Agreeing to Create Bad Games, What the Hell Is ‘Titanfall’? Chapter 71
Not bad at all!
After months of development and fine-tuning,
two and a half months after HuayuDian’s massive promotional campaign (which, of course, Shen Miaomiao knew absolutely nothing about),
Left 4 Dead was finally complete.
Every known bug had been squashed,
and it had officially passed the national motion-sensing gaming safety certification!
The game secured its release license,
with a set launch date on Qingming Festival!
10.85 million yuan—
To finish development, Golden Wind had gone all-in.
They funneled nearly every last cent of their game profits into this project.
From Shen Miaomiao’s perspective, this was a reckless gamble.
With that 100x rebate card in her pocket, if this project tanked completely, she’d walk away with nearly 1.1 billion yuan.
At that moment, she’d achieve true financial freedom—
no more dad’s life plans, no more playing corporate puppet.
She’d sail her own yacht, roam the oceans, travel the world—
a carefree woman of the sea!
As for Golden Wind?
Of course, she wouldn’t just let it collapse.
She’d pull one or two hundred million from her rebate stash to kickstart the company again,
hand it over to Gu Sheng, and let him use it as a fresh starting point—
to realize his dreams, to reach the pinnacle of life!
If the company became profitable down the line,
Gu Sheng could toss her a few hundred thousand a year as a dividend.
If he didn’t, no biggie—
she wasn’t counting on that money anyway.
That was Shen Miaomiao’s perfect scenario.
On the flip side, the Iron Triangle—
with Gu Sheng at the helm—
also saw this project as their do-or-die moment.
As the flagship title of FPS 2.0,
the Iron Triangle had the company’s full backing,
and they were determined to repay that trust with the best results possible.
In their eyes, this was a gamble where failure wasn’t an option.
The game market was brutal—
success and failure could flip in an instant.
If this game blew up, FPS 2.0 would become a household name.
If it flopped, FPS 2.0 would be a cautionary tale—
the laughingstock of the industry, doomed to fade into obscurity.
They had no idea Little Nezha had a god-tier cheat system backing her.
To the Iron Triangle, this project—built on almost all of Golden Wind’s profits—
if it failed,
it’d be a devastating blow to the company.
They knew Shen Capital was just a name on paper.
No one—not even them—believed it had ever actually given a dime of funding.
If they failed?
Little Nezha would go home—
either to inherit the family business outright or through a marriage alliance.
The three of them? They’d have to start job hunting.
Granted,
even that worst-case scenario didn’t sound so bad.
Little Nezha wouldn’t go broke, and Gu Sheng—as a Supernova Designer—was one of the hottest names in the industry.
Even with a failure under his belt, people would still line up to hire him.
And with the system on his side, he’d have no problem making a comeback.
But!
Gu Sheng couldn’t accept that ending.
He didn’t know why—
but he just couldn’t accept it.
He couldn’t!
The winds stirred on Qingming.
8:00 PM sharp.
With another full-platform promotional blast from YiYou,
Left 4 Dead launched—on time!!!
“It’s New Year’s! It’s New Year’s! It’s New Year’s!!!”
At exactly 8 PM, Zhou Shuyi popped up on her stream,
wearing an extra-long, custom-made watermelon-plush headband—
and immediately started goofing off!
“Family... who else gets it...
Left 4 Dead is finally live...
No delays... I’m so happy...”
The chat was going nuts—
a flood of [bad luck] comments across the screen!
‘Girl, you are so annoying!’
‘Ugh, just opened Shark and there you are, default watermelon girl on the homepage—bad luck...’
‘Holy sh*t, only Zhou-jie can do content like this!’
‘For real... can we get some normal content here?’
‘Everyone else is just pretending to be wacky. You and Yao Shui-ge are the only real weirdos on this platform.’
‘Weirdos? Who? (Shengzi-ge peeks in)’
‘HAHAHAHA oh right, Golden Wind too.’
