Agreeing to Create Bad Games, What the Hell Is ‘Titanfall’? Chapter 85

Three days later!

Binjiang University, Zhixue Plaza.

The square was draped in red flags, packed with people!

The university's annual job fair was in full swing at Zhixue Plaza as scheduled.

Companies big and small from all over the country had set up booths, each vying for attention, and job-seeking students crowded the venue, shoulder to shoulder.

But among them—

The most eye-catching spot was a small booth near the north side.

Because, across the entire plaza, only in front of that booth was the crowd the thickest, with an endless line of interviewees.

Under the small red banner of Golden Wind Games, Gu Sheng sat there, staring at a thick stack of resumes in front of him, looking utterly dejected.

Golden Wind ended up participating in the campus recruitment after all.

Not only because Shen Miaomiao had been enthusiastic about the idea, but also because Professor Lin had promised that as long as Golden Wind showed up for the recruitment, regardless of the outcome, Gu Sheng and the other two would be exempt from both the graduation project assessment and defense, and would receive their bachelor's degrees and diplomas directly.

That condition was too good to refuse.

After all, ever since joining Golden Wind, the three of them hadn't had a moment to work on their thesis or projects, let alone prepare for the defense.

"Cheer up, Director Gu!"

Seeing Gu Sheng's gloomy face, Shen Miaomiao patted his shoulder and stuffed a lollipop into his mouth.

"Look at all these adorable students, so many young and fresh-faced juniors! How can you greet them with that expression? Makes our Golden Wind look like we have no energy or vibe at all!"

"Then how about you take my seat?"

Gu Sheng rolled his eyes and made as if to get up.

"No, no, no, better you stay put!"

Shen Miaomiao let out an awkward chuckle, quickly pushing him back into his seat.

"I don’t know a thing about your field. Better not let me mess things up."

Just the thought of conducting interviews made Shen Miaomiao a bit nervous.

After all, up to now, the only interview she'd ever conducted as the main interviewer was with Gu Sheng himself.

Back then, she’d managed to pick the one-in-a-million jackpot candidate out of a thousand loss-makers.

And even after going all out, she'd still lost over a hundred grand.

If she ended up drawing another jackpot like that?

She shuddered at the thought.

So this time, Shen Miaomiao wisely chose to retreat, leaving the main interviewer seat to Gu Sheng.

Gu Sheng, on the other hand, was feeling the pressure.

Because up to this point, out of nearly two hundred candidates he'd screened, over 95% had been unqualified.

And of the dozen or so who'd made it through, only two were truly impressive.

One was a fellow from his own department, surname Kai, given name Lang—Kai Lang.

Despite his cheerful name, Kai Lang was anything but; in fact, he was one of the most withdrawn and taciturn guys around. After three years in the same department, Gu Sheng barely even remembered him.

But as dull as he was, this guy could code like a beast. He’d even built a high-quality engine from scratch. A rare talent, for sure.

As for the other candidate, it was a feisty junior with a high ponytail and floral sleeve tattoos—Jiang Shan, a third-year student specializing in art modeling.

Her first words upon sitting down?

"Can I get an autograph?"

Gu Sheng had heard that kind of request plenty of times before. Without missing a beat, he signed a sheet for her and handed it over, which made Shen Miaomiao purse her lips in disapproval.

But—

The floral-sleeve junior immediately pushed the autograph back, looking a bit awkward as she clarified:

"Actually... I was hoping for an autograph from Xu Dajiang."

That had Shen Miaomiao bursting into laughter, smacking Gu Sheng's shoulder while teasing him mercilessly.

Gu Sheng was speechless.

Still, after getting to know her, he realized that while Jiang Shan looked carefree and a bit scatterbrained, she was a natural when it came to art—especially environment design. Her style was bold and grand, with scenes that felt too powerful to have come from a young woman’s hand: cold, hard, and brimming with futuristic, industrial vibes.

Two hundred interviews.

Ten passed.

Two outstanding.

With that kind of hit rate, Gu Sheng couldn’t help but feel a bit exhausted.

Sucking on the lollipop in his mouth, Gu Sheng let out a long sigh.

"Looks like trying to build a 15- to 20-person team through campus recruitment... it’s going to be really tough."

Hearing that, Shen Miaomiao scratched her head, puzzled.

