Chapter Thirteen: I Am Wealthy!
Tuesday
Inside the office, several intern operations managers were all gathered around Yu Jia’s computer. Today was the day their first contracted game debuted, so naturally, everyone was paying close attention.
“Open the backend and take a look,” Yun Ying said from behind. She wasn’t too optimistic. If it had gotten a strong recommendation, the first day’s sales might look better, but if it was just a test launch…
To be honest, she couldn’t quite figure out what that designer was thinking. She’d never seen someone refuse a recommendation and insist on launching the game by force.
Seated in front of her computer, Yu Jia felt the gaze of those around her and sighed internally. She didn’t have high hopes for Yin Jian’s first-day sales, and part of her didn’t even want to look. Yet, for some reason, there was a faint spark of anticipation. What if a miracle happened, as it had before?
She exhaled, carefully opened the backend data for “My Little World,” and revealed the numbers.
First-day sales: 1,271 yuan.
“1,271? Pfft!” Ye Yu burst out laughing.
Were these numbers impressive? Not at all. Compared to the nearly nine hundred from “Play Again,” this figure was shockingly low.
“My Little World” had a price ceiling set at fifty yuan, so each purchase represented fifty in sales. With 1,271 yuan sold, it meant only twenty-six people had bought the game on launch day.
On a platform where the average paid conversion rate hovered around forty percent, this was almost unprecedented.
Even Yun Ying, a veteran in the field, was left speechless. Still, she quickly composed herself and offered comfort: “Yu Jia, treat this as a lesson. Let’s make sure not to repeat this mistake next time.”
“I think the ‘Play Again’ numbers were artificially inflated. He probably refused the recommendation and rushed the launch to avoid being exposed,” Ye Yu sneered.
He kept belittling “My Little World,” hoping to undermine Yu Jia’s confidence and force this proud woman to bow her head.
“Ye Yu!” Yun Ying shot Ye Yu a sharp look to silence him.
She did not contradict him, though. After all, that was the only explanation that made sense for the strange data.
“All right, everyone, back to your stations and continue reviewing games,” Yun Ying dispersed the group, then glanced at Yu Jia, who stared silently at the screen.
She said nothing more, knowing that what Yu Jia needed most now was peace and quiet.
...
Ye Yu returned to his seat, a smirk on his lips. Now that he knew Yu Jia’s contracted designer was a failure, his mood instantly brightened.
Page 2/3
He tapped away at his computer, opening up the games he had signed. Each game had gained over five hundred new favorites.
“Zerg Wars” by Green Hat Wind and Moon Landlord had increased by a staggering 2,100 favorites.
This growth surpassed most games signed by experienced operations managers. Achieving a strong recommendation was already a certainty.
Yet Ye Yu was not satisfied. He wanted a crushing victory.
He opened the chat window for Green Hat Wind and Moon Landlord.
“How’s the romance content coming along? I don’t want the recommendation period to end and you still haven’t updated.”
Green Hat Wind and Moon Landlord: “It’s ready, but… Yu, would you like to take a look first?”
“Want me to check for you?” Ye Yu snorted.
His time was precious, and being someone else’s grunt was out of the question. But his good mood today spared Green Hat from his usual scolding.
“I trust your abilities. Just release it yourself.”
...
...
“My Little World” daily sales details:
June 26: 1,271
June 27: 1,872
June 28: 2,231
June 29: 2,324
June 30: 2,173
Total sales for June: 9,871
Last month’s income (total sales x 50% contract share): 4,935.5 (already paid)
Typically, a game’s first-day sales mark its peak. According to the data Stone sent him, buyout games’ daily income after launch averages about 5% of their first-day earnings. If your first-day is ten thousand, the average daily thereafter is five hundred, making the monthly sales about one and a half times the first-day figure.
That income, influenced by game quality, usually declines after three to six months.
Of course, this refers to ordinary games—not those that become runaway hits.
Compared to traditional buyout games, free games have an advantage here. As long as you keep updating paid content, daily sales can remain at a high level.
As soon as Yin Jian received the payment notification, he decided to treat himself to a good meal.
Page 3/3
For nearly half a month, it had been nothing but steamed buns and thin porridge. His palate had grown numb.
“Money really does make life better.”
He inhaled the smoky aroma of barbecue from his takeout box and sighed. This was what life was meant to be.
After polishing off the barbecue, Yin Jian patted his satisfied belly and returned to his computer.
He opened the game assistant and began planning his next steps.
“Skins will need regular updates, but I shouldn’t release too many at once. If I pace the updates, players will want to buy every single one.”
“In addition to skins, I need a stable source of income…”
“Monthly pass… What benefits should I offer with that?”
“And the multiplayer module… That can’t be paywalled, or the game’s spread will stall.”
“Knock, knock, knock!”
As Yin Jian pondered his paid content strategy, a knock sounded at the door.
He checked the camera and saw Zhou Shun, immediately getting up to let him in.
This time, he felt no anxiety—he had money!
“You’re here to collect rent, right…” Yin Jian stopped mid-sentence, noticing something off about Zhou Shun’s demeanor.
“What’s going on?”
Hearing Yin Jian’s question, Zhou Shun looked up. His eyes, shaded by the brim of a green hat, were bloodshot and weary.
Compared to a week ago, Zhou Shun was visibly more haggard.
He didn’t explain the reason for his state, but lifted a case of beer in his left hand. “Will you have a drink with me?”
“…Come in.”
After a few seconds’ hesitation, Yin Jian stepped aside and invited Zhou Shun to sit on the sofa.
Zhou Shun had helped him many times; sharing a few drinks was the least he could do.
Seated on the sofa, Zhou Shun said nothing, just drank quietly.
After three or four cans, he finally sighed. “Brother Yin, I have a burden in my heart that I need to get off my chest.”
“Don’t mind me—I just have no one else to talk to.”
Zhou Shun’s tone grew somber. Though he’d inherited dozens of buildings and seemed to lead a glamorous life, he didn’t have a single friend to confide in…
PS: Please send recommendation votes! The contract has already been mailed out; the status should change by tonight.