Cannon Fodder Genius Game Producer - Chapter 26

Chapter 26: The 26th Day of a Blockbuster

Ever since the official establishment of Pei Shu’s “Bu Shu Studio” was announced, a segment of Teacher Bu Shu’s die-hard fans began following the studio and its first game project online.

However, these fans were in the minority. Most players, upon hearing the news, simply had a good laugh, finding it hilarious that the mysterious group of trolls and water armies had crashed and burned so spectacularly against Teacher Bu Shu.

Once the laughter subsided, most casual “melon-eaters” were left with a general impression: Teacher Bu Shu had opened a studio, and its members included Wang Fei, the former project manager of Super God, and Jiang Ziye, the protagonist of the previous “True and False Producer” incident.

Beyond that, the majority of players didn’t particularly care what Pei Shu’s studio was actually doing.

Inside Bu Shu Studio, following the first day of discussion between Pei Shu, Wang Fei, and Jiang Ziye, the preparatory work expanded rapidly.

That very day, Pei Shu and Jiang Ziye finalized the setting directions for several player characters. Wang Fei reached out to an art team he was familiar with to begin trial-producing the art style for the game, currently code-named Project: Immortal Fate.

After Pei Shu and Jiang Ziye hashed out the key points of the game, Pei Shu had Jiang Ziye start building the framework of the game’s world-view, while he himself began constructing the main system framework. Based on the gameplay requirements and combat settings proposed by Pei Shu, an outsourced programmer contacted by Wang Fei had already begun laying down the game’s underlying architecture and designing various editors specifically made for the performance and mission requirements of Project: Immortal Fate.

Although Project: Immortal Fate was positioned in Pei Shu’s words as a “casual, relaxed game that doesn’t chase pay-to-win mechanics,” and despite the fact that a small game with a total investment of only 500,000 might not seem worth making a big fuss over to other developers, Pei Shu still insisted that Jiang Ziye not cut any corners in building the world-view framework.

If the framework design of the game system represents a game’s pure mechanical skeleton, then the world-view represents what kind of flesh and blood can cover that skeleton. Will this world have Eastern dragons or Western dragons? Is the foundation of this world’s existence magic elements or spiritual energy? Does this world span tens of thousands of years, and which era is the game currently set in?

Once the world-view framework is established, various game settings will be laid out based on it, such as the naming of different map regions, the art style of different areas, monster designs, NPC designs, and so on.

The plotlines for player characters will also be laid out within the world-view framework, and in the future, it will involve regional plots for players in different game zones.

Nowadays, major developers are competing more and more fiercely in every aspect of new games, especially the plot. Perhaps they feel that plot imagination can fly much freer than game performance. In short, new games strive to make their world-view settings and character designs “take off” right where they stand.

Your world-view is Xianxia + Steampunk? Mine is Post-Apocalyptic Wasteland + Infinite Cycle… Even some older games, perhaps MOBA types that didn’t pay much attention to world-views, have pulled themselves together in the past two years, hiring many famous authors to serve as world-view architects, intending to reconstruct their scattered lore into a coherent whole through novels.

In summary, valuing the world-view is now a major trend. In Bu Shu Studio, everyone from Pei Shu to Jiang Ziye and Wang Fei understands the importance of world-view settings, so the burden on Jiang Ziye’s shoulders was naturally very heavy.

Fortunately, Jiang Ziye was indeed a young man full of enthusiasm for games. Content involving cultural expression like world-building was originally his specialty. Thus, after receiving the task, he buried his head in the work of setting up the world-view framework.

With the heavy responsibility of the world-view on Jiang Ziye, Pei Shu began designing the overall system and gameplay for Project: Immortal Fate.

For Pei Shu, this task was actually quite difficult. After all, from the last time he made a game to now, there was an 8-year gap during which he was in a daze. It could be said there was a massive temporal chasm regarding the current gaming environment and mainstream design.

Although he had started experiencing all the most popular types of games through “shot-by-shot” analysis since he woke up, playing is one thing—being able to understand a game system doesn’t mean one can design one.

