Agreeing to Create Bad Games, What the Hell Is ‘Titanfall’? Chapter 92
Tap, tap, tap…
The sound of Chu Qingzhou’s high heels echoed sharply through the dead-silent hallway.
She didn’t dare walk too fast, but she didn’t dare stop either.
Because she knew—at that very moment, more than a dozen pairs of eyes were quietly watching her back.
Her legs felt like jelly.
Hang in there… just a little longer… victory is right around the corner…
She consoled herself in her heart as she saw Miaomiao’s office door just ahead.
But the next second—
“Secretary Chu, in such a hurry to leave?”
His tone was mild, his manner calm.
But to Chu Qingzhou, it was like the devil’s whisper, cold and sharp, like a spirit summoning her soul.
Her scalp tingled. Goosebumps prickled across her skin.
She turned, glancing at the silent, expressionless faces behind her, then at Gu Sheng who was now walking up.
Forcing a smile:
“Ah… Director Gu… What a coincidence, haha…”
Gu Sheng smiled faintly as well, pointing behind him.
“We…”
Before he could finish, Chu Qingzhou cut him off:
“Team building, right? Haha, don’t worry, I won’t go tattling to President Shen about how you didn’t invite her.”
She flashed a friendly, sincere-looking smile at him.
D*mn. Quick on the uptake!
Gu Sheng nodded, silently noting that Secretary Chu wasn’t just a pretty face.
No wonder Lao Shen had placed her in Golden Wind as Princess Shen’s assistant—this woman definitely had skills.
At least in terms of emergency reflexes, she was top-tier.
Gu Sheng knew when to stop pushing. He nodded, letting it slide, then raised his phone.
“Then how about you join us for a bite, Secretary Chu?”
“Oh, no, no need, hehe,” Chu Qingzhou smiled back, lifting her own phone just enough to catch a faint ding—
“I just came to bring this USB to President Shen. I’ll be on my way.”
“Ah… well, no need to see you out then?”
Gu Sheng smiled, locking the screen that had been displaying a QR code.
“No need, no need, haha, dinner’s ready at home. I’ll be heading back with President Shen now…”
With that, Chu Qingzhou lowered her phone, nodded, and practically bolted, vanishing like a shadow into the closing elevator doors, leaving no trace behind.
In the underground garage, she handed the USB to Shen Miaomiao.
“Here, keep it safe. Don’t lose it.”
“Oh,” Shen Miaomiao nodded, carefully tucking the USB into her bag and giving it a little pat.
“What took you so long?”
Chu Qingzhou flinched, doing her best to keep her expression neutral.
“It wasn’t even plugged into the computer. I found it in your drawer. Forgot, didn’t you?”
“Oh—”
Shen Miaomiao thought for a moment, her memory a bit hazy. She patted her forehead.
“Probably. Otherwise, I wouldn’t have forgotten it.”
She didn’t dwell on it, restarting the car and heading toward the garage exit.
As they left, Shen Miaomiao didn’t notice the quick message Chu Qingzhou typed in WeChat—
[We’ve exited the danger zone. Proceed as planned. OVER…]
Seasons turned, and deep autumn arrived.
That day, at Binjiang Jiayuan Apartments, 21st floor—
Click.
The door opened, and Jiang Yun stepped in, kicking off his shoes.
“I’m home—”
Hearing the sound, his wife peeked out from cleaning inside the house.
“Huh? The sun’s out in the west today? What brings you ho—”
Her voice cut off mid-sentence.
There at the door, Jiang Yun stood holding a huge bouquet of blooming red roses, and in his other hand—a sea-blue gift box.
“Surprise!”
Jiang Yun grinned wide at her stunned and delighted expression, holding out the flowers.
“Happy anniversary, honey.”
Her eyes instantly reddened.
It had been years—years—since Jiang Yun had given her such a surprise.
But this surprise wasn’t without reason.
Ever since he joined Golden Wind, he’d changed.
He walked and spoke with a new energy.
Even at meals, he couldn’t stop talking—about the project, about the challenges they’d overcome, about tomorrow’s meetings, the visuals they were working on, the design discussions coming up… on and on and on.
She didn’t always understand, but she could see it—
The man she’d once been head over heels for, that brilliant, driven young talent…
He was back.
“This must’ve been expensive…”
She bit her lip, a mix of scolding and delight in her voice, but the blush blooming on her cheeks was impossible to hide.
“And this!”
Jiang Yun handed her the bouquet and placed the box on the table.
“Makeup—something called Hot Chick or whatever. I asked my coworkers for help picking it. Even Secretary Chu said this brand is top-tier!”
Her excitement bubbled over, her face glowing.
The cost of the gifts didn’t matter.
What mattered was…
Her husband—her passionate, energetic husband—was back.
“Our project’s finished. The final product is amazing. And tonight, the trailer drops!”
Jiang Yun spread his arms.
“Two good things in one day—how about a hug?”
With a happy squeal, his wife couldn’t hold back any longer. She leapt into his arms.
“I knew it! My husband’s the best!”
“Hahaha!”
Jiang Yun laughed out loud, spinning her around the living room, before they collapsed onto the couch.
He leaned in close, whispering softly in her ear.
“Ah!”
Her cheeks flushed deeper than the roses, her voice shy and scolding.
“It’s only five-thirty. We haven’t even eaten yet…”
Jiang Yun grinned wickedly.
“Well, the kid’s at grandma’s tonight. Let’s go out for dinner, have a real date. But for now…”
He scooped her up in his arms, raising a playful brow—
“Let’s start with… you.”
“Done!”
Liu Peiqie put down his chopsticks, casually grabbing the curtain beside him to wipe his mouth. Checking the time—
“DNM, right on the dot! Eight o’clock sharp—tell me that’s not perfect timing. Learn from me, rookies!”
