Agreeing to Create Bad Games, What the Hell Is ‘Titanfall’? Chapter 6
Shen Miaomiao's heart skipped a beat.
What did she mean by “a bit of a discrepancy”?
You’ve got to be kidding!
She had already pegged this game as a “zero-profit, participation-only” type of project!
When it came to sales, theoretically, there was no room for it to go down.
Which meant...
Shen Miaomiao frowned instinctively, a very bad feeling creeping up in her chest.
“So…”
She hesitated to speak, her tone filled with uncertain panic:
No way, right? Don’t tell me there were actually over a hundred suckers who bought Cat Mario!
A pained expression crept across Shen Miaomiao’s face.
She tossed the question out like a landmine.
On the other end of the call, Chu Qingzhou chuckled softly.
“President Shen, what’s going on? Weren’t you just saying yesterday that you were super confident in this game?”
“Oh, right,”
She sounded like she suddenly remembered something:
“I actually owe you an apology. Yesterday, when you said this game had massive potential thanks to its unique gameplay, I didn’t really believe you.”
“But clearly, you had incredible foresight. Your sense for the market is really something else!”
Now, under normal circumstances, hearing someone hype you up like that would make anyone happy.
After all, who doesn’t like a good ego boost?
But not Shen Miaomiao!
Hearing Chu Qingzhou’s words didn’t make her happy—in fact, she broke out in a cold sweat!
What the hll kind of premonition is this…*
If Chu-Chu is praising me this much, then how many copies did the game actually sell?!
“Uh, Chu-Chu, we’re all on the same team here, no need to sugarcoat it,”
Shen Miaomiao couldn’t hold back her anxiety any longer. She cleared her throat and cut her off:
“So, Director Gu’s Cat Mario sales figures are…?”
“Haha, President Shen, your estimate of a few hundred copies is way too conservative!”
Chu Qingzhou’s voice on the other end was cheerful and upbeat:
“We had an amazing launch! In just 12 hours, total sales hit 4,872 copies, with revenue at 9,744 yuan. We’re about to break even already!”
“…H—how much?!”
Before Chu Qingzhou could even finish—
Shen Miaomiao let out a high-pitched scream that sounded even more excited than Chu Qingzhou’s, her voice practically cracking.
“Haha, 4,872 copies!”
Chu Qingzhou burst out laughing.
“So? President Shen, did that catch you off guard? Are you surprised? Shocked?”
We’re screwed.
Shen Miaomiao’s vision went black.
She collapsed right onto the bed like her system just rebooted.
Too surprising… it was just way too surprising.
So surprising she felt like opening a window and celebrating with fireworks—by jumping out without using the stairs or elevator!
Is this how Cinema taught him to make games?!
Are these players insane? Just throwing money away on this garbage?!
Nearly 5,000 copies?!
Over 9,700 yuan in revenue?!
So I only lost about 300 yuan?
Wait—no! That’s just today’s sales!
At this rate, Cat Mario would hit over 5,000 copies easily, and breaking even was just a matter of time!
And once the system determined that revenue exceeded investment before settlement, it would automatically mark the investment as successful—disabling the rebate on the spot!
Thinking of that, Shen Miaomiao desperately opened the system panel:
【Investment Rebate System】
【Current Investment: 10,000 yuan】
【Expected Rebate: 3,000 yuan】
【Settlement Time Remaining: 6 days 15 hours】
Gulp.
“Wh—why…”
Lying on her bed, Shen Miaomiao looked utterly defeated, like a villain who’d just lost their final boss battle—one step away from coughing up blood.
Meanwhile, on the other end of the line, Chu Qingzhou was way too hyped to notice her young miss’s despair:
“Haha! We got lucky! A streamer just happened to choose our game during their show last night!”
“And the result? Hahaha! I laughed so hard I nearly cried!”
“Here, I’ll send you the video in a bit—you have to see it. It’s absolutely hilarious…”
After the call ended, Shen Miaomiao lay motionless on the bed like a lifeless husk.
A full half-hour later, she finally let out a long sigh and groaned out loud:
“Ahhh—my sweet, sweet money—!!!”
This was f**king insane.
Who the hell could’ve predicted this?!
What’s more, she had spent all last night brushing up on three years of casual game sales data!
According to YiYou platform stats, in the past three years, there were fewer than 500 games that broke 1,000 copies on launch day.
As for games breaking 5,000 on day one? Fewer than 50!
And those games that did break 5,000?
They were either sequels to mega-hits, made by famous designers, or backed by long-established companies.
But their game—Cat Mario?!
It was just a shoddy piece of trash cobbled together by a newly restructured company, handed off to a clueless senior-year intern designer, with janky graphics, bizarre characters, and hellishly designed levels!
Why the hell did it sell this much?!
Could it really be, as Chu-Chu said, just dumb luck from getting picked up by a major streamer?
With that thought, Shen Miaomiao grabbed her phone and opened the video Chu Qingzhou had sent her.
“…My review? Meh, not impressed.”
On screen, streamer A-Yin casually tossed his hand toward the camera, looking cool and confident.
The abstract little kitty in-game had just braved countless traps, and now stood proudly atop a staircase, smiling toward the nearby finish flag: (=°ω°=)
A-Yin was feeling smug.
“See that? What’s that up ahead? Chat, shout it out for me—”
The live chat exploded with laughter:
‘It’s LIFE -59’
‘Hahahaha minus sixty lives’
‘I love how cocky you are, it’s hilarious’
‘Already forgot about that ambush death just now?’
‘I swear, if you reach that flag in one go, I’ll launch a rocket on stream’
‘Not the rocket again LOL’
‘LMAO we’re banning rockets in this chat from now on’
‘Let’s tell the platform to change rockets into pipe-shaped items’
‘Y’all are shrimp-hearted, just cruel…’
The barrage of sarcasm and memes made A-Yin feel like he’d walked into a tavern full of roastmasters.
Fair enough.
He’d been gaming for years. He had killer plays and clutch moves under his belt, sure—but he’d never been this thoroughly humiliated.
It was just one level.
And yet he’d died 59 times!
And that’s not even counting the 3 starter lives—Cat Mario’s first level had wiped him over 60 times!
This was unbearable!
“Don’t jinx me, guys! I’m almost at the finish—no way I’m dying again!”
A-Yin pumped his fists at the screen, trying to psych himself up:
“One big jump, and I’m clearing this. No more deaths!”
And then—
He took a deep breath:
“Let’s GOOOOO!!!”
With a leap, Cat Mario soared gracefully through the air, about to land perfectly on the flagpole!
Swoosh—!!!
Out of nowhere, a big red bullet message shot across the screen—
【Clear the level? No way in hell!】
BAM!
The red bullet text smashed into Cat Mario like a freight train, sending it flying off-screen.
LIFE: -60
Silence.
A-Yin’s face turned from green to red, then to purple, like a volcano on the verge of eruption.
Then, his face flushed completely red as he slammed his fist on the desk!
THUD!
The keyboard and mouse bounced. The controller went flying.
That day, everyone in A-Yin’s apartment complex heard a blood-curdling, frustration-laced scream—tinged with the faintest hint of sobbing:
“If I ever f**ing play this game again, I’m a gddamn idiot!!!”
“Get lost! Get ouuuut!!!”
“GET OUT OF MY PC!!!”
Watching all this unfold, Shen Miaomiao outside the screen couldn’t help but wince repeatedly.
Uh-oh… did we just push someone over the edge with our game?