Agreeing to Create Bad Games, What the Hell Is ‘Titanfall’? Chapter 53
Beautiful!
Same recipe, same flavor.
Shen Miaomiao took a deep breath, her nostrils flaring slightly—like Mr. Krabs breathing in the scent of a treasure chest overflowing with gold coins.
That was the smell of money.
A 2-million investment was far beyond the YiYou Platform's definition of a "mini-game," so it wouldn’t enjoy the zero-commission benefits anymore.
Which meant—if they wanted to break even this time...
The game had to bring in at least 2.5 million in revenue within a week!
Shen Miaomiao had pushed the system to its limits, cutting the price down as much as possible.
And the final price for Phasmophobia?
Forty-five yuan a pop.
For a weekly target of 2.5 million...
That meant they’d have to sell over 55,555 copies within a week just to recoup their costs!
At first glance, a weekly sale of over 50,000 copies didn’t sound impossible.
After all, their last game, Vampire Survivor, had sold over 40,000 copies on its first day alone.
But let’s not forget—
The reason Vampire Survivor sold like crazy was because it hit the market at the perfect time!
Or as Shen Miaomiao put it, with conditions like that, even if you put a pig in charge instead of Gu Sheng, it would’ve soared too!
First, the game had a 14-day free trial—plenty of time for word-of-mouth to spread.
Second, it had the controversy of being the cheating-vote scandal victim, which gave it tons of publicity.
Third, it had unlimited high-intensity promotion from YiYou, pushing it hard everywhere.
And most importantly—
It was on PC, a platform with a massive user base, way larger than the haptic pod market.
After all, PCs had been around for years. With models ranging from high-end to budget-friendly, they catered to everyone. A universal platform for the masses.
But the haptic pod? That was a different story.
It had always been a luxury device for the high-end market.
Even though production breakthroughs had brought costs down in recent years, it had only started to expand into the mid-range market.
But with prices still running into the tens of thousands, most people could only dream of owning one.
According to last year’s market research report, the household computer penetration rate in major Chinese cities was 50.2%—meaning every two households shared one PC on average.
And the haptic pod penetration rate?
A measly 0.95%.
You’d be lucky if even one in a hundred households had a haptic pod.
That’s a fifty-fold difference!
On top of that—
The YiYou X1’s market share across the country was only 17%, less than a fifth.
Combine that with their neglected, niche horror game genre...
Shen Miaomiao bared her teeth in a grimace.
Even she had to admit, they were in a tough spot.
The data was clear: for games of similar size, the top-selling title on the YiYou X1 platform had sold about 2,500 copies on its first day.
That was a racing game—great quality, strong reputation, and it fit the haptic pod’s popular genre.
Even in the best-case scenario, if Phasmophobia could match that game’s sales every day for a week...
It would only sell 17,500 copies, pulling in 787,500 yuan total.
After the platform’s 20% revenue cut, their actual profit would only be 630,000 yuan.
(2,000,000 - 630,000) * 10...
Just some simple elementary school math.
That’s a 13.7 million yuan gap.
And that’s assuming everything goes perfectly.
Because realistically, their horror game niche was so cold it could freeze water, and no game could maintain day-one sales indefinitely.
Smack!
Shen Miaomiao clapped her hands, then shrugged.
Sometimes, money just fell into your lap that easily.
After all, having a system in your life made things simple and boring.
A casual profit of a few million?
All in a day’s work.
She couldn’t help but chuckle, happily clicking into Gu Sheng’s personal Weibo page.
Sure enough, just moments ago, Gu Sheng had posted an announcement about Phasmophobia’s release.
Right below the game description, there was a short promo video.
Normally, Shen Miaomiao wouldn’t have bothered to click. She wasn’t that interested.
But this time, she had no choice.
Because—
This was Golden Wind’s very first game trailer.
And more importantly, it was also the first time she and Gu Sheng had done a live-action promo themselves!
8 PM, Shark League of Legends section.
Known in the community as “Esports Dong Zhuo,” bdd was slouched in his chair, happily browsing Gu Sheng’s Weibo.
He’d been a fan of Golden Wind ever since Who’s Your Daddy.
So he was well aware of how far Golden Wind would go for a gimmick.
Today, the moment Gu Sheng’s post went live, viewers in his chat had already started spamming him with the news.
Curious, bdd clicked on the post—and sure enough, after a three-month silence, Golden Wind was back with a brand-new title.
And this time, it was a haptic pod game!
Immediately, bdd told his assistant Xiao Ma to dust off his long-unused YiYou X1 pod.
As a gamer—and a wealthy one at that—bdd lived by the motto: I may not play, but I have to have it.
He owned every mainstream haptic pod model on the market.
While Xiao Ma busied himself setting up the pod, bdd skimmed through Gu Sheng’s post, getting a feel for the game.
But what really caught him off guard was—
Even though it was labeled as a horror game,
the promo video was filmed live-action.
And the actors weren’t just randoms either!
They were none other than Golden Wind’s CEO, President Ou, and Supernova Game Director Sheng-ge!
bdd couldn’t wrap his head around it.
How could two high-level execs lower themselves to make something so offbeat?
It was practically unheard of in gaming history.
No wonder the stream chat was blowing up with “WTF” comments!
“Gotta tweak the haptic pod a bit first,”
bdd said, chuckling as he looked at the video thumbnail.
“Let’s check out the trailer first—this is too good to pass up.”
He clicked the play button and maximized the screen—
“We conducted a thorough inspection of your villa, including using spirit boards, thermometers, and the like...”
With Gu Sheng’s voice narrating, the trailer’s title appeared: The Next Day.
The scene jumped right in—
It was clear that the ghost investigation had already ended, and Gu Sheng, playing the investigator, was holding a notebook as he reported back to the client—played by Shen Miaomiao.
“At first, we didn’t find much. But later, we detected a level-5 EMF reading on the second floor, meaning ghost activity,”
He pointed to the second floor of the villa with his pen.
“Based on our findings, I can tell you with confidence—there’s a Specter in your villa.”
“Huh?”
Shen Miaomiao looked totally lost at his explanation, her eyes wide with fear.
“A Specter? What’s that supposed to be?”
“It’s a type of...”
Gu Sheng glanced down at his notebook, his tone calm, like this was all in a day’s work.
“...a ghost that can fly and phase through walls.”
Shen Miaomiao’s face twisted in confusion, terror rising in her eyes.
“You’re telling me there was a ghost in my house?!”
“No, no—not ‘was,’”
Gu Sheng gave a professional smile, shrugging.
“It’s still there.”
“You didn’t get rid of it?!” Shen Miaomiao practically exploded.
“Not my department. I just identify ghost types,”
Gu Sheng replied with a smile, looking like a total pro.
“If you want someone to catch it, I’d recommend you call Zhakang... or Lin Zhengying, that works too.”
Pfft!
Watching this, bdd couldn’t hold it in—he spewed water everywhere.
“Lin Zhengying? Are you f***ing kidding me? Hahaha... damn!!!”