The gameplay design of a game system covers extremely intricate content. Huge possibilities can stem from the core gameplay. Considering costs, the game’s complexity, and players’ tolerance for complexity, what kind of systems should be opened at the initial launch to attract player attention? What kind of gameplay can form a perfect loop? Which mechanics are outdated and which are currently hot?

The complexity within this was also a massive challenge for Pei Shu.

Because of this, from the first day the game officially began production, Pei Shu started his journey of staying up late at the studio.

To make staying up late more convenient, Pei Shu “generously” bought sleeping bags and cots for the only three members currently in the studio, arranging everything perfectly for Jiang Ziye and Wang Fei.

Wang Fei: “…”

To be honest, as a project manager, at a time when the world-view and system frameworks haven’t even been fully built yet, he didn’t really need things like a cot.

As an existence akin to a project coordinator, more of Wang Fei’s work involved communicating requirements with outsourcing teams, following up on progress, and urging Pei Shu and Jiang Ziye along, while providing suggestions on their current output based on his experienced eyes.

“Ah, as expected.” Pei Shu wore a kind, harmonious smile: “An elder in the family is like a treasure. It’s truly great to have you here, Old Wang!”

Wang Fei had just offered a modification suggestion for his system gameplay. Pei Shu found it very reasonable and immediately started typing away at his computer document to make changes.

Hearing Pei Shu’s words, Wang Fei rolled his eyes expressionlessly.

During this time, he had seen through him. This kid Pei Shu looked gentle and approachable, but his heart was full of “bad water” likely a compensatory rebound from his honest and muddled personality during those 8 years of amnesia. Now, when Wang Fei looked at Pei Shu, he felt this guy had transformed from a naive roe deer into an old fox with at least nine tails (?).

And his words were becoming more and more annoying.

Like that “elder in the family.”

Wang Fei shot a sideways glance at Pei Shu: “Are you saying I’m old?”

Pei Shu immediately gave a well-behaved smile and shook his head: “No, no, I’m saying you, Old Wang, are a treasure of this studio!”

Beside them, Jiang Ziye, who would have been terrified seeing Pei Shu and Wang Fei sniping at each other half a month ago, was now able to blink and quietly “eat melon” (watch the drama) from a prime seat.

But he didn’t eat the melon for long before the studio’s intercom rang. After a greeting, a familiar delivery person brought three sets of exquisite afternoon tea into Bu Shu Studio, then turned and left.

Wang Fei and Jiang Ziye checked the time; sure enough, it was already 3 PM.

During this time, Wang Fei and Jiang Ziye had progressed from being surprised that the studio actually provided afternoon tea desserts to having adapted to these daily snacks sent by the “investor.”

“The people at Universal probably wouldn’t imagine that our little 3-person studio has better afternoon tea treatment than Jixing,” Wang Fei said with a laugh as he casually grabbed one of the labeled iced Americanos and a small piece of cake.

Pei Shu smiled: “It’s the investor’s doing.”

As he spoke, Pei Shu saw Li Chuyue’s avatar pop up on his WeChat.

Li Chuyue: Does Peipei like today’s afternoon tea?

Pei Shu sighed softly and typed: …Li Chuyue, you don’t need to have afternoon tea delivered to the studio every day. My studio is just one of your investment projects.

Li Chuyue: Nonsense. Peipei’s studio is naturally my most important investment project. How could it be ‘one of’ them?

Pei Shu: …

Li Chuyue: Is Peipei very busy today too? Then how about I come to the studio to accompany you for dinner tonight?

Pei Shu: …No need.

Li Chuyue: Peipei’s studio is my most valued project. Naturally, I can’t watch the studio founder have irregular meals and stay up late like a maniac. So it’s settled—I’m coming to the studio to accompany you for dinner tonight!

Having said that, without giving Pei Shu a chance to refuse again, Li Chuyue “vanished” for once.

Looking at the chat record, Pei Shu rubbed his head with a bit of a headache.

Ever since he sensed that Li Chuyue likely liked him, he had tried to distance himself to let Li Chuyue cool down, but he hadn’t succeeded before.

He thought that once the studio started running, he could use the excuse of being busy to gradually pull away from Li Chuyue, but he found that Li Chuyue still surrounded him everywhere.

