Agreeing to Create Bad Games, What the Hell Is ‘Titanfall’? Chapter 64

Clatter——!!!

A few days later!

When Gu Sheng dumped a whole bag of toy guns onto the conference table, both Lu Bian and Da Jiang were completely dumbfounded!

“What’s this...”

Lu Bian picked up a pistol that had slid in front of him, his expression a little confused.

“Glock 22. Chambered in .40 S&W rounds, 15-round mag. Designed for close-quarters combat. It’s standard issue for American police forces, used for American-style quick draws.”

Gu Sheng’s explanation was smooth and confident, just like Robert Downey Jr. at a Stark Industries press conference.

“That’s not what I’m asking...”

Lu Bian rubbed his forehead, a dark cloud hanging over his head:

“For making games, of course.”

As he spoke, Gu Sheng picked up an AR-15, propped it on his shoulder, and struck a ready stance:

“We’re going to use this perspective to make the game.”

Hearing that, Lu Bian looked at Gu Sheng—he saw Gu Sheng aiming at him through the gun’s iron sights.

“This perspective?”

Seeing the way Gu Sheng looked, Lu Bian frowned slightly:

“You mean adding a raise-the-gun animation on top of the virtual crosshair? That’s not really necessary, is it?”

“No, no virtual crosshair.”

Gu Sheng shook his head, then tapped the rail on the gun:

“Just aim like this.”

“What?!”

The moment those words left his mouth, both Lu Bian and Da Jiang were shocked!

They could hardly believe it.

You have to understand—

For as long as anyone could remember, shooting games and virtual crosshairs have been inseparable.

When it comes to the “aim-down-sights” mechanic, other games, at most, would add a raise-the-gun animation like Lu Bian had just mentioned.

But no one had ever talked about removing the virtual crosshair altogether!

“That... seems kinda unnecessary, no?”

As he spoke, Lu Bian casually picked up an AK and struck a hip-fire pose:

“This wide-open perspective—virtual crosshairs have been tested by the market for years, and they’ve long been proven as the most convenient and efficient aiming method.”

Beside him, Da Jiang nodded in agreement:

“Yeah, even for motion-sensing pod games, we follow the same design as other studios. Isn’t that safer?”

Gu Sheng had played other companies’ motion-sensing pod shooters. He knew that the current FPS shooting mode in pods was basically the same as those motion-sensing arcade shooters.

The on-screen virtual crosshair followed the barrel’s movement—point and shoot. It worked like a laser pointer.

That wasn’t what Gu Sheng wanted.

And that wasn’t second-generation FPS.

In fact, as the game director, Gu Sheng could have just given a direct order right then and there—told Da Jiang and Lu Bian to drop the debate and build it his way.

He had the authority, after all. Among the three of them, he was always the one to lead the charge.

Even if he pulled rank and made the final call today, the other two wouldn’t complain.

But!

Gu Sheng knew.

Compared to first-gen FPS, the biggest challenge in creating second-gen FPS was one thing—

The elusive, almost mystical “gunfeel tuning.”

This kind of thing couldn’t be measured by data. It manifested across multiple dimensions—smoothness, sensitivity, impact feedback, recoil response...

And in motion-sensing pods, they had to perfectly align with human ergonomics, striking a balance between realism and playability!

This wasn’t something you could explain—it had to be felt.

That’s why Gu Sheng had specially bought these realistic gun replicas—to let Lu Bian and Da Jiang experience what second-gen FPS was supposed to feel like.

Because only after they felt the essence of second-gen FPS could they build that experience properly!

“Come on, you’ll know once you try.”

As he spoke, Gu Sheng randomly grabbed an AK and pushed it toward Lu Bian:

“These models have built-in motors to simulate recoil to some extent.”

“In a bit, Da Jiang will shout ‘go,’ and I’ll rush you from the front of the conference room with a knife. You just treat the laser pointer as your virtual crosshair and take me down.”

“Alright.”

Hearing that, Lu Bian nodded, stood up with the AK, held the barrel down, and gave a quick nod:

“I’m ready.”

At the same time, Gu Sheng was already standing at the front of the conference room, holding a plastic replica combat knife, signaling with a raised hand: “I’m ready too.”

Da Jiang, standing off to the side, slowly raised his hand: “Three! Two! One! Go!”

The moment Da Jiang’s hand dropped—

Gu Sheng let out a loud roar!

“Yamete——Shineeeee!!!”

And charged at Lu Bian with the knife!

“F**k!!!”