"Isn’t it just a cooking game? Do we really need that many people?"

"Even with ten plus outsourcing, it’s not enough."

Gu Sheng shook his head.

"If the ten-person team were all veterans, experienced, and willing to pull long hours, then maybe—barely—with some outsourced support, we could scrape by."

"But the problem is... these are all rookies."

"The three of us would have to hand-hold them through every step before they’d be ready for real projects. And time... we’re running out of it."

"It’s going to be tough..."

No experience.

That was the biggest reason Gu Sheng had been reluctant about campus recruitment.

It wasn’t that he was against it in principle. In fact, he admired university students: bright, passionate, full of ambition and ideals. Plus, they had that "grateful to give back" attitude—give them the right incentives, and they’d work themselves to the bone for you. The perfect employees for Golden Wind.

But the problem was...

By the end of the month, PUBG’s project was set to kick off, and right after that, they’d dive straight into development. They really didn’t have the time to let these newbies get up to speed.

Hand-holding every single one? Gu Sheng just didn’t feel confident.

And he wasn’t sure he had the energy for it either.

Seeing Gu Sheng’s furrowed brow, Shen Miaomiao felt a twinge of guilt.

But mostly, she was feeling pretty damn pleased!

Heh heh heh!

Old Gu’s expression said it all—this project was bound to hit snags!

And once it did, the quality of the final product would suffer!

A flop!

Which meant big bucks for Auntie Me!

Thinking of this, Shen Miaomiao shot Gu Sheng a quick, mischievous look, silently mouthing an apology:

Sorry, Old Gu. It’s not like I wanted to stab you in the back. The system just handed me too many bonuses! Hang in there—when I buy my big yacht, I’ll totally take you out for a spin!

Just as she was thinking this—

Suddenly.

Another candidate sat down on the little stool in front of them.

Both of them looked up—and froze.

The man before them looked to be in his mid-thirties, average in appearance, wearing a plaid shirt and carrying a crossbody bag—a textbook programmer stereotype.

"Uh..."

Even Gu Sheng was momentarily stunned.

He’d been through two lifetimes and seen all kinds of people, and at a glance, he could tell—this guy wasn’t just some random job seeker.

The look in his eyes, the world-weariness, the vibe—he was someone who’d been grinding it out in the real world for years.

Gu Sheng opened his mouth. "You are...?"

"My name is Jiang Yun."

As he spoke, the plaid-shirted man carefully pulled a resume from his bag and handed it over with both hands, looking respectful.

"Here’s my resume. Please take a look."

Gu Sheng took the resume and glanced down.

It was clean, concise, and well-designed.

Even Shen Miaomiao, curious, leaned over to take a peek—

Name: Jiang Yun

Age: 33

Hometown: Binjiang

Work Experience: 10 years

Education: Bachelor’s in Electronic Engineering from Binjiang University

Career History: Game Project Operations Deputy Director, Game Project Planning Deputy Director, Game Project Director

Huh?

Shen Miaomiao’s brain went blank.

This... this wasn’t even the same league as the others who’d come in earlier—those student council vice presidents, art club assistant directors, radio station heads, etc. This was a whole different level, damn it!

Operations Deputy Director! Planning Deputy Director! Game Project Director!

We’re doing campus recruitment here, for crying out loud!

Not a mid-career hiring spree!

Even if you’re from Binjiang University, that was at least ten years ago. You’re way past your expiration date!

About to hire another bigshot dad into the team, Shen Miaomiao started to panic.

"Uh, this... um..."

She forced a polite yet awkward smile at Jiang Yun.

"I’m sorry, but we’re only hiring fresh graduates. You..."

But before she could finish her sentence—

A cold voice cut in beside her:

"You dare sit in front of me, and you’re not afraid I’ll slap the hell out of you?"

What?!

Shen Miaomiao shuddered.

She’d worked with Gu Sheng long enough to know—he was always a smiling, easy-going guy. Jokes, banter, teasing—he was great at all of it. She’d never seen him lose his temper like this.

"Old Gu..."

She didn’t know why Gu Sheng suddenly snapped like that, but instinctively, she reached out to rub his back, gently whispering:

"Come on, it’s not a big deal... don’t get so worked up."

In her eyes, Jiang Yun was just a bit too old, that’s all. No reason for Gu Sheng to get so mad.