The stream chat erupted—
“I can’t go a day without seeing Peiqie wipe his mouth with a curtain.”
“The curtain: Should’ve just died in the factory.”
“Even Yaya’s using curtains now.”
“No escaping it, huh?”
“Time’s crawling… there’s still a minute left. If I don’t see the PUBG trailer, I’ll die.”
“Five months! You know what I’ve been through these five months?!”
“Sheng-ge really knows how to milk it. Announces the structure at the opening, drops a concept art every few days, keeping us hooked.”
“Old dog move.”
“D*mn, after the trailer, we still gotta wait another week for the game? I’m dying here!”
That’s right.
Today was the final production deadline for all Asia Dev Conference games.
All 25 games participating would drop their trailers simultaneously.
After a week of hype and promotion, all games would launch next week, starting the competition for a spot at the Bird’s Nest esports tournament.
And among them—
No doubt, the game everyone was waiting for was PUBG.
Gu Sheng’s proposed Battle Royale concept at the opening conference had been too intriguing.
Everyone wanted to see what this game was really about—whether it could truly deliver what Gu Sheng had promised.
As the livestream buzzed with excitement—
The clock struck eight.
Click.
Peiqie had been watching the clock.
Right on time, he hit refresh—
Instantly, the “Coming Soon” banners disappeared from the Asia Dev Conference website.
Replacing them was a grid of colorful trailers for all the participating games.
Front and center—
PlayerUnknown’s Battlegrounds.
This was one of the perks for winning the Most Anticipated Game Award.
“Here we go, here we go, here we go…”
Peiqie rubbed his hands together, clicked the video—
Boom, boom!
A deep drumbeat thundered.
[Golden Wind Game Presents]
Boom, boom!
Another drumbeat, as the roar of an engine revved to life.
[Director: Gu Sheng]
Boom, boom!
[PlayerUnknown’s Battlegrounds]
As the final drumbeat hit—
The sound of rushing air filled the speakers, along with a man’s harsh shout—
“Jump! Jump! Jump! Get the f**k down now!”
From a first-person perspective, the protagonist opened his eyes—
Inside a transport plane cabin.
All around him, men and women in matching vests and shorts, parachute packs strapped on.
Looking down—
His hands were shackled in dark, heavy iron cuffs.
Huff—huff—huff—
The protagonist’s breathing quickened, chest heaving.
Clink.
A burly warden in uniform unlocked the shackles.
Looking down at the ground far, far below, then back at the warden’s fierce face—his breathing became ragged.
He shook his head, about to plead—
BAM!
The warden didn’t hesitate—he slammed a boot into the man’s stomach!
Whoosh—!
The world flipped—
The protagonist tumbled, plummeting through the clouds.
One by one, prisoners were tossed from the plane.
They fell through the air, through turbulence, speeding toward an island far below.
Snap!
As the parachute opened, Peiqie let out a strangled yell—
“Holy—sh*t—!!!”
What kind of entrance was this?!
Jumping from a plane?!
Peiqie was stunned, wide-eyed.
The chat went wild—
“F**k! They’re parachuting!”
“Wait—is this just the trailer, or is it real gameplay?”
“Probably just the trailer. If they actually make you skydive in VR, that’s insane.”
“Any other studio? Maybe not. But Golden Wind? Hell, they might actually do it!”
“Wait—seriously? Starting with a skydive? Holy sh*t…”
“I’m begging for the skydive to be in the real game, okay?!”
“Same! I’d jump a hundred times a day!”
“You said it!”
Thud!
A heavy landing sound silenced the chat.
The impact jarred the protagonist’s knees.
No time to react—
A man nearby leapt up and, like a rabid dog, lunged, fist swinging!
Whoosh—
The punch whooshed past his ear—he ducked instinctively, then countered—
A brutal punch smashed into the man’s face!
Smack!
Blood sprayed, splashing through the air—
Transforming into a bullet that pierced a woman’s head in a nearby building.
She fell—blood blossoming like a flower on the wall, dripping down into a blooming grenade that rolled at a man’s feet and exploded him into a cloud of mist.
The blood mist drifted out the window, carried by the wind over a chaotic cityscape—
Gunshots cracked through the air, bodies dropped from rooftops, blood spattered from windows, grenades rolled through doorways, fire blazed—
A symphony of slaughter, a fusion of blood and bullets—
A brutal, bloody opera.
And when the chaos finally stilled—
The camera returned to the blood-drenched, battle-scarred protagonist.
Now fully geared—
White shirt, blue jeans, a sturdy vest, a camo helmet.
Two guns slung over his back, a pistol tucked into his belt.
His breathing eased.
Pshhh-chhk!
He cracked open an energy drink, chugged it down.
Kicking the motorcycle’s starter—
VROOOM!
The engine’s roar joined the wail of bombers overhead.
Explosions rolled across the landscape behind him—
But the man, once panicked, was now steady.
As the bombers unleashed their carpet of destruction—
He twisted the throttle—
VROOOM!
And in the middle of the firestorm, the armored man tore through the flames—
And the game title appeared on screen once more—
[PlayerUnknown’s Battlegrounds]
Whoooosh!
The trailer’s conclusion sent the chat into a frenzy.
Parachuting, brawling, a symphony of gunfire—blood and fire intertwined, a brutal dance of life and death!
A savage, thrilling spectacle that left everyone’s blood boiling!
No doubt about it—
PUBG’s appearance had shattered the gaming world’s expectations of competitive shooters.
It was like the bombers at the end of the trailer—
an overwhelming, unstoppable force, sweeping across the FPS market with unmatched ferocity!
The chat exploded in a frenzy—