What It's Like Being a Vampire

Thankfully, the ingredients that Tang Baona and Yang Zhen’er bought were quite expensive, ensuring a decent taste and texture. As long as Xiang Kun didn’t screw it up too badly, the meal wouldn’t taste awful.

The people who came over for dinner that night were all captivated by Xiang Kun’s game. Even while they were eating, they discussed the game.

Not only those who had played the game before dinner, but also a few others who arrived later, watched for a while and listened to the “story” with great interest, and couldn’t wait to join the game after dinner.

While eating her meal, Zhang Qian asked Xiang Kun some questions about the game.

Honestly, she was a bit taken aback when she got the invitation yesterday, knowing that she would be coming over to Tang Baona’s place today to test play the game that Xiang Kun created.

She didn’t expect the game Xiang Kun spoke of earlier to be made so quickly. Even considering that Xiang Kun might have found a team to help him, the development speed seemed fast—even if they worked non-stop during the Chinese New Year period, it was just over half a month since Xiang Kun announced his plans to create a game in Tongshi Town.

Unless the game was nearly complete at that time, which did not seem likely from what he had said then.

So, before coming over today, Zhang Qian estimated that the game Xiang Kun had made in such a short time was most likely a relatively simple or even rudimentary “mini-game”.

However, it is the era of mobile internet, and many “mini-games” that run on mobile platforms can be very popular and profitable. Zhang Qian didn’t doubt Xiang Kun’s capabilities. Even if it was just a “mini-game”, the one Xiang Kun created would surely have unique features that stand out.

She had great confidence in Xiang Kun’s abilities.

But no matter what, she never expected Xiang Kun to have created a game in this pure audio format.

When she first came, and heard Yang Zhen’er explaining how to play, the thought that popped into Zhang Qian’s head was—Isn’t this just a role-playing game (RPG) hosted by an AI voice? This type of game is better suited for small circles and offline face-to-face plays. It would be challenging to implement online, right?

But after playing for a few hours, Zhang Qian realized that this game is very different from RPG’s and other role-playing games in terms of experience.

It didn’t require players to have detailed character cards, didn’t require defining all the attributes in advance, and didn’t require understanding every specific and intricate rule beforehand. At the start, players just need to define the character’s name and some basic characteristics. Everything else will be arranged by the game, and players can understand as they progress.

In this game, the need for traditional game features is tremendously reduced. Players don’t need to think or operate too much, as they’re like listeners to a story in which they are also participating. As time progresses, the immersive feeling becomes stronger. The real-time sound effects and background music can stir up the player’s emotions and either make them happy or sad, cry or laugh, as the plot advances.

When playing other games, no matter how outstanding the game’s story and plot are, players rarely lose the feeling of “playing” a game, because the “game” attribute is too strong.

But in Xiang Kun’s game, the storytelling voice fits so well with the content. As you listen, you can’t help but immerse yourself in the plot, the story, and unwittingly begin to seriously “role play” your character.

In different stories, different types of characters speak differently. It’s generally hard for ordinary people to comfortably express themselves using a voice other than their normal one.

Even Zhang Qian initially had some difficulty letting loose. In the martial arts background story, her speech was still in the style of modern urban life. But as the story progressed and her involvement increased, she unconsciously began to participate in the game using language suitable for martial arts, saying things like “Brother”, “Long-awaited”, “Hold on”, “This seat”, “Presumptuous”, and “Die for me!”…

This kind of in-depth role-playing, in which the players communicate with others and get involved in the plot, brings a thrill as if they’re living another life. It gives them a strong sense of participation in the events of the story.

More importantly, Zhang Qian discovered that this mode does not require players to know each other in advance. They don’t need to integrate into a small group first. They don’t need to see each other face-to-face—it’s even better if they can’t see each other, it’s easier for players to immerse themselves, without mutual influence.

This very low entry threshold is indeed suitable for making network games, making it easy for single players to join.

After the game, Zhang Qian was astounded upon reflection by the impressive technology the game exhibited.

Voice recognition technology and the conversion to text are not rare, many big companies have mature technology in this area. But the accuracy of Xiang Kun’s game in voice recognition and judgement after recognition was mind-blowing.

This voice engine, was likewise, the most human-like and fluent she had ever heard. The emotional expression was just right, without many uncomfortable abrupt parts.

Even the story that changes and forms according to all the players’ choices, was very smooth with all logic chains complete and clear. It even sets up foreshadowing according to the players’ earlier conversations, and “reverses” in the later stage to bring a “surprise”.

This made her wonder at one point during the game whether there were real people behind the scenes arranging the plot and narrating….

After dinner, she connected via video call with You Meng and Liu Caifu in Tongshi Town, and Zi Cheng, who had been waiting for a while. She explained the situation of the game to them and began to guide them remotely on installing the game client and explaining how to play.

After using two hours and experiencing a cyberpunk-style story with a dozen people, everyone stopped with regret, turned on the video and started discussing it.

You Meng and Liu Caifu simply went along with how much everyone decided to invest, without voicing any other opinions. They had already made up their minds, and their investment was more about showing support for Xiang Kun than about the product or company itself. They were more interested in being part of the excitement than the actual amount of money they were putting in.