But then—

Gu Sheng slapped the resume down on the table, jabbing his finger at the "Previous Works" section.

Following his gaze, she saw three game titles listed—

Fantasy Conquest, Brotherhood Adventure, Shell Warriors.

Shen Miaomiao’s expression froze.

She might not know the others, but Brotherhood Adventure? She definitely knew that one!

Wasn’t that the game that sparked her rage, leading her to storm Zhongjing, flip YiYou upside down, and tear Yan Sheng a new one?

The same game whose publisher had shamelessly sabotaged Golden Wind’s Vampire Survivor clone?

Which meant—

The man sitting in front of them...

Was the former project director of Starry Games?

No wonder Gu Sheng’s face darkened.

Even Shen Miaomiao’s expression twisted into a frown as she slammed the resume shut.

"Golden Wind doesn’t welcome you."

She waved her hand dismissively, signaling for Jiang Yun to scram.

Jiang Yun, seemingly prepared for this reaction, bowed deeply, looking apologetic.

Then, biting his lip, he spoke in a low voice:

"I... I know coming here out of the blue was rude, but... could you please spare me a few minutes, just to hear me out? Thank you."

Yes.

The "expired graduate" sitting at Golden Wind’s recruitment booth—

Was none other than the man who once stormed the mini-game market with Fantasy Conquest, then fell from grace after Brotherhood Adventure—the former Starry Games project director:

Jiang Yun.

The day before.

"Asian Esports Game Developer Conference Set to Kick Off – Huayu Entertainment Publishes List of Domestic Game Studios Participating"

"Golden Wind Rising Strong, Aiming for the Asian Games"

"MFGA About to Resonate Across Asia? Industry Insiders Predict Golden Wind Will Continue Developing FPS Games!"

"Top of the List! What Surprises Will Golden Wind Bring This Time?"

"Innovation Upon Innovation! Veteran Game Reviewers Say That for Golden Wind to clinch the crown, they'll have to innovate again!"

"..."

Inside an underground parking garage, Jiang Yun sat in his ten-year-old Bora, scrolling through his phone.

One headline after another flashed across the screen.

He couldn’t help but sigh.

Just half a year ago, Golden Wind was still a fledgling game studio, a tiny sapling in the industry. Meanwhile, Starry Games—his old company—had been a veteran powerhouse in the mini-game market, a top-tier studio without question.

But now?

Golden Wind had grown from a sapling into a towering tree, thriving, lush, and even starting to extend its branches internationally.

And Starry?

Had changed its name and was barely holding on by a thread—half-dead, really.

That’s right.

Ever since the Vampire Survivor incident, YiYou had pulled Starry’s games from its entire platform.

Once that happened, Starry’s parent company wasted no time in firing the then-vice president Chen Hang, telling him to pack his bags and get lost—literally wherever was farthest and coldest.

Then, with a flip of a hand, they rebranded Starry as StarRui, accepting a 50% revenue share agreement just to stay alive, and placed it under XunTeng Platform’s umbrella.

After that?

Radio silence. They didn’t care whether the company lived or died.

The newly appointed vice president, realizing he’d been banished to a corporate wasteland, gave up on trying. Every day at work, he either played cards or scrolled through his phone, and when it came to company strategy, his motto was simple: copy.

So in the following three months, StarRui churned out five different Vampire Survivor clones.

Aside from Shell Warriors, which did okay, the rest barely made a ripple in the market.

The whole company? A joke. Zero innovation, zero passion, just waiting for a slow death.

Jiang Yun knew.

If things continued like this, the company would eventually collapse, and he’d be out of a job.

But quitting now? That wasn’t a smart move either. He had aging parents to support, and a kid at home.

Thinking of all this, Jiang Yun lowered the window, lit a cigarette, and took a deep drag, the smoke curling around his furrowed brow.

Most people hit their stride at thirty.

But at thirty-five, he felt like he was falling apart.

He used to stand proudly on stage, presenting Fantasy Conquest, basking in the cheers of players and media alike—a star developer, a shining talent.

Now?

Just a washed-up has-been.

As he scrolled through his phone, lost in thought, one headline suddenly caught his eye:

"It’s Coming – Golden Wind Announces Major Hiring Spree! Preparing to Launch a Blockbuster for the Asian Games!"