To ascend, I had no choice but to create games

Chapter 156: Chapter 120: Crossroads (Two More)_2

However, compared with the achievements created by “Dark Builder,” Tianyi seemed very shabby.

In order to rapidly iterate a competitive product, Tianyi’s Rong City branch invested a significant amount of manpower, and afterwards, went through a frenzy of iterations, but ultimately failed to make a splash.

The high-precision art seemed incompatible with this genre; at least, until there was a breakthrough in the performance of existing game consoles, the two were incompatible.

Ultimately, before the arrival of the new year, KongKong’s newly established studio disbanded once again.

The once bustling office was now deserted, with seconded employees returning to their previous project teams to continue their struggle at Tianyi.

President Zhang Ping originally wanted to see KongKong off, but KongKong refused.

Having returned full of ambition and now leaving like a stray dog, the process seemed too disgraceful, better not to be seen by others.

However, in the empty office, he still called over his last student, Qiu Yu, and gave him one final lesson there.

“What do you think is the most important thing for a game studio?” KongKong asked, looking at the gloomy sky in the distance.

“Making a good game?”

“No, it’s surviving. Making a good game is the ultimate aim of the studio, a game that can be remembered for centuries, talked about with relish even decades later, and even having people make MODs for it, is every game maker’s obsession. But before you achieve that goal, your most important objective is to stay alive.”

Seeing Qiu Yu still somewhat perplexed, KongKong continued to explain, “A good game doesn’t necessarily make you money, but a bad game doesn’t necessarily lose you money, either. Every game maker must learn to cut their losses in time, sever ties with sunk costs promptly, and find every opportunity to make money and keep themselves alive.”

“Idle games become popular, you make idle games; card games are hot, you make card games; anime… let’s not touch that for now, the anime scene is too competitive, we’ll wait until a bunch have fallen and then hire some original artists at low cost.”

“If the domestic environment is poor, work on overseas projects; whatever foreigners like, make that; even if they want to see dirty pictures, put them in the game for them.”

At this point, Qiu Yu couldn’t help but exclaim, “That’s pretty bottom-line!”

“But you can survive! For a game company, the bottom line isn’t important, surviving is. Only if you survive do you have a say, do people listen to you, can you wash away your past. If you die, no matter how good the games you made were, others will only mourn your corpse.”

“People often say I’m pragmatic, but I’ve managed to keep you all alive, which is why I was successful until… never mind, let’s not talk about that. Anyway, survive. No need to see me out, I’ve driven here.”

Patted Qiu Yu on the shoulder, KongKong left the pondering student behind and left the office.

He had already arranged Qiu Yu’s fallback plan; although he was now out of favor, he still had some connections that could secure Qiu Yu a job as a chief planner.

Of course, it was the chief planner for a very small indie game, but he believed that with Qiu Yu’s abilities, he would quickly make a name for himself at Tianyi.

Descending the stairs, he was about to head to the nearby parking lot to drive away when he noticed that it had started snowing.

This year, Rong City had ample water, and occasionally the temperature would drop quite low; there had already been several snowfalls after the onset of winter.

Pausing for a moment in the snow, he lowered his head to leave when he noticed someone else had emerged from across the way.

It was Huang Ping.

Since their last conflict, they had stopped communicating, but each was still able to hear about the other through some channels.

Seeing Huang Ping’s figure, KongKong knew the other must have come to wait for him, so he sneered, “Came to see me make a fool of myself?”

“…No, after all, we’ve worked together in the past, I’m not that idle. What are you planning to do next?”

“Retire, plan to write some textbooks. A few publishers are quite interested in my past experiences, so I’m planning to go back and write.”

“That’s good.”

After a silence, KongKong suddenly asked, “Living Immortal… that’s Fang Cheng, right?”

Huang Ping didn’t respond, but his silence had already proven a lot.

Sensing Huang Ping’s attitude, KongKong felt relieved and, patting his chest, said, “I thought so, that’s really great.”

Nowadays, KongKong had become very thin, his hair half white, but he seemed somehow more spirited and wise.

Pointing to a nearby café, he said, “Anyways, I’m free now, and your studio doesn’t work overtime at night, so, care to have a chat with me?”

“Let’s go,” Huang Ping nodded with a smile.

In the dim light of the café, they talked for a long time.

They discussed the first game they collaborated on, the bizarre incidents involving former colleagues who had resigned, their slashing criticism on the prospects of the game’s development, and plans for the future.

Having once collaborated, then become adversaries, and now finally sitting together with past grievances thawed, the two exchanged words they had previously been unable to say due to their statuses.

They talked until eleven o’clock at night, when they finally needed to go back.

Donning a coat and wrapping a scarf around his neck, KongKong took out his car keys and asked, “Still living at the old place? I’ll drive you.”

“No, I bought a place nearby and moved over a long time ago.”

“Mortgage? How much was the down payment?”

“Paid in full.”

KongKong was taken aback for a moment, then looked at Huang Ping.

The fatigue brought on by previous overtime work was no longer visible, and the originally prominent dark circles under his eyes had disappeared. The Huang Ping standing before him seemed to revert to the youth he once was, overlapping with the image of himself when he first joined Tianyi.

With a slight nod, KongKong said softly, “That’s good then, you guys are doing quite well, and it was good that you left when you did.”

The two walked towards the parking lot, preparing to part ways at the fork there.

The snow had stopped, leaving a rare layer of white on the ground. Though it would melt before long, it still gave a clean, vast whiteness to the scene.

The orange glow of the streetlights lit up like torches, but as they approached the parking lot, the paths suddenly diverged, creating an entirely different route.

At the fork in the road, Huang Ping hesitated before saying, “The reason I joined Tianyi back then was actually because of you.”

“Me?”

“Yeah. The first game I ever played was the client game you made. At that time, I never imagined a client game could be so fun, and I set my sights on Tianyi ever since. Before I was hired, I always thought you were the best producer in the country. I even wrote to you once, including my various views on games and suggestions for improvements, as well as my admiration for you. But you probably forgot.”

“…Indeed, what do you think of me now?”

“Heh.”

“…Alright, it’s getting late, goodbye then.”

“Goodbye.”

After a friendly handshake, they went their separate ways.

Huang Ping followed the street lamps into the distance, slowly blending into the warm, orange glow as he walked towards his warm home.

KongKong, on the other hand, walked through the snow into the nearly deserted parking lot.

His steps slowed down, and by the time he reached his car, he was almost unable to stand.

How could he possibly forget!

How could he forget such a naive and passionate letter!

His original passion for games finally came flooding back; his past ideals and ambitions pierced into his chest like spines, making him realize all at once that he had become the person he once despised the most.

Kneeling by the side of his car, he cried silently, like a stray dog that had lost its home.

The next day, the news about “Dark Guardian” shutting down was circulated but didn’t attract much attention.

There were already many games like “Dark Builder”; every day, new genres of games emerged and others disappeared.

Aside from a simple report by a gaming news uploader on B station, who mentioned KongKong’s resignation, no one else paid any attention.

Unknowingly, a new year arrived.

And Fang Cheng felt he could let go.