Guo.

Lu Guo: When are you leaving?

Yin Jian was puzzled.

Yin Jian: Leaving for where?

Lu Guo: The class reunion! It’s tonight at the Jiangling Grand Hotel, don't tell me you forgot? I'm almost there, when are you coming?

"..."

Seeing the reply, Yin Jian glanced at the date and realized it was indeed the scheduled time. He cursed internally. However, he couldn't tell the truth, so...

Yin Jian: I'm almost there too.

Without delay, he cleaned himself up and left the room, running toward the subway entrance. Fortunately, he lived on Fengyue Street, which wasn't far from the city center. It took him less than twenty minutes to arrive at the entrance of the Jiangling Grand Hotel.

The Jiangling Grand Hotel was the highest-rated hotel on White Bridge Star. In an era where hotels were graded on a ten-star scale, this seven-star establishment was certainly pricey, even if the quality of the food was debatable.

Passing through the massive golden gates, Yin Jian followed the instructions from the class group chat and, guided by the staff, arrived at the luxurious private room on the seventh floor.

The room was opulent, with dozens of glass lamps hanging from the ceiling, illuminating the space. Countless jewels embedded in the walls shimmered under the lights. Five large golden round tables were set in the center, and many people were already seated.

After taking in the scene, Yin Jian's mouth twitched involuntarily. The design of the room was chosen by the customers—which meant Zhang Hu’s taste was, well, a bit something else.

After thanking the staff, he took a few steps and spotted the iconic afro. Lu Guo was chatting with a thin, bespectacled young man named Bai Yan, who had been a fellow "brother-in-misery" during their school days.

"Lu Guo, Bai Yan, long time no see."

"Yin Jian, you're here."

"The 'Underworld' man."

Lu Guo looked up and greeted him immediately. Bai Yan, sitting beside him, looked surprised; he didn't understand why Yin Jian would come over, as they hadn't been very close in college. But hearing Lu Guo, he offered a polite greeting.

Yin Jian smiled, pulled up an empty chair next to Lu Guo, and looked at the half-empty room. "Where's Zhang Hu?"

It was one thing for others to be late, but for the host, Zhang Hu, to be absent was inexcusable.

"Him? He went to pick up people from other majors," Lu Guo replied. After speaking, he glanced at Bai Yan to ensure he wasn't paying attention, then leaned in and whispered, "I heard Yu Jia is coming too."

Yin Jian nodded. He wasn't surprised; she was the class monitor, after all. A reunion without her wouldn't be right.

After exchanging a few more words with Lu Guo, Yin Jian looked at his other classmates. Most of them had lost the spirit they had in school, clearly worn down by life. He could tell at a glance that very few were working in their relevant fields, and most were not having an easy time. A few who were doing well were surrounded by a group of people, flattered by comments about how they had "seen" their potential for greatness back in school. It made Yin Jian cringe.

He shook his head and looked away, but a few classmates noticed his gaze. After a brief exchange, the room fell into an eerie silence. Everyone turned to look at him in unison, as if following a command.

Yin Jian cursed to himself, feeling an urge to bolt. But his path was already blocked.

"Teacher Yin, where are you working these days?" someone asked with a sarcastic tone.

"I thought you looked down on us, Yin Jian." Another person, seeing the dark circles under his eyes from his late-night gaming sessions, feigned concern. "Why do you look so haggard? Must be a heavy burden from your company, right? Unlike me, my boss won't even let me work overtime. Sigh..."

The crowd chimed in, all trying to settle old scores. Yin Jian had left too deep a psychological shadow on them in college.

Yin Jian’s mouth twitched. He wanted to slap his younger self. This was the price of arrogance. He had the urge to flaunt his income from the last month, but he held back. They were all classmates, and he had been at fault back then; he should give them some face.

"Ahem." Yin Jian cleared his throat.

The surrounding crowd instinctively stepped back. Whenever Yin Jian started bragging back in the day, he would start with that exact cough. The fact that they reacted instinctively showed how deep the trauma really was.

But the next moment, the crowd looked stunned. After the cough, Yin Jian didn't display his signature confident, smug grin. Instead, a faint sadness appeared on his face.

"What's going on?"

"How would I know?"

"Did he really crash and burn?"

"That shouldn't be right. Even if he liked to brag, he had talent."

"I have a bad feeling about this, I'm out."

Ignoring their whispers, Yin Jian spoke slowly: "Do you all want to know what I've been through this past year?"

His tone was filled with loneliness and resentment, instantly piquing everyone's curiosity. Even those who were ready to leave stopped and waited for him to continue. They all shared the same thought: The "Great Demon King" Yin Jian had finally fallen.

Lu Guo, the only one who knew the truth, saw this and twitched his eyelids, quickly moving away to avoid being hit by the fallout.

Once the room was quiet and the atmosphere was perfectly set, Yin Jian spoke slowly.

"Three days after graduation, my resume was rejected by every company..."

"I wasn't resigned..."

"I relied on myself..."

"However..."

"But what does that matter..."

"I kept trying..."

"But the result was..."

In just a few moments, he wove a story of an ordinary man struggling in society, searching for redemption—all with just a few sentences.