Endless Sea is usually the target of complaints, but today someone secretly opened up a new front, slyly promoting a new game underneath by praising one while bashing the other.

“Not to warn Endless Sea or anything, but next door at Dreamscape, they’ve launched a new chip, and rumor has it the industry tests say it’s even better than SEA. Pre-orders for Legend of Radiance have already broken records, so if the game’s actually good, quite a few people might jump ship. Your game might just end up deserted.”

“Check out that foxy lady from the other game—looks amazing, super lifelike, even acts cute. Don’t believe me? Go look for yourself. I’m planning to snag some anniversary perks here and then split. Tired of the wooden NPCs in Gods and Demons. Bye-bye.”

The forum is rarely ever one-sided. Whenever someone bashes a game while hyping another, there’s always someone ready to fire back.

“Ha, bye means bye. I have no idea if Dreamscape’s chip is amazing or not, but they sure know how to pay for fake reviews. Claiming it outperforms SEA is just wild talk—might as well say they’re giving away money.”

“The marketing is a bit much, really. Trying to compare themselves to Gods and Demons is like begging for attention. No matter how much I complain, I’m not gonna let just any company drag it down.”

“Yeah, looks like Dreamscape’s got their bot army, but seriously, Yu Haiqing seems to be getting cocky. If he keeps this up, Gods and Demons is gonna sink, Endless SEA is gonna sink, and the whole company’s bound to fold eventually.”

People argue about everything on the forum, but whenever this name comes up, a weirdly eerie vibe seems to surface.

Even Xie Shuangxue, the NPC who’s been lurking, can sense it.

Yu Haiqing, who started Endless SEA from scratch, is the current President of Endless SEA and the developer of Gods and Demons’s Main Brain Chip, SEA—the very man responsible for the bloody drama on the Player Forum.

“Good luck, dude. I admire your courage. But remember to turn off your messages, or his fan club’s gonna show up soon to give you a warm welcome.”

“What’s the deal? This dog Yu Haiqing has fans too? And wow, your little fan club seems… complicated.”

“Have you seen that face? Having fans isn’t that strange, is it?”

“Is it really strange to have fans? I’m here to back our boy Yu and give a little lesson on Yu’s achievements. Our President Yu won the Alliance’s New Star of Technology Award at 15 [tiny star effect], joined a major smart chip project at the Alliance Technology Department at 19 [flower effect], successfully developed the SEA chip at 24, founding Endless SEA, now the most profitable game company in the Alliance [fireworks effect]. This year, he was crowned one of the Top Ten Young Entrepreneurs in the Alliance [trophy effect]… There’s too much to list, taking Yu with me.”

“Sorry, but with Yu’s height, I think you can’t carry him, better put him down.”

Xie Shuangxue: …

He’s a low-level NPC and can’t see these fancy effects, but there’s a picture attached below this comment, which he can view. It’s the cover of a financial magazine from the current month.

On the cover, a man dressed in a simple black suit with strikingly handsome, cold features—basically the very definition of “young and promising”—is staring right at you, enough to catch anyone’s eye.

Faceless as he is, Xie Shuangxue looks at it a few times.

Poor NPCs are all subject to complaints, but having fans really is a different experience.

“Oh wow, making little charts too? So now Endless SEA, this garbage company, thinks it’s got some superiority complex?”

“And what about it? Look at the homepage. My favorite scientist, who’s got looks and brains, is miles better than the game streamers you watch.”

“So what if they’re streamers? You think streamers don’t matter? Didn’t the original Gods and Demons rise to fame thanks to big-name streamers?”

“Haha, good one. The sun rises thanks to a rooster’s crow. Yu Haiqing’s been the major shareholder of Lin Jiao Live since last year; he’s already the financial backer for a lot of streamers. Surprised? Really?”

“Tone it down a little. Sure, Endless SEA might be the leader in holographic gaming, but Lin Jiao Live is just a newly built platform, snagging a bunch of second-rate streamers. It’s hardly gained traction, who knows if it’ll even last till next year. Why did Yu Haiqing even buy it, I wonder.”

Xie Shuangxue: …

Although there’s a lot of information here, this crowd really does love to bicker. After reading for a while, he starts to feel a headache coming on.

