Agreeing to Create Bad Games, What the Hell Is ‘Titanfall’? Chapter 11
On the way back to the dorm, Gu Sheng was in a great mood.
The sky looked high, the clouds far away.
The flowers smelled fragrant, the grass was fragrant, the air was fragrant—and so was Lu Er’s mouth.
“Fk your fking sht! This f**king game is pssing me the f**k off!”
“This dogsh*t designer has to be a total psycho! If I keep playing this fking game, I’m basically a fking masochist!”
“Aaaargh——@￥%……&#%￥……”
People really do develop a taste for Cybertronian language as they age.
Gu Sheng pushed open the dorm door, listening to Lu Er’s wild Cybertronian-style ranting rap, nodding in satisfaction.
“I could hear the birds singing and flowers blooming from downstairs. What a poetic vibe from our dorm,”
“What kinda dumb*ss game got you this pissed o—”
Sh*t.
He didn’t even finish his sentence before he saw Cat Mario on Lu Er’s laptop screen.
…Suddenly, he wasn't so sure about recruiting this guy as lead programmer anymore.
Seeing Gu Sheng return, Lu Er threw down the maddening troll-faced cat and greeted him.
“Old Gu, you're back early today. How’d the interview go? Any progress?”
Lu Er knew that ever since the internship period started, their dorm’s boss—Gu Sheng—had been on an interview grind.
Three to four interviews a day, nearly a month straight, out from morning till night.
He’d told Gu Sheng before—if it was just about getting an internship certificate, he could pull some strings through family connections and get one easily.
Just a piece of paper, after all.
But Old Gu was stubborn. He insisted on finding a position on his own.
After a while, Lu Er stopped offering help and switched to checking in on his mental state daily.
Because as far as he knew, Gu Sheng had been hustling for over a month, and so far… no luck.
He was seriously worried that one day, Gu Sheng might just snap and gift him and Da Jiang their grad school recommendation slots.
“Some progress, I guess,”
Gu Sheng sat down and took a sip of water.
“Where’s Da Jiang?”
“Oh, he went out to grab some instant noodles,”
Lu Er said as he flicked a cigarette from the pack and tossed it to Gu Sheng.
“Da Jiang’s leaving tomorrow. Said his family already set up an internship for him.”
“We were just talking about calling you.”
“How about we go out for a few drinks tonight?”
As he spoke, Lu Er seemed a little down.
College friendships were fragile. Everyone came from different corners of the country. Once they parted ways, they might never see each other again.
But college friendships could also be incredibly strong. After all, the old saying goes: “One of life’s strongest bonds is sharing a classroom together.”
Sure, college was like a mini society. People schemed and competed for student council roles or scholarships.
But for the three of them—lazy slackers that they were—“scheming” was limited to fighting over “lanes,” “buffs,” and “kills.”
Now, with internships coming up, if they went their separate ways, the next time they might meet would be a brief moment on graduation photo day.
After that, getting back together would be nearly impossible.
Gu Sheng glanced at Da Jiang’s neatly packed bed, then slowly exhaled a puff of smoke.
After a pause, he asked:
“Did Da Jiang say what kind of job his family arranged?”
“Some small advertising company in their hometown,”
Lu Er replied.
“He’ll be doing ad design and modeling stuff. If it goes well, he might get a full-time offer.”
“Oh,”
Gu Sheng nodded.
“And you?”
“Me?”
Lu Er shrugged.
“No clue. I’ve already got the internship certificate handled, so doesn’t really matter where I go.”
Hearing that, Gu Sheng nodded, thought for a moment, then looked up at Lu Er.
“Er, how about… you don’t leave.”
The second he said that, Lu Er froze.
Then he dragged his chair half a step back, looked at Gu Sheng with a wary eye, and tugged his collar up a little:
“Old Gu… I’ve always thought of our friendship as pure and comradely. And I’ve got a girlfriend, y’know? I’m straight…”
Gu Sheng: …
He seriously considered smacking this idiot on the head.
“I’m talking about a f**king job, you dumb*ss!!!”
Gu Sheng was completely speechless.
“Oh! Hah—”
Realizing the misunderstanding, Lu Er sighed in relief.
“You should’ve said so earlier. I thought our friendship had… changed.”
“I’ll change your grandma, you little punk.”
Gu Sheng rolled his eyes and got to the point.
“I got a job offer a couple days ago. A newly founded game company hired me. But they’re short on staff—wanna come work with me?”
The moment he said that—
Lu Er’s eyes lit up!
Don’t let his usual slacker vibe fool you—he was dead serious about gaming.
Otherwise, he wouldn’t have chosen to study game design in today’s stagnant domestic gaming scene.
He wanted to be in the gaming industry.
But the field was locked down. Even experienced professionals were struggling to find jobs, let alone students who hadn’t even graduated yet.
If he had a choice, Lu Er wouldn’t have let his family arrange some half-baked internship.
And now!
Old Gu actually found a job in the gaming industry and was offering to bring him along?!
“Holy sh*t!”
Lu Er exclaimed.
“For real, Dad?!”
“You shameless b*stard…”
Gu Sheng was stunned by how fast Lu Er changed faces.
Still, he chuckled and nodded.
“Yeah. You in?”
“Of course I’m in! Hell yes I am!”
Lu Er nodded like crazy.
“This is what I studied for—and I get to work with you? Count me in!”
This time…
It was Gu Sheng’s turn to clutch his collar.
“Can you not look at me like that? What’s with the thirsty eyes? You trying to flip roles now?”
Lu Er bashfully twirled his fingers and threw him a flirty look:
“If it’s Senior Gu Sheng… maybe I could be persuaded…”
Gu Sheng was silent for two seconds.
Then he stood up, bent down, and grabbed a chair.
“Chill, chill, bro—I was just messing around!”
Lu Er grinned and begged for mercy, seeing Gu Sheng ready to throw hands.
Sure, Lu Er had a foul mouth, but there was no denying—he truly admired Gu Sheng.
As the dorm’s big brother, Gu Sheng had always been the most capable and well-rounded among the three of them, maybe even among their whole class.
It felt like he had life experience far beyond his years and an EQ that was through the roof.
Lu Er once read something—
If spending time with someone always felt natural and light, and they could catch everything you said, even correct and guide you…
Congrats. That means your emotional intelligence and experience are being completely outclassed by that person.
That’s what high EQ and experience looked like: top-down compatibility.
People like that usually had four traits—broad knowledge, strong empathy, an open heart, and a big-picture mindset.
And clearly, Gu Sheng was one of them.
Especially in gaming.
He had what felt like dimensional-crushing insights. The game empire blueprint he drunkenly sketched once still lingered vividly in Lu Er’s memory.
If a guy like that wasn’t worth following, then Lu Er honestly didn’t know how else he’d break into the industry he’d dreamed of.
Thinking that, Lu Er said seriously,
“Then I’m counting on you to guide my career, bro.”
Then he added,
“By the way, Old Gu—this game company you joined, have they made anything before? I’ll look it up and get familiar with their style.”
Just as he said that—
The dorm door swung open, and Da Jiang’s voice rang out from the hallway:
“What game company? Sheng-ge, you got an internship?!”