This studio was funded by Li Chuyue, the office location was provided by Li Chuyue, and the studio even had afternoon tea daily and occasionally lunch and dinner—funded by Li Chuyue.

Although he had indeed used the “busy with work” reason to either sleep temporarily at the studio or return to the Daonan Road apartment late at night to avoid meeting Li Chuyue, Li Chuyue was still reminding him of his presence in various ways that weren’t obvious yet weren’t exactly relaxed either.

This reminder carried a hint of firmness within its gentleness.

Pei Shu truly had no experience in handling such a situation. Although he was 7 years older than Li Chuyue, he had been muddled under the control of the Plot Will for 8 of those years. Now that those 8 years had passed, though he had gained 8 years of age and some hazy memories out of nowhere, in terms of psychological age, he wasn’t actually much better off than the current Jiang Ziye.

Fall in love?

Where did he have the mind to fall in love when he was young?

His entire mind had been on games—playing them, reviewing them, reviewing hardware, and making them. If he hadn’t spent all his time on these things, how could he have accumulated 500 hours in the GM3-generation Sky Demon Thief?

After all, even playing 5 hours a day, that would take him a full 100 days.

And he played more than just Sky Demon Thief.

In short.

Pei Shu, who appeared calm in the face of Li Chuyue’s affection, was actually panicking inside, completely unsure of how to respond—a pureblood single dog if ever there was one.

Wang Fei saw that Pei Shu was still motionless in front of his computer, so he conveniently brought the last set of afternoon tea, labeled for Pei Shu, to his workstation.

“Eat before you work. These few minutes won’t make a difference.”

“Sigh.” Pei Shu let out a melancholic sigh.

Wang Fei frowned: “What are you doing?”

Pei Shu looked at Wang Fei and suddenly smiled: “Nothing. It’s a worry you wouldn’t understand.”

Wang “Single-by-choice” Fei looked at Pei Shu in confusion, then shook his head and turned away.

As dinner time approached, Wang Fei was about to call Pei Shu and Jiang Ziye to grab a bite when he was turned down by Pei Shu.

Pei Shu had already reorganized his feelings and said calmly: “No need to go out for dinner tonight. There’s a ‘temporary dinner’ provided by the investor.”

Wang Fei and Jiang Ziye were quite expectant when they heard there was dinner being provided. Li Chuyue was a gourmet; the quality and taste of the dinners he sent were outstanding, definitely better than grabbing a meal at some random shop nearby.

However, they didn’t expect that along with the dinner came their studio investor, Li Chuyue himself.

This was the first time Wang Fei and Jiang Ziye had seen Li Chuyue at the studio.

Li Chuyue had rushed over directly after getting off work from the Li Group, wearing a high-end tailored suit he usually wore for work.

He was completely different from his aura in casual clothes; he had the high-level executive vibe of someone who makes life-or-death decisions with a flick of the finger.

“Director Li?”

Wang Fei was the first to notice Li Chuyue and quickly stood up to shake hands and greet the director, who was visiting the studio for the first time.

Li Chuyue’s investment was a large part of why he had made up his mind to join Pei Shu’s small studio. Now, less than a month into the studio’s official operation, Li Chuyue not only arranged afternoon tea daily but also sent lunch and dinner from time to time. This level of attention made Wang Fei even more certain of the importance Li Chuyue placed on this studio.

Li Chuyue’s personal appearance today also made Wang Fei secretly affirm his thoughts—after all, given Li Chuyue’s wealth, a mere 800,000 ordinary investment wouldn’t be worth him paying this much attention to the studio.

Pei Shu didn’t stand up immediately. He was actually quite stressed about Li Chuyue’s attitude, worried that this guy might act all “tea-like” (manipulative/needy) in the studio and scare Wang Fei and Jiang Ziye.

But Li Chuyue seemed to know his worries. When he saw Pei Shu, his attitude was very natural—though this naturalness seemed to lean in a different direction.

“Peipei.” Li Chuyue smiled as he walked to Pei Shu’s side and gave him a very reserved hug.

If Li Chuyue hadn’t lightly nuzzled his ear when hugging him, Pei Shu would surely have been fooled by his mature appearance today.

