Agreeing to Create Bad Games, What the Hell Is ‘Titanfall’? Chapter 74

“Wait... is this a dead end for me?”

Across the table, Fang Hongwei, the lead designer at Guangyao Games, looked down at the chessboard and couldn’t help but laugh:

“President Ding, you really are one step ahead.”

His words carried a double meaning, as he gave Ding Kai a thumbs up.

Ding Kai waved it off with a chuckle:

“Timing is everything. That’s how we’ve kept Guangyao standing strong all these years.”

Hearing this, Fang Hongwei nodded sincerely.

He’d worked under Ding Kai for years and genuinely admired his sharp mind.

It had to be said—Ding Kai was someone who knew how to seize market opportunities.

Just like this time!

When Left 4 Dead caused a sensation at the HuayuDian media event, Ding Kai didn’t even wait for the expo to end before calling Fang Hongwei to immediately organize a development meeting for Fearless Sniper.

As for himself, he caught the next available flight straight back to ShenZhou!

That very night, Guangyao Studios held an emergency meeting with one goal—

Delay the release, and incorporate second-gen FPS mechanics into their game!

At the meeting, Ding Kai’s first words were:

“I know some of you might have objections, but swallow them. Just shut up and work hard. Once the bonuses roll in, you won’t have any objections left.”

That was that.

So, after over two months of intense polishing, Fearless Sniper integrated second-gen FPS mechanics into its design.

Specifically, it retained the first-gen FPS style—virtual crosshairs, UI design, competitive gameplay—but added a more realistic gun-raising aim mechanic.

Of course—

Ding Kai hadn’t expected that when Left 4 Dead launched, Golden Wind would introduce even more unique actions like slides and climbs.

But in his eyes, those were just minor details.

If they worked well, he could always patch them in later.

The priority now was to release Fearless Sniper while the second-gen FPS hype was still hot!

That was the only way to catch the strongest tailwind and, just like the chessboard earlier, capture the market king!

Yes—capture the market, not capture Golden Wind!

Because in Ding Kai’s eyes, Golden Wind was just another small studio to be trampled underfoot. Just another idea generator, a tool to provide inspiration—nothing more, nothing worth mentioning.

Plus—

With time, backed by XunTeng, Ding Kai could pull his usual tricks, using all sorts of promotions and campaigns to blur the lines of where second-gen FPS originated.

He would position Guangyao as the sole pioneer of this genre, the gold standard, the industry flagship!

Out with the good, in with the bad. Outsource the innovation, take the glory.

That was how Ding Kai and Guangyao operated.

And Ding Kai wasn’t shy about it.

He knew exactly what he was doing—and he was damn proud of it.

As they cleared away the chess pieces, Fang Hongwei brewed a pot of tea, poured a cup for Ding Kai, and continued as he poured for himself:

“I’ve got everything arranged.”

“Tomorrow’s promo will be all over the platforms—major media, minor media, self-media, gaming influencers... everywhere you look, our name will be there.”

Fang Hongwei sipped his tea and added:

“And I’ve already given Shark Live a heads-up.”

“Tomorrow during prime time, the top streamers across all categories will be playing our game.”

“Oh, and I also... subtly hinted to Shark... that Left 4 Dead from Golden Wind might need to take a little step back...”

Hearing Fang Hongwei’s report, Ding Kai nodded with satisfaction:

“Well done. Yes, they should step aside for a bit. After all, it’s not like they’ve shown much interest in promoting their game, hehe.”

The two clinked tea cups, preemptively celebrating their victory.

Then, after a brief pause, Fang Hongwei said hesitantly:

“By the way, President Ding... what about Golden Wind? Should we...?”

He raised three fingers.

Anyone else might not understand, but Ding Kai had worked with Fang Hongwei for years—he knew exactly what that gesture meant.

Right now, Golden Wind’s collapse was practically a foregone conclusion in their eyes.

This wasn’t the first time Guangyao had crushed a small studio using this strategy.

Time and time again, they’d proven—once they deciphered a game’s core mechanics and made it their own, no one could withstand XunTeng’s overwhelming marketing onslaught.

Of course—

Ding Kai and Guangyao weren’t completely heartless.

They knew that once small studios were backed into a corner, they’d lash out in desperation.

Even if those powerless outbursts didn’t make much of a splash against a behemoth like Guangyao, they were still an annoying nuisance.

Too many buzzing flies could still make you sick.

That’s when Ding Kai would play the “merciful hand.”

Treat Them, Behead Them, or Take Them as Dogs.

“Treat Them” meant sitting down for a meal, having a friendly chat, trying to smooth things over.

Of course—

Some bones are soft, some are hard.

If those small studios weren’t satisfied with just a meal, if they dared to demand Guangyao pull the game or issue compensation and apologies—if they were that delusional—

Ding Kai had nothing left to say.