He initially came to the forum to look for any ways NPCs could save themselves, but after two months of sporadic learning, aside from some useful game info, most of what he’s found is fan wars—and endless pictures of President Yu.

Complaining while obsessively playing, Gods and Demons’ popularity only keeps climbing. The company really isn’t going under anytime soon.

He can’t understand the players.

In just this short time, the light on his wrist has already been drained by a tenth. It feels like every time people get heated and spam GIFs or videos, his hard-earned light drains away fast.

The flat interface mode really can’t hold up. Stop bickering, go argue somewhere else!

Save me some power, will you?

Recently, the game system’s been acting a bit strange, probably due to internal tests for the new version. For instance, right now, Xie Shuangxue keeps hearing a faint “zzzzt” in his ear, like an electric current flickering, giving him splitting headaches.

The forum is also pretty unstable; the screen flashed a few times before returning to normal, and during the flash, he noticed it drained some of his light too!

More power lost!

Completely engrossed in the forum, Xie Shuangxue doesn’t realize that the gray fog surrounding him seems to have thinned slightly, as if there’s a pair of eyes watching from beyond the boundless mist.

Meanwhile, the man stirring up a storm in the forum is inside the machine room at Endless SEA, a flashing light from the machines illuminating his face like a scene in a movie.

Though Yu Haiqing is practically a forum celebrity, he himself keeps a low profile and rarely appears in public. The photos circulating online are mostly the same few ones.

At 27, he’s relatively young in the business world, but his sharp, imposing features and intense demeanor create a powerful presence, especially while he’s working, looking as though strangers should stay far away.

If those boastful keyboard warriors were actually in front of him, they probably wouldn’t dare raise their voices, let alone call him “old dog Yu.”

In the machine room, only a secretary stands by his side, observing his serious expression as he works without pause, apparently troubled by the current SEA upgrade. She’s been silent for nearly half an hour now.

While Yu Haiqing works, she’s lost in other thoughts.

To be honest, she’s always harbored a bit of a crush on this boss, and right now, she can’t help but feel even more drawn to him.

You can’t blame her. Yu Haiqing, President of Endless SEA, is known both inside and outside the industry, with looks and fortune that leave nothing to be desired. Plus, he’s single, without even a hint of scandal, naturally drawing many eyes his way.

The position of Yu’s personal secretary is highly coveted. The last secretary, Linda, saved up a nice sum and left to start her own business. The replacement couldn’t keep up, thinking she could play dumb like some Mary Sue and capture his attention. She was promptly transferred out. It took all her effort to land this role, and she’s held on for over half a month now.

Unlike other simpletons, she’s got both skill and finesse.

Clearly, Yu Haiqing doesn’t care for weak little flowers. He’d appreciate someone strong enough to stand beside him.

Like right now, after her half-month groundwork, it’s clear Yu Haiqing recognizes her abilities, and with only her by his side today, it shows his trust.

A smart hunter should move first, anticipating the target’s thoughts. She knows Yu Haiqing’s current state well and figures it’s time to take the next step.

Today, the company’s atmosphere has indeed been odd. Although the anniversary event preview for Gods and Demons has been prepared and the activities finalized, it was supposed to go live today. However, Yu Haiqing personally held it back last night.

Coincidentally, last night, Dreamscape, another holographic gaming company, released a three-minute promo for their new game, set to launch on Gods and Demons’ anniversary date—a direct challenge.

Outside, everyone’s buzzing about it. Social networks are full of chatter, and plenty in the industry are watching the drama.

So, Yu Haiqing entered the machine room early this morning and hasn’t left since.

SEA, the main brain chip of Gods and Demons, has been undergoing continuous upgrades for the past three years. This isn’t news, but what makes this time special is that Yu Haiqing himself is overseeing the process, showing how seriously he’s taking this anniversary.

His current look of concentration suggests he’s worried Dreamscape’s new game will affect Gods and Demons. Although Endless SEA has expanded its business, the Gods and Demons department remains its core, and naturally, Yu Haiqing’s priority.

Wouldn’t it be perfect timing if someone were to help him out?