It was like something in Lu Bian’s blood had been conditioned to react—despite being stunned by Gu Sheng’s absurd battle cry, he didn’t hesitate for a second. He aimed the laser pointer at Gu Sheng and pulled the trigger!

Ratatatat——

Thud.

Gu Sheng acted as if he’d been shot, dropped down into a living-room-style knee slide, and collapsed onto the ground.

“That’s traditional virtual crosshair shooting.”

Pulled up by Lu Bian, Gu Sheng asked:

“How did it feel?”

“It felt...”

Lu Bian scratched his head:

“Like you need a background check on three generations of your family, you can’t possibly be acting this well...”

“Is that what I f***ing asked?!”

Gu Sheng snapped, giving Lu Bian a kick:

“I’m asking about the shooting experience!”

“Oh, oh.”

Lu Bian grinned:

“Shooting experience... Honestly, not much of a difference. About the same as current mainstream motion-sensing pod shooting games.”

“Alright, let’s go again.”

As he spoke, Gu Sheng pointed at the gun in Lu Bian’s hands:

“This time, turn off the laser pointer and aim with the iron sights.”

“Got it.”

Lu Bian nodded, also curious to see what it felt like to shoot using only iron sights in a first-person perspective:

“Let’s go.”

The three got back in position, and Da Jiang raised his hand again: “Ready——”

“Start!!!”

As Da Jiang gave the signal—

Gu Sheng’s wild battle cry rang out again!

But this time, as Gu Sheng charged like a maniac, Lu Bian opted for an aim-down-sights shooting stance!

Click!

With the stock tucked against his shoulder, Lu Bian suddenly felt his field of view shrink!

In an instant!

Everything around him became a blur, and the only sharp focus in his sight was the charging Gu Sheng!

What’s more—because of the narrowed field of view, Gu Sheng’s speed felt even faster!

The sense of threat and impact seemed to multiply several times over!

Lu Bian’s heart skipped a beat!

Almost reflexively, he pulled the trigger!

Ratatatatata——!!!

The motor-simulated recoil made the iron sights bounce wildly, the shooting feedback magnifying exponentially at that moment!

Even knowing this was all staged—just the three of them goofing around—

Lu Bian couldn’t deny it—

This impact and the simulated feedback gave him chills all over!

“Ho...ly...sh*t...”

So this is second-generation FPS?!

At that moment!

Lu Bian understood exactly what Gu Sheng was aiming for!

He never expected that two shooting methods that seemed so similar on the surface could feel so drastically different in first-person!

Just a simple comparison—and the difference was glaring!

And if you added in muzzle flashes, bullet spread, blood splatter effects, ragdoll physics, and so on...

Lu Bian could hardly imagine the sheer visual impact it would create!

Not to mention—

Gu Sheng’s project was a zombie-themed game!

And—

It wasn’t the slow, brainless zombie trope from older games.

This time, they were leveling up the zombies—

Fast-moving, swarming like the monsters in Kingdom!

God knows!

When they launched this Left 4 Survival game in motion-sensing pods, it was going to be explosive!

“How was it? Feel the difference?”

Lying on the floor, Gu Sheng saw that Lu Bian hadn’t reacted yet, knowing he must have grasped the essence of the second-gen FPS model:

“Big difference from virtual crosshair, isn’t it?”

“Holy... It’s a whole new level...”

Lu Bian reached out to pull Gu Sheng up, his face full of shock:

“Calling it a ‘big difference’ is an understatement—it’s worlds apart!”

“At first, I thought the difference between the two shooting modes was just in aiming.”

“I even thought this ‘second-gen FPS’ you mentioned, with the added aiming motion, would be less convenient than virtual crosshair hip fire.”

“But actually, it’s so much more.”

“The recoil sensation, shooting feel, target impact, even field-of-view optimization—it’s a multi-dimensional upgrade!”

“Gu Sheng...”

Lu Bian looked at Gu Sheng, eyes sparkling:

“You might actually revolutionize the gaming world again with this.”

And Lu Bian wasn’t exaggerating.

This kind of mode upgrade was no less than the impact Phasmophobia had on the horror game genre!

In fact!

Since the FPS market was far larger than horror games, the influence of second-gen FPS on the entire gaming industry would be even more profound!

“Ah...”

Saying that, Lu Bian sighed:

“It’s a pity you can’t patent a game mode. Otherwise, the patent fees from just this one innovation could feed us for a lifetime.”

“What’s the point of thinking about that?”