‘I’m losing it—dropping a game on Qingming Festival? Only Golden Wind would pull this stunt.’
‘Enough talking! Bring in Captain Yin! Let’s survive!’
‘Bro, I’ve been waiting for this day all April—I can’t take it anymore!’
‘Without Left 4 Dead, it feels like ants crawling all over me. Finally, it’s here. (yawns, tears up, body contorting)’
‘Dude, your withdrawal symptoms are insane...’
‘Make FPS Great Again!’
‘...’
The hype was unreal! The wait had been long!
Even before the stream started, the chat was flooded with gifts,
and Zhou-jie couldn’t help but get emotional!
She ripped off the watermelon headband:
“Let’s do this!!! I’ve been grinding my aim for two months straight—tonight, I’m proving myself!”
“Special Forces Zhou Shuyi—requesting deployment!!!”
Before she could finish,
Bobo called in on WeChat:
“Zhou Zhou! Zhou Zhou! We’re waiting for you—get over here!”
“Oh, oh! Coming, coming!”
Soon enough, the Survivor Squad was back together—
same lineup as always:
A-Yin leading the charge, with Liuliu, Zhou-jie, and Bobo in the squad.
After two months away, standing on the rooftop again,
A-Yin felt a surge of excitement.
The real-time visuals of the game had noticeably improved thanks to Golden Wind’s ongoing polish—
the environmental details, lighting, gunmetal sheen... everything was a step up.
Sure, as Gu Sheng had said, they couldn’t match Shunteng’s Fearless Sniper level of visuals,
but overall, the game was looking really good—totally immersive.
“Say a few words, team!”
Rallying the squad, A-Yin cleared his throat over voice chat:
“Two months of grinding! I believe our squad has made a quantum leap in skill!
Tonight—let’s see what we’re made of!”
“Now, let’s shout our motto—!!!”
And with that—
Zhou-jie and the others shouted in unison:
“Three-point alignment—aim before you shoot—!!!”
Pffft—
The chat erupted with laughter!
‘My review: can’t hold it in anymore.’
‘HAHAHAHAHA—how much trauma did they give the boss with this?’
‘I was mid-sip and sprayed water all over my keyboard!’
‘My mom just told me to get out if I’m gonna laugh this loud.’
‘Top-tier content—just as good as the ghost-hunting squad.’
‘Honestly, this is better than the Spring Festival Gala.’
‘This motto has some seriously cursed vibes.’
‘I can already see how this ends...’
‘...’
The chat was in stitches,
but Captain Yin was surprisingly pleased with the response:
“Good! Very good! Full of energy!”
He hefted his fire axe, gave a mighty swing:
“Open the door! Let’s go kill some zombies!”
Bang!
The rooftop door swung open,
and the squad smoothly descended the stairs—
back to that familiar yet unfamiliar stairwell.
The level name floated faintly above them—
Death Center.
It was familiar because the stairwell layout was the same as the demo version—
the exit blocked, the familiar fire door shut tight.
It was unfamiliar because, in the final version, Gu Sheng had added flame effects to various obstacles.
The stairwell was ablaze—smoke billowing, the air thick and stifling.
Just watching it made you feel like choking.
The atmosphere was chaos incarnate,
and the squad felt the tension mounting.
Creak—
A-Yin pushed open the fire door.
Beyond the corridor, flames roared, crackling fiercely,
black smoke rolling along the ceiling.
At the far end stood a familiar zombie.
But this time, A-Yin didn’t reach for his pistol—
he gripped his fire axe tighter.
He’d wanted to try the axe back in the demo,
but never got the chance—his teammates had shot the zombies to bits before he could.
This time, he’d get his moment.
“This zombie’s way too close to the horde,”
A-Yin warned, turning to the others:
“As soon as it drops, it’ll alert the swarm. So I’ll lure them in—be ready, and I mean it—aim before you shoot!”
Clearly traumatized by his teammates,
Captain Yin triple-checked the instructions.
“Got it!” Liuliu nodded.
