Agreeing to Create Bad Games, What the Hell Is ‘Titanfall’? Chapter 45

"Sounds good!"

Gu Sheng wiped his hands and signaled to Chu Qingzhou that it was all good.

Perfect timing.

Even if Little Nezha hadn’t come to find him today, he had already been planning to discuss the future direction with her.

These past few days, he kept pondering over the questions raised at the conference—why, despite how well horror games and haptic pods fit together, horror games had virtually no foothold in today’s haptic pod market.

So, Gu Sheng first reached out to Lu Bian and Da Jiang to get a sense of things. After that, he combined what they said with the information he found online and finally pieced it all together.

Turns out, when haptic pods were first mass-produced and started shifting from high-end markets to mid- and low-end markets, horror games were once all the rage.

Big names like China’s Langya Games and the veteran overseas company Komera Games had both released haptic pod horror games.

And as soon as they hit the market, they caused a sensation.

But, as the saying goes, what makes you also breaks you.

Once studios tasted the success of jumpscares, the big companies doubled down, and the copycats followed suit, all obsessed with the same face-popping design ideas.

After all, this stuff barely needed any design cost—heck, you didn’t even have to think.

Open a door? Throw in a ghost.

Turn a corner? A ghost.

Look up? Another ghost.

Spin around? You guessed it—ghost.

Each and every monster, different in form but all designed for the same reason: to scare the sh*t out of players. Sometimes, they’d even plop monsters illogically into random spots, just waiting to jump out when players passed by.

Over time, the downsides of this copy-paste formula became clear—

Players built up immunity. They started getting sick of it.

Sure, the look of the monsters kept evolving—from creepy mask-wearing guys to skeletons to even Chinese zombies. But it was all the same old thing.

The jumpscare formula had left its mark deep in every game developer’s soul.

It was like SpongeBob, who was so used to making those delicious Krabby Patties that the moment someone took out a pickle, he’d freeze up, not even knowing how to cook anymore.

So, the market for haptic pod horror games slowly withered.

Eventually, on a certain day, it was completely wiped out by the “guns, cars, and balls” trifecta, becoming a relic of the haptic pod era.

Not only did it lose its former glory, it even fell behind casual games like chess and card games—almost completely extinct in the haptic pod scene.

After understanding all this, Gu Sheng felt a little sentimental.

Really, from a transmigrator’s perspective, he should have been surprised.

Like, seriously? Out of all the game industry professionals, game companies, and game designers worldwide—

Not a single one had a lightbulb moment and thought of a different way to scare players besides jumpscares?

But the reality was—nope, not one.

It’s like in his previous world, there was a person just like him who had transmigrated to Gu Sheng’s current world.

That person would definitely wonder—Huh? The haptic pod technology in my world is already going mainstream. Why hasn’t this world even developed a prototype yet?

Is it really that hard?

Isn’t this thing just built on the foundations of computer science?

Same logic here.

So, after Gu Sheng wrapped his head around it all, he wasn’t too shocked—just a bit reflective.

The heavens really were being kind to him.

Not only had they let him keep pursuing his passion for games in this world,

They also seemed to want him to become a guiding light in the game industry of this world.

To build up this world’s game industry brick by brick, to make this world’s games more colorful, more vibrant.

Following Chu Qingzhou, Gu Sheng arrived outside Shen Miaomiao’s office. He nodded at Chu Qingzhou to thank her, then raised his hand and knocked on the door.

Knock knock knock—

"Come in," came Little Nezha’s voice from inside.

Gu Sheng pushed the door open and stepped in. "President Shen, you asked for me?"

"Ah, yes! Come in, come in!"

As soon as Shen Miaomiao saw Gu Sheng, she quickly stood up and motioned for him to come in.

Gu Sheng followed Chu Qingzhou into the office, and his eyes immediately fell on the fifty yuan note framed on Shen Miaomiao’s desk.

He raised an eyebrow. "Quite the... unique decor."

Shen Miaomiao’s smile froze on her face.

D*mn it. It’s all your fault.

But the look on her face darkened for only a split second. Casually, she flipped the fifty yuan note over on her desk, then forced a smile. "Let’s sit down and talk..."

Once Gu Sheng and Chu Qingzhou were seated, Shen Miaomiao began:

"Director Gu, now that our revenue is stabilizing, I had Chu-jie bring you over today to discuss the development plan for our next project."

"Do you have any ideas?"

Of course Gu Sheng had ideas.

He wanted to go into haptic pods.

But... he was a little hesitant.

Let’s be real!

Haptic pods were notorious money pits.

He’d heard from a representative at the conference—just six months of working on a haptic pod game had already burned through more than three million.

And that was considered a small-scale operation by the big companies.

For a company like theirs, this kind of project wasn’t exactly something they could just jump into.

Gu Sheng was an old hand in the gaming world.

Logically, if he were to suggest getting into haptic pods at this point, any president would probably shoot the idea down.

The risk was too big.

One wrong move, and they’d crash and burn.

Thinking of this, Gu Sheng hesitated and said, "Uh... I do have some ideas, but they’re not exactly well-formed yet."

"No problem. Let’s hear them."

Shen Miaomiao didn’t seem bothered.

I actually like hearing those half-baked suggestions.

"Uh..."

Gu Sheng thought for a moment, then said:

"I’m interested in pivoting toward the haptic pod market."

Hiss—

Before Shen Miaomiao could react, Chu Qingzhou sucked in a sharp breath.

That’s... one bold suggestion!

Let’s not forget!

Haptic pod games were known across the industry as the most expensive projects to develop!

Sure!

Golden Wind had carved out a solid niche in the domestic gaming scene with its three blockbuster games.

The company’s income was growing steadily.

But even that couldn’t withstand the kind of burn rate a haptic pod project would bring!

One misstep, and the startup capital they’d worked so hard to build could go up in smoke, without even making a splash!

Thinking of this, Chu Qingzhou hesitated before speaking up:

"Director Gu, isn’t it a bit premature for us to consider this right now?"

To be honest, Chu Qingzhou’s attitude toward Gu Sheng had changed a lot.

From initial skepticism and mistrust to the current respect and admiration.

It showed in her tone.

But even so, faced with such a bold development plan, Chu Qingzhou couldn’t help but raise an objection.

After all, with Golden Wind’s current capital, jumping into haptic pods could easily wipe them out completely—even threaten the company’s survival.

Trying to make a play in the haptic pod market with just a few million? That was downright reckless.

They should at least wait until they had tens of millions in reserve before thinking about it.

However!

Before she could finish her thought—

From the boss chair, Shen Miaomiao spoke up:

"I actually think Director Gu’s suggestion..."

"Is a really good one!"

In an instant, Chu Qingzhou felt her mind go fuzzy!

Huh?

Wait a second?

Why does this feel so familiar?

Have I... seen this scene before?