Hearing that, Gu Sheng patted Lu Bian’s shoulder:

“This is just one of the ideas I’ve got. Don’t worry. Not just one lifetime—stick with me, and I’ll make sure you’re fed for three generations.”

“I feel like this one game alone could feed Golden Wind for a lifetime...”

Lu Bian grinned nervously, already feeling overwhelmed by the potential of the finished product.

Seeing Lu Bian go from skeptical to completely convinced and raving with praise—

Da Jiang, who’d been standing by the whole time, couldn’t resist raising his hand: “Hey! Bro Sheng! I want to try it too!”

Gu Sheng knew—this kind of first-person experience had to be felt firsthand to be truly understood.

So he waved his hand: “I’m done for now. My knees hurt from that knee slide—let Lu Bian take over.”

He gave Lu Bian a look, full of trust:

“Good luck. You two figure it out. Da Jiang’s our lead artist, after all. This thing’s a first-ever—we need to make sure he gets a deep impression!”

“Got it, leave it to me!”

Lu Bian nodded, taking the plastic knife from Gu Sheng.

As Gu Sheng stepped out of the conference room, he heard Lu Bian’s loud, cocky voice from behind:

“Ey si ba lao ma——!!!”

When it came to being a pain, Lu Bian really had a knack for it...

Gu Sheng chuckled, shook his head, and closed the conference room door behind him.

...

The moment he stepped out, he bumped into Shen Miaomiao, who was carrying a bag of snacks.

In the hallway, the two locked eyes. Then, Shen Miaomiao cast a suspicious glance toward the conference room.

From inside, she could hear Lu Bian and Da Jiang mixing Mandarin with awkward Korean.

“You guys are...”

She pointed at the conference room:

“Learning a foreign language?”

“Uhhhh...”

Gu Sheng shrugged, not sure how to explain to Little Nezha:

“We’re... working on a project.”

Yeah, right!!!

Shen Miaomiao rolled her eyes so hard they almost stuck.

That was an even worse excuse than her claiming she watched movies for inspiration!

But!

Shen Miaomiao didn’t press further.

Let them play!

The more time Gu Sheng wasted messing around, the better. After all, how could a project succeed if they weren’t focused? If it failed, that’s when her rebates would come in!

“Hmm...”

Shen Miaomiao nodded, glancing once more at the chaotic sounds from the conference room:

“Very creative vibe you’ve got going.”

Truly, no words left to compliment with...

Then, without lingering, she split a bag of chips and handed some to Gu Sheng:

“Want some chips?”

“Sure.”

Gu Sheng took the chips and raised a hand:

“By the way, I wanted to talk to you about the game’s investment.”

Shen Miaomiao loved hearing that!

She immediately nodded, and the two headed off to the CEO’s office together.

“How much budget are you thinking?”

After sitting down, Shen Miaomiao tore open the chip bag and went straight to the point.

Gu Sheng did a quick mental estimate:

“The later stages are still under projection, but for now, I only have the rough budget for the trailer.”

“How much?” Shen Miaomiao popped a chip into her mouth.

Gu Sheng held up a finger.

“100k?” Shen Miaomiao frowned.

That seemed a bit low.

After all, the trailer for Phasmophobia—which she and Gu Sheng had starred in—was done without any special effects and only cost around 100k.

Was Gu Sheng going to go the comedy route again, using live-action promos?

But before she could even suggest adding more money—

Gu Sheng spoke up: “One million.”

Whoa!

Even though Shen Miaomiao was all for Gu Sheng spending more money, hearing that number still made her jump.

One million!

For a trailer!

You have to understand—

Phasmophobia’s total budget was only about two million!

And now, this new project’s trailer alone was eating up half the budget?!

Plus!

From what she knew, a game trailer was usually about three minutes long.

Three minutes, one million!

That was straight-up burning cash!

The worst part?

Gu Sheng’s one-liner request completely shattered Shen Miaomiao’s confidence!

She wanted to burn money, sure.

But first, she had to have enough money to burn!

Thinking of that, Shen Miaomiao licked her lips, hesitating as she asked:

“If the trailer alone costs a million... how much do you estimate the total game will cost?”

For the first time, Shen Miaomiao felt a flicker of panic.

Gu Sheng hesitated for a moment, did a quick calculation, and asked:

“How much do we have?”

Shen Miaomiao shrank back: “How much do you want?”

Gu Sheng grinned:

“With the current design in mind... if we want to make this game perfect—”

“I’ll take whatever you’ve got.”