“President Yu, you don’t need to worry,” she spoke softly, taking the opportunity. “I’ve been keeping an eye on Dreamscape’s moves. Although they’re keeping details of Legend of Radiance tightly under wraps, I’ve gathered some intel on their upcoming promotion through some connections. I prepared a market analysis report for you last night, it’s on your desk. Rest assured, as long as we act in advance, Gods and Demons will remain the best game on the market.”

Yu Haiqing raised his head, glancing at her with some surprise before replying, “This isn’t within your job scope. It’s unnecessary.”

His tone was neutral.

Yet, to have him speak up at all at a time like this felt like attention to her. She gently tucked a stray lock of hair behind her ear, revealing her delicate, pretty profile.

“It’s my pleasure as part of the company to relieve you of worry; I’m happy to do this. It’s no trouble for me,” she replied, her voice softening just a touch. “Although working overtime last night meant I didn’t notice I was the only one left in the office—got a bit spooked, to be honest.”

She thought she noticed a change in Yu’s gaze, but her anticipation was cut short by his next words.

“What I mean is, Endless SEA has a structured workforce. This isn’t part of your role, and there’s no need to put in extra effort.”

“…Huh?”

“The game department is Gou Yuan’s responsibility, and he has a dedicated team monitoring public sentiment and industry trends, with daily reports sent to him an hour before closing. Compared to them, your efficiency is average,” Yu continued, “Additionally, our company strictly adheres to the Alliance’s Labor Protection Laws. We don’t encourage overtime. Employees working overtime for work-related reasons are given extra compensation, at three times the pay for weekdays and five times for national holidays, with hours logged and sent to HR for monthly payment. This was all covered in onboarding. Did you not pay attention, or are you questioning HR’s arrangements?”

“I, I didn’t mean that…”

“Please leave.”

Yu Haiqing didn’t bother to listen to her explanation.

If she hadn’t spoken, he wouldn’t have realized she was still there.

SEA’s upgrade isn’t particularly challenging—he began working on it two months ago. Today is just about waiting for results. The supposed “competition” with Dreamscape isn’t his primary focus.

The secretary, having miscalculated, left the machine room with an ugly expression, only to run into the incoming Gou Yuan.

This was none other than the esteemed Department Head Gou of Gods and Demons.

With a technical background, Gou Yuan once gained fame as a young hacker. Gods and Demons’ three-year success owes much to him. He’s slightly overweight, pale, and a little blank-faced, usually dressed in the same gray cotton shirt and walking with a floating step.

Knowing Yu Haiqing so well, he quickly guessed what had happened from the secretary’s expression.

“Not satisfied with the secretary again, huh?”

Yu Haiqing didn’t look up. “I just want a normal person working here.”

“She’s not normal?”

“She keeps guessing my thoughts out of nowhere, doing unnecessary things, and just hinted that she’s the only one in the company who’s dedicated enough and then played the victim. This is not what a secretary should be doing,” Yu glanced at him, looking somewhat puzzled. “Besides, I’ve already reminded her a few times that these tricks don’t work on me.”

Once or twice, he could forgive, but it’s gotten tiresome.

Gou Yuan stifled a chuckle, merely shaking his head with a sigh.

Indeed, the man is the same as always, highly attuned to people’s tricks but just never playing along.

Yu Haiqing, a true solo straight-laced guy who’s a hundred times more complicated than a typical bachelor—it’s no wonder he’s never dated anyone.

Nobody knows his type, but clearly, it isn’t someone scheming.

“You’re late,” Yu Haiqing reminded him, here to work, not to discuss his boss’s personal life. “What were you up to?”

Gou Yuan sighed, “Arguing with Wei Lan.”

“Why?”

“I asked her to make one more revision on a key character, and she refused, calling me ‘Gou the Skinner’ and a ‘capitalist’s lackey.’” He recounted. “She’s way harsher than you were to your secretary.”

Wei Lan, lead artist of Gods and Demons.

As one of Endless SEA’s founding members, Wei Lan even derived her name from the core of the company—the SEA main brain chip. She’s got seniority, skill, and a fiery temper. Sometimes, Gou Yuan feels like she’s his boss.

Yu Haiqing pondered for a moment, reminding him, “I’ve never advocated pointless overtime. Besides, didn’t I allocate company shares to you before the end of the year?”

