[This is just a game—I want everyone to be able to play it]

Due to the virtual cabin, Tong Yu logged into the game several hours later than usual today. He connected directly from the secret room. Just as he was about to ask the shop assistant about the day’s situation, someone grabbed him.

“Mr. Tong, you’re finally online.”

Tong Yu looked at the man in the suit and tie, taking a moment to recognize him: “You’re that… person from the game company?”

“Zhang Xin, manager of the game development department at Lan Hai Gaming Group,” Zhang Xin reminded him.

Tong Yu said “oh.” This guy was dressed casually last time, but now he was in formal attire, so Tong Yu almost didn’t recognize him. “Are you waiting for me?”

“Mr. Tong, have you forgotten?”

“What?”

“About the game copyright,” Zhang Xin paused, “You haven’t forgotten, have you?”

Tong Yu remembered. He hadn’t forgotten about it, but he hadn’t been thinking much about it either. “No, I haven’t forgotten. It’s just that after you brought it up last time, I didn’t hear anything, so I thought you had forgotten. I was actually planning to get in touch with other game companies.”

“Don’t! Don’t!” Zhang Xin immediately panicked when he heard Tong Yu wanted to contact other game companies. “It’s not that I didn’t get back to you, I’ve been actively pushing this forward. Escape Room is a brand-new game, and for new games, the company always needs to do some research. These past few days, I’ve been working on that.”

“And the result of that research?” Tong Yu asked.

“Let me first explain our analysis of this game. According to our investigation, for energy consumption, the most effective is the first live broadcast. During the first live broadcast, because no one knows the game content, both participating players and viewers watching the broadcast have very high energy consumption. But once the game plot is spoiled by the live broadcast, the subsequent energy consumption becomes very low, probably only 10% of the first time. Therefore, this isn’t a game that can be repeatedly played. Even for enthusiasts, replaying it three times is already the limit.”

Tong Yu agreed with this. The game was all about the thrill. If you knew all the escape codes and scare points, even the most timid person wouldn’t be scared after playing three or four times.

“So we believe that to attract more players, the best way is to maintain the game’s mystery.”

Tong Yu understood: “You want to stop the live broadcasts.”

Zhang Xin nodded: “Because of the Ghost Bride live broadcast, the advantages of the escape room game have been fully demonstrated, and we don’t need more live broadcasts to prove it. So, we thought that if there’s new content in the future, we could only promote parts of the game scenes and general plot, building up the suspense. Players who want to know the specifics would have to play the game themselves. And every player participating in the game would have to sign a non-disclosure agreement to ensure the game’s effect. As for profits, you don’t need to worry. So far, the income from live-streaming the game is about eight million star coins, and even if it goes up further, it won’t exceed ten million. But once it goes offline, that ten million could just be one day’s revenue.”

Tong Yu asked, “What’s your proposed price?”

Zhang Xin: “Escape Room is currently the only game that can scare players offline. In the virtual world, games are always priced by energy consumption. We can adopt two pricing models: first, agreement pricing. Taking StarCraft as an example, eight thousand star coins of game time can consume about hundred thousand R energy. So we would convert it at that ratio. Assuming a player consumes one hundred thousand R energy in the game, they would be charged eight thousand star coins after the game.”

“The second is a fixed price. Based on our research and calculations over this period, the average energy consumption for Ghost Bride escape room players is 89,235R. We could price it at 72,000 star coins.”

Tong Yu frowned: “Over seventy thousand? Many people probably wouldn’t be able to afford that.”

Even though Tong Yu hadn’t been in this era long, he knew that seventy thousand star coins wasn’t an amount everyone could earn.

Zhang Xin: “For those who need it, no price is too expensive. Besides, it’s just seventy thousand star coins. Most families have hundreds of thousands in savings.”

Tong Yu disagreed: “This is just a game. It’s not a luxury item. I hope it’s something everyone can afford if they want to play it.”

Zhang Xin: “But the effect it brings far exceeds that value. Do you know how much it costs to treat a mental disorder for an awakened person at the hospital? Our pricing is absolutely conscientious.”

Tong Yu shook his head: “I don’t agree with this plan. If you insist, I’ll have to approach other game companies.”

Several game companies had been contacting him in the background these past few days, but he had been busy dealing with the original owner and Sheng Jing’s affairs and hadn’t had time to pay attention to them.

Zhang Xin immediately panicked when he heard Tong Yu say this: “Don’t! Let’s talk this through properly. This is just our company’s suggestion. If you don’t agree, you can also tell us your thoughts. This game is yours, and we’ll ultimately prioritize your ideas.”

Tong Yu said: “I won’t stop the live broadcasts. The ten thousand star coin ticket price won’t increase; in fact, it should be lowered.”

If the live broadcast didn’t have much of a healing effect on viewers, then Tong Yu wouldn’t care whether to broadcast it or not, as he also agreed that escape room games were more fun when mysterious. But once he knew that the live broadcast had a healing effect on the spiritual sea, he couldn’t turn it off. That would make him feel like one of those drug dealers who hoarded medicine during an epidemic. He liked money, but not that way.