“No problem!” Bobo promised.
“Don’t worry, Captain Yin! You go do your thing!” Zhou-jie gave a thumbs up.
A-Yin paused:
“...Why does that sound so ominous coming from you?”
Muttering to himself, he didn’t dwell on it.
Gripping the axe, he crept up behind the zombie.
His arm raised, muscles tensed—
a natural reaction in a motion-sensing game,
even though in most games, no matter how hard you swung,
a melee hit was just a canned animation:
blood splatter, ragdoll tumble, end of story.
But this time—
“Haa—!!!”
Vrrrmm—!!!
Crack—Shhhh—Thunk!!!
With a mighty chop, the axe cleaved the zombie clean in half!
SPLAT—!!!
Blood exploded like a burst pipe, splashing all over A-Yin’s face—
his entire field of view drenched in red!
As the zombie’s bisected corpse collapsed,
gore and viscera coated the floor.
A-Yin’s pupils dilated in shock!
Only then did he remember—
before all the disclaimers and legal notices,
Golden Wind had specially marked the game as a
16+ (M) rating—
in full compliance with HuayuDian’s guidelines for motion-sensing game ratings!
Two years ago, the government had introduced these ratings to encourage a healthier gaming environment.
And Left 4 Dead,
with its intense blood and violence,
was classified as Teen Restricted!
At first, A-Yin hadn’t cared—
he’d played tons of shooters before; how bad could it be?
A little blood, no big deal.
But he hadn’t expected...
under Gu Sheng’s brilliant Dismemberment System,
the visuals of a zombie’s death were this insane!
The best part?
Golden Wind’s sense of balance was spot on.
The blood, the severed limbs—
it all struck a perfect balance between realism and fantasy.
Not gross—
just... weirdly satisfying.
Like slicing melons!
“Holy! F*!”**
A-Yin was floored!
He’d never experienced a kill system like this!
Then—
Snap!
The stream cut off instantly—
[This streamer has been flagged for violations. Please stand by...]
The chat exploded!
‘Holy sh*t! That blood spray!!!’
‘HAHAHAHA one axe and the whole stream’s gone!’
‘Even Chenxiang splitting the mountain wasn’t this wild—you’re more badass than Chenxiang!’
‘WDNMD this is insane! Absolutely insane!’
‘No wonder it’s 16+—it deserves it!!!’
‘Dude... this game... dude...’
‘As we all know, text can’t convey sound (laughs).’
‘Okay, I’m not a psycho, but... this is so satisfying. (tears up)’
‘Hail MFGA!!!’
‘I thought ragdolls were the peak of kill animations, but this dismemberment system is next level. Completely off the charts...’
‘I can’t take it anymore, boss! If you’re not streaming, I’m playing this myself!’
‘Squad up, squad up, squad up... drop your IDs, bros!’
‘Feels like ants crawling all over me...’
‘Same, my withdrawal symptoms are getting worse...’
‘...’
As YiYou x1 users in the chat itched to jump in themselves,
A-Yin’s stream suddenly came back online:
“I’m back, I’m back—holy sh*t...
Sorry, everyone, I didn’t notice the rating at first. The mod team flagged me.
The stream’s marked with the age restriction now—we’re good to go.”
Sure enough, the viewer count had dropped by a few thousand—
some under-16s must’ve been booted.
But the chat was still on fire!
‘This rating system is the best thing ever!’
‘Thank you, HuayuDian! Without the rating, this game probably wouldn’t have passed the review!’
‘I’ve got no talents, so I’ll just bow to HuayuDian.’
‘Also, bowing to Shengzi-ge—this dismemberment system is f***ing awesome...’
‘I’ll bow to the art team too—phenomenal visuals...’
‘And the dev team—this whole system is incredible...’
‘I’ll bow to A-Yin for hosting, thanks for the content...’
‘Man, Qingming really is the perfect holiday. First thing in the stream, it’s like we’re all attending a mass funeral...’
‘HAHAHAHAHA——!!!’