Since Li Chuyue was putting on an act, Pei Shu didn’t intend to expose his true colors in front of Wang Fei and Jiang Ziye. So he didn’t push him away, but simply patted Li Chuyue’s shoulder, signaling him to let go.

Li Chuyue’s mature and steady posture was truly too convincing; Jiang Ziye didn’t notice anything wrong at all. Only Wang Fei gave a slightly confused look but didn’t pay it much mind.

When the three had dinner with Li Chuyue, Wang Fei felt again that the relationship between Li Chuyue and Pei Shu didn’t seem like that of ordinary childhood friends; Li Chuyue’s care for Pei Shu was far more meticulous.

However, Wang Fei didn’t wonder for long. Li Chuyue, seemingly sensing Wang Fei’s attention, also shook his hand with a smile.

“It is an honor to have invited Teacher Wang to join Bu Shu Studio.”

Wang Fei immediately nodded to Jiang Ziye: “No, the honor is mine.”

For the rest of the time, Li Chuyue seemed to take the ability to multitask to the extreme. He served Pei Shu food, quietly pushing things he thought were delicious in front of him, while smilingly talking to Wang Fei about the progress of the current project.

When talking about the project, Wang Fei tested the waters very directly: “…The current budget is a bit tight for game R&D and operational promotion.”

Li Chuyue wiped his hands with a tissue and smiled: “Within my capability, there is no upper limit for any reasonable funding needs of Bu Shu Studio.”

Upon hearing this, Wang Fei’s eyes lit up slightly, and he nodded: “Thank you, Director Li, for your full support of the studio.”

The dinner was a success for both host and guests.

When it was time for Li Chuyue to leave, Pei Shu personally saw him downstairs. Wang Fei had originally intended to go as well, but was turned down by Li Chuyue.

“You guys are busy. It’s fine for Peipei to see me out.”

Although Li Chuyue’s nickname for Pei Shu seemed a bit odd to Wang Fei, he put the strange feeling aside, remembering they were childhood friends.

Once Pei Shu accompanied Li Chuyue into the elevator and the doors closed, this guy—who looked so dignified a second ago—immediately slumped his head onto Pei Shu’s shoulder.

“Peipei, I missed you so much! I haven’t seen you at home for half a month!”

Pei Shu: “…”

He pushed at the head on his shoulder, but was unsuccessful.

Pei Shu had a bit of a headache. Just as he was thinking about how to handle the current situation, Li Chuyue suddenly stood up straight obediently.

Precisely then, the elevator arrived at the floor for the underground garage. Li Chuyue blinked: “Peipei, I’ll be waiting for you at home obediently!”

Pei Shu: “…”

Pei Shu pressed his brow. What was with this “tea-like” illusion that he was a scumbag wandering outside?

When the elevator doors closed again and Li Chuyue was gone, Pei Shu leaned against the elevator wall with some distress. When Li Chuyue leaned on his shoulder just now, he realized that the little friend who used to follow him had grown up to a point where he couldn’t push him away at all.

Why exactly did Li Chuyue like him?

Pei Shu sighed. Today was another day he couldn’t figure it out.

While Bu Shu Studio began pushing their own project, Jixing Studio held an internal creative proposal competition during this period.

This was a tradition within Jixing Studio, held once a month. If there was an outstanding work in the monthly competition that the studio high-level management deemed to meet production standards, they would consider giving the winner certain authority, allowing them a chance to at least make a game demo and enter the internal project initiation process of the Universal Group.

Today, Li Sheng and others had just finished reviewing the current internal submissions.

In the Jixing Studio management group:

Li Sheng: I see a pretty good idea here.

Chen Shan: I see it too.

Li Sheng: The idea is good, and the design plan is very complete. The only problem is that it might not fit the current mainstream market.

Someone seeing their discussion asked curiously: Which idea is it?

Li Sheng: The one numbered 17.

When everyone pulled the document for proposal No. 17 from the submission library, they all felt it was indeed good.

Li Sheng: If we all feel this way, let’s see who submitted it.

With everyone’s agreement, the author of proposal No. 17 finally unveiled his mysterious veil—Jixing Studio, Systems Planner: Lin Cheng.

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