Zhang Xin frowned. “Lower the price even more?”

Tong Yu: “Exactly. Ten thousand star coins is the current price. After a while, when the hype for the Ghost Bride dungeon dies down a bit, I’ll lower the price to 5,000 or even less.”

Zhang Xin: “But then how much can the company still earn?”

A company is a profit-driven organization; its focus is on revenue. No matter how good Tong Yu’s game is, if it can’t make money, then there’s no point in buying it.

Tong Yu thought for a moment and said, “How about this? We make two versions of each game dungeon: an online version for live streaming, and an offline version with some modifications while keeping the main plot intact. That way, even players who have watched the live stream won’t fully know the walkthrough for the offline game. And people who can’t play the game can still watch the live stream for free to heal their spiritual sea.”

Zhang Xin’s eyes lit up upon hearing this. “That’s a great idea! This way, live streaming won’t just avoid hurting offline business, it’ll even drive a lot of traffic. It’s just that ten thousand star coins is still a bit low.”

Tong Yu disagreed. “Manager Zhang, how many times do you think the number of people willing to spend ten thousand star coins on a game on Shui Lan Star will be compared to those willing to spend seventy thousand?”

Zhang Xin was stunned, then suddenly became urgent. “Wait, I’m going back to the company for a meeting right now. Wait for me, please wait for me! Don’t contact other companies!”

After repeatedly confirming that Tong Yu would wait for him, Zhang Xin immediately took off his helmet and logged off.

—-

At Lan Hai Gaming Company Headquarters

Zhang Xin burst out of his office and headed straight for the chairman’s office.

“Uncle!”

Tang Wendong, the chairman of Lan Hai Game Group, impatiently looked up. “How many times have I told you, call me Chairman at the company.”

“Chairman, I have an urgent matter to discuss with you.”

“The escape room game?” As the chairman of a gaming company, Tang Wendong kept himself informed about currently popular games. “Didn’t we already approve it? What’s the problem now?”

“The other party doesn’t agree with our proposal and insists on live streaming.” Zhang Xin then repeated everything Tong Yu had said to Tang Wendong.

Tang Wendong was initially displeased when he heard the other party insisted on live streaming, but as he listened, his attitude softened, especially at Tong Yu’s remark: “This is just a game, it’s not a luxury item. I hope it’s something everyone can afford if they want to play it.”

Once upon a time, this was also his original intention for making games, but as the company grew larger and capital accumulated, he lost his original purpose. There were even many games his company developed that he had never played himself.

“I know that pricing it at ten thousand star coins will result in high initial costs for the company, but in the long run, the company won’t lose money. Moreover, this game isn’t just a game; it’s also a form of charity,” Zhang Xin said. “Tong Yu insists on live streaming to give everyone a chance to heal their spiritual sea for free.”

Awakened individuals often have stable jobs and decent incomes when they are young, but after retirement, most are plagued by injuries and illnesses. Although the country has medical insurance, it only covers expenses when hospitalization is required. And to meet the hospitalization standard, their bodies would already be at their limit. Such a group of people cannot afford to spend large amounts of money to consume energy values through games.

Tang Wendong’s voice held admiration: “This Mr. Tong is a person of great compassion.”

[Tong Yu: No, no, no, I really didn’t think that far ahead.]

Seeing that his uncle approved of Tong Yu, Zhang Xin seized the opportunity: “Chairman, do you think this great compassion is worth an S-class investment?”

Tang Wendong hesitated, then said, “The company can continue with the S-class investment, but with one condition: Tong Yu must release a second dungeon within three months, and its effect cannot be weaker than the first. Otherwise, the investment will be discontinued.”

He could take a risk for the game’s original intent and that great compassion, but business is business after all.

Zhang Xin was a bit hesitant: “A second dungeon in three months, isn’t that too demanding?”

A novel and unique dungeon like Ghost Bride, with its exquisite ancient Earth-style secret rooms—how could that be made in just a few months?

Tang Wendong shook his head: “If the other party needs help, our company can fully cooperate, but the three-month deadline cannot change.”

Zhang Xin: “Okay, I’ll go talk to Tong Yu.”

With that, Zhang Xin rushed back to his office, put on his helmet, and logged back in.

When Zhang Xin logged in, Tong Yu was online shopping for ingredients to make milk tea. While drinking water earlier, he suddenly realized something: since this was a virtual world, he wouldn’t gain weight no matter what he ate, so why was he still drinking plain water?

As Tong Yu was trying to think of a substitute for pearls, which he couldn’t find, a white flash appeared, and a person materialized before him.

“Holy cow, why are you logging in here?” Tong Yu was stunned.

“You didn’t set any restrictions here, so I just casually bound this as a login point. Wait, never mind that for now, I just went directly to our chairman…” Zhang Xin immediately relayed his uncle’s demands.

Tong Yu listened calmly: “A second dungeon within three months?”

Zhang Xin: “I know this request is a bit difficult, but I’ll send an entire team to help…”

Tong Yu: “Not difficult at all. A week is enough.”

“Huh???” Zhang Xin was dumbfounded.