“Yeah, so she quickly evolved to calling me a shameless capitalist, a corporate traitor, a despicable worker’s enemy, and threatened to report me to the Alliance for breaking labor laws,” he lamented. “I only asked her to make another revision. How hard is that?”

Wei Lan herself suddenly appeared in the doorway, glaring with dark circles under her eyes, ready to answer in person. Very hard.

“One more revision” to an employee is like a death sentence.

“Chun Yao and several characters have already been revised nearly a hundred times. They’re finalized, I’m not revising anymore,” Wei Lan insisted, shooting a glare at Gou Yuan. “He’s just anxious about being outdone by Dreamscape.”

“So what?”

Gou Yuan admitted. Despite his pudgy, friendly appearance, he’s a perfectionist to an extreme. If unsatisfied, he’ll demand revisions until people go insane. As a result, the Gods and Demons team and players regularly curse him, but he’s unfazed.

As he spoke, his expression grew tense, locking eyes with Yu. “Honestly, President Yu, have you taken a good look at the Radiant Legends promo?”

Yu Haiqing hadn’t.

The machine room had a spare holographic headset. Without another word, Gou Yuan placed it on him, and the three of them were transported to a new scene.

High above misty mountain peaks, cultivators wielded swords in a bamboo grove. Then came a world of mystical creatures, with giant beasts roaring close by, the sheer vastness of the world and the meticulous quality of the production on full display.

The trailer’s final shot featured a few beautiful fox-eared youths leaping through the scene, waving as if inviting the viewer to follow.

The Radiant Legends preview focused on fantasy world exploration and NPC interaction. The few stunning characters shown alone had already attracted a legion of devoted fans.

Especially those fox-eared youths—impossible to tell if they were male or female. The interactive scenes alone had already enchanted the masses, calling them “wife” and “husband.”

The boyish figure gently grabs your hand, his fluffy tail brushing your palm, eyes gazing straight into yours with a 90% simulation rate, making it hard to tell if it’s real or virtual.

Even Wei Lan, who’s designed countless characters, felt her heart skip. She recognized the lead artist Dreamscape hired—an old rival in the field and undeniably skilled.

But Yu Haiqing was the exception.

The headsets they wore were connected, so even in the fully immersive experience, Wei Lan could see his expression. It was the same as always.

When the fox-eared youth approached shyly, rather than feeling charmed, he even furrowed his brow slightly, clearly unfazed by the competition’s display.

But for those like Gou Yuan, seeing players practically losing their souls to this trailer was enough to spark anxiety.

Gods and Demons might be the top game, but as developers, maintaining vigilance against complacency is the key to preventing decline.

Didn’t he see players completely mesmerized?

For the third anniversary of Gods and Demons, the stakes couldn’t be higher. He wanted to push for perfection, but Wei Lan wouldn’t agree, and not just for the sake of avoiding overtime.

“My Chun Yao isn’t supposed to have that kind of vibe,” Wei Lan argued. “You need to adjust your mindset. Maybe giving players extra anniversary rewards would work better than chasing trends.”

“Fine, but if you won’t change Chun Yao, give me a character like that.”

“Like what? You think it’s that simple? Just because you see something good, you think you can have it?”

The two of them went back and forth, restraining their volume because Yu Haiqing was right there.

Yu Haiqing remained silent, knowing intervening now wouldn’t help. He sighed, head slightly bowed, seemingly counting down until he heard a “ding.”

None of them removed their headsets, which was perfect timing.

With that sound, he closed the Radiant Legends promo, accessed the backend, and opened the modeling feature.

The first character to appear was Princess Chun Yao.

Suddenly, a long blade swung out between the two quarreling artists.

Wei Lan jumped, turning to see the strikingly radiant face right up close.

It was Chun Yao.

He—or rather, “she”—was mid-way through a player interaction segment where, after the player defeats a boss, Chun Yao finishes it off with a final blow.

Chun Yao was truly beautiful, embodying a kind of gender-ambiguous allure. Having long disguised himself with special aids, his true identity remains a mystery. At this moment, he wasn’t wearing formal armor. Due to the storyline at this point, he was dressed in luxurious robes, contrasting sharply with his usual weapon.