If you won’t take the face I’m giving you and dare to challenge the giant, then fine—let’s end it.

Market suppression, platform bans, smear campaigns, manufactured hype—

For a giant like Guangyao, crushing a small studio was laughably easy.

And the third card—Take Them as Dogs.

“Oh, you’re saying I copied your game? Got proof? Want to sue me? I’ll even help you find a lawyer!”

What a joke!

Forget it—legal cases like this were almost impossible to win, even if you took it to the Supreme Court.

So why not make a deal?

“I admire your talent. I appreciate your ideas. If you insist that this concept and mechanic came from you, that’s fine.”

“Join XunTeng Games. Become part of Guangyao Studios. Work with us, shoulder to shoulder.”

That way, they could publicly acknowledge the idea’s origin.

Not only that—

They’d hand over the future development of the game, give them full creative control, and claim:

“This IP was crafted by the original team!”

At that point—

You’d have money, people, resources, and marketing.

As long as the project made money—lots of it—you’d be hailed as the undisputed godfather of this game.

Hell, they’d even hype you up as a genre leader, a pillar of the entire Huaguo gaming industry.

Three trump cards. Three ultimate weapons.

Unbeatable.

Since Guangyao’s founding, Ding Kai and Fang Hongwei had faced countless small studio reps.

And every time they played these cards, they never lost. Not once.

And this time—

Fang Hongwei’s three fingers meant exactly that.

Tomorrow, Fearless Sniper would launch, and Left 4 Dead from Golden Wind would surely be squeezed out.

Which meant they had to think about how to “handle” Golden Wind.

“Hm—”

Ding Kai mused for a moment, then said thoughtfully:

“That is a problem...”

Fang Hongwei smacked his lips:

“They’ve always been close with YiYou Platform, so I doubt they’d agree to be taken in as dogs...”

“So... should we...?”

He raised his hand in a throat-slitting gesture:

“Behead?”

But—

As soon as he said it, Fang Hongwei realized something was off. He shook his head, mentally scolding himself.

No way.

The boss behind Golden Wind was a Shen.

Sure, Golden Wind’s public face was always Gu Sheng—the superstar designer, front and center at expos, panels, and events, leading the charge.

But Fang Hongwei hadn’t forgotten—

The real owner of Golden Wind was that clueless, mascot-like Shen Miaomiao.

And she—was Shen Wanlin’s precious daughter!

And Shen Wanlin?

He was on the same level as the head of XunTeng—the very top of the corporate food chain!

Behead the precious daughter of Shen Wanlin? What, were they tired of living?

Plus, that mess with Xingmang Games was still fresh in their minds—the weeds over that grave were already three meters tall.

This was tricky.

Fang Hongwei furrowed his brows.

If Golden Wind were really just Gu Sheng’s operation, things would be so much simpler.

Whether it was beheading or taking them as dogs, they’d have full control.

But now...

Fang Hongwei smacked his lips for a while but couldn’t come up with anything. Finally, he looked helplessly at Ding Kai:

“Can’t take them as dogs, can’t behead them... so what do we do? Compete fairly?”

Even as he said it, Fang Hongwei couldn’t help but laugh.

Fair competition? What a joke.

But—

Just as Fang Hongwei was at a loss—

Ding Kai let out a low hum:

“Actually... it’s not impossible to behead them.”

“Huh?”

Fang Hongwei’s eyes widened in shock.

“But... their company’s backed by Shen Capital...”

“So what?” Ding Kai shot back.

“Just because Shen Capital’s behind them, doesn’t mean we can’t hire headhunters, offer high salaries, and poach their top talent, dismantle their team.”

“People want to grow. Even Shen Capital can’t stop someone from switching jobs.”

“Besides, Golden Wind has Shen Capital backing them, but we’ve got XunTeng. We’re equals here. This is just business, a matter of methods.”

“Nothing wrong with that, right?”

Hiss—!

Hearing Ding Kai’s words, Fang Hongwei couldn’t help but suck in a sharp breath.

What a move!

Right.

Since they couldn’t take all of Golden Wind, and they couldn’t get too dirty with Shen Capital watching—

They’d just poach.

Bleed them dry. Hollow out their team.

Once their core was gone, Golden Wind would collapse on its own.

This method... even mid-tier and large studios couldn’t withstand it, let alone a small studio!

Thinking about it, Fang Hongwei couldn’t help but slap his thigh:

“That’s why you’re the boss, President Ding!”

“On one hand, we crush them with our marketing, take their market share through fair competition...”

“On the other, we quietly hire headhunters, offer high salaries, and poach their people!”

“This is a textbook gut punch! Golden Wind will be left speechless—”

...

I’ll have no words but tears to cry!