Zi Cheng was equally enthralled. As a “computer expert” with the same college major as Xiang Kun, he was keenly aware of the innovative technology this game was showcasing. He even wondered if Xiang Kun had created it on his own or partnered with a tech giant. If the latter were the case, would there be any investment opportunities left for them?

Zhang Qian was the one who had the most questions, mainly because she was taking this matter to heart. According to the share agreed upon in Tongshi Town, she would be the largest investor.

“Xiang Kun, have you thought about how to monetise the game—by selling prepaid cards or virtual items?” asked Zhang Qian.

Xiang Kun chuckled, “That question should be for our Operations Director, Tang Baona.”

An uproar of applause burst out from Tang Baoting, Gao Yao, Yang Zhen’er, and others, “Let’s hear it from Director Tang!”

Tang Baona shot Xiang Kun a glance and then nervously adjusted her glasses. “I’m not some director, and I don’t know much about operations. But we did have some discussions about this over the past few days. Still, our idea is to make it entirely free initially. Then after we gain a stable player base, we would charge a fixed fee per gaming story. This fee doesn’t have to be high—it’s more about giving players a subtle nudge to take each game seriously since they’ve paid for it. The primary revenue would come from personalization features like voice modulation, choice of narration styles, background music, sound effects, or even a compilation of the gaming audio into a storyline for the players to relive. We can charge for all of these.”

Yang Zhen’er then took a look at her laptop and said, “Hey, the game we just played has finished processing. Let’s check it out.” She connected her laptop to a Bluetooth speaker and played the game they had just played.

She had recorded the game on her end, so it started from her perspective. Hearing their own voices role-playing the characters in the game from the speaker was quite embarrassing for everyone.

However, as they listened, they realized that this was different from when they were playing the game. All the background noise during recording was completely removed, the voices were adjusted and perfectly synchronized with the in-game background music as if they were all recorded in the same studio. It felt so harmonious.

More importantly, all the blank spaces in the game where the players had to make choices or predetermine actions had been cut out, making the storyline flow far smoother, like a radio drama or narrated novel.

Yang Zhen’er added, “When the game is released, we can even hold competitions for player creations, select the best and most narratively rich works for rewards, or even buy the copyrights to adapt them into films and dramas. This would serve as both game promotion and an incentive for players to seriously ‘role-play’ and immerse themselves in the game.”

Zhang Qian nodded. This could indeed significantly enhance player engagement. The innovation was genuinely impressive. She could see herself wanting to save and replay the audio if she were playing the game.

“What if people just want to mess around and refuse to take the role-play seriously, disrupting the game with nonsense? Especially when the game pairs you with random players, it’s quite likely to run into trolls,” Yang Zhuo raised his hand and asked.

Xiao Min nodded adamantly on the side. Just the previous night they had a match on King’s Glory with teammates who were a complete disaster.

“Old Yang, why don’t you answer that?” Xiang Kun turned to Yang Zhen’er.

“Call me Director Yang!” flaring a fist at him, Yang Zhen’er answered, “There will be a real-time reporting system when the game is released. The system will automatically replace disruptive players. Players will have lots of control options. For instance, players who are tired can let the system take over their character, or the narrator can decide the fate of the character— whether they die or leave the story in another way. If a player needs to step away for a moment or just wants to eavesdrop, they can choose to hang their character up for a while. According to Brother Xiang, after playing for a certain period, the system can even mimic the player’s voice and play along with the storyline when the player does not wish to participate, completing the game.”

“I think this could make for a social experience! People could build impressions of each other based on their voices in the game, offering a different experience from standard text communication!” Chang Bin exclaimed excitedly.

“Isn’t that basically YY (a voice chat software)?” countered Wang Han.

“No, it’s different. On YY or any other voice chat software, introverted people or ones who aren’t confident about their voice tend to just listen and rarely participate. But in this game, everyone is naturally drawn into it. Communication through voice is given a platform and a central focus with varying storylines and gameplay each time. Even introverted people can express themselves through this form of ‘role-playing’” Chang Bin reflected.

Because Xiang Kun had been discussing his specific plans for the game with Tang Baona and Yang Zhen’er for some time now, they were the ones explaining to Zhang Qian and Zi Cheng, whilst Xiang Kun gradually bowed out of the discussion, only chiming in for technical queries.

Thinking of Old Xia, Xiang Kun messaged her. He had sensed through the coin he gave her that she was still at the airport in their city, even though, according to her flight schedule, she should have arrived in Citong City.

Xiang Kun was worried. Had Old Xia fallen asleep at the airport? Last night, after drinking his blood, she had stayed up all night and must be exhausted; falling asleep in the waiting area would be perfectly normal.

As Xiang Kun was pondering whether to send a reminder to Old Xia through the dream induced by the chopsticks he had given her, he received a reply:

“Delayed.”

Relieved, Xiang Kun figured out that her plane got delayed.

Xiang Kun: “I thought you had fallen asleep and missed your flight. You should have had a good night’s sleep and then taken the flight the next day.”

Shortly after, Old Xia sent a reply: an emoticon of a panda with laser shooting out from its eyes.

That was her way of telling Xiang Kun that she was still fully alert.