The combination of elegant robes and deadly weaponry created an oddly harmonious contrast. After wielding the blade with finesse, he gazed at Wei Lan, standing where the player would be, and said, “Thank you for your aid. The demonic aura has intensified lately, but there’s no need to worry. With the Feather Clan’s protection, you’re safe as long as I am here.”

His expression was perfectly dignified, with a barely perceptible hint of warmth.

After finishing, he sheathed his blade and offered a faint smile.

Wei Lan took a deep breath.

She’s looked at this character she drew countless times, tired of him, really, but this time, she feels there’s something different.

The features are the same, yet his gaze seems more alive. It’s like watching a skillful actor, but now, it’s as if the person stands right beside her.

Simply put, he feels much more “alive.”

It wasn’t an art adjustment.

The SEA main brain chip had changed.

They knew Yu Haiqing had been personally working on SEA’s upgrade, but no one understood the full extent of it until now.

The SEA chip has always been essential to Gods and Demons. While previous updates were minor, the biggest hurdle in the entire holographic gaming industry has been surpassing 90% realism—no company has managed to exceed Endless SEA’s mark of 90%. Most others hover around 85%.

Yet, Dreamscape’s hype this time is about their new chip reaching a 92% realism rate, surpassing SEA’s by 2%, specifically in character interaction.

After Chun Yao’s art passed inspection, other characters appeared, each one feeling different. It wasn’t just Chun Yao, confirming their suspicions.

Gou Yuan, with his technical background, was the first to react.

“Is it complete?”

He asked, full of excitement.

Yu Haiqing neither confirmed nor denied it. “Just finished, but it’s still in the testing phase, a bit unstable.”

“Seems stable to me! Why unstable?” Gou Yuan was already planning. “Once our update’s out, we can throw Dreamscape’s bot army right back at them!”

In today’s holographic games, the main brain chip is crucial, which is why Gou Yuan was so thrilled.

Gods and Demons’ massive world, front-end, and back-end rely on SEA to generate and manage much of the content automatically.

The main brain chip upgrade is decisive for Gods and Demons, and it’s a significant breakthrough across industries. Thanks to advanced tech, many jobs are replaced by intelligent machines, allowing most people to spend extended time in virtual spaces.

Leave it to their President Yu to make bold, game-changing moves. Only he could handle this tough situation.

But just as he spoke, the screen froze.

In the distance, a blurred human figure appeared, indistinct, with a circular progress bar spinning on it.

“What’s going on?”

Wei Lan paused, glancing at the list before understanding, “It’s not the system; it’s this NPC whose final form hasn’t been generated yet. He’s been in the queue for a while because Gou keeps arguing with me over Chun Yao. Now it’s his turn. This is… Xie Shuangxue.”

A supporting NPC with a few scenes.

This NPC had only 3D sketches before, and this was his final stage—character modeling, which SEA was responsible for.

The art team only handled characters SEA couldn’t do alone, like core characters requiring detailed adjustments. For background NPCs, Wei Lan simply sets the requirements, and SEA automatically generates them.

Since Xie Shuangxue had a significant role, the art team prepared initial sketches for him.

He wouldn’t have been delayed until now, but Chun Yao’s gender-ambiguous look was challenging, requiring several revisions. This squeezed the timeline for some supporting characters, so Xie Shuangxue was only now reaching the final character modeling stage.

Honestly, even now, his original sketches weren’t complete, so Wei Lan felt a bit guilty.

The system didn’t lag for long. After a moment, the blurred figure on the screen moved.

When SEA’s models first load, there’s a default animation where the character steps out from a foggy background and gradually opens their eyes, adding a dreamy effect.

Xie Shuangxue stepped forward in this manner.

Dressed in simple white robes with a pale blue-trimmed brocade coat draped over his shoulders, long hair tied loosely with a few strands falling across his face, he was exquisitely refined, exuding an aristocratic aura that no one else had. He seemed to be crafted from jade and gold.

As per the storyline, his eyes were a unique icy blue, jewel-like, beautifully striking, with raven-like lashes that blinked softly, captivating anyone’s gaze.

Such finely honed beauty didn’t belong to the mortal realm, as if he could only exist in such a dreamlike space.

Wei Lan, having designed countless breathtaking characters, was momentarily stunned.

But then she quickly realized something wasn’t right!