To ascend, I had no choice but to create games

“Only one out of the ten buildings was left unsold, and that was because the guy was pushed to the brink of death before he finally didn’t sell. Oh, he’s in the gaming industry too, but kind of dumb; he can’t even tell when he’s being scammed. Speaking of which, gaming really burns through cash, but it seems only you, boss, have no problems there. Have you figured out what you want to do yet? If you’re thinking of investing, I’ve got some connections too.”

“Hmm…”

Fang Cheng looked at Xu Qingling for a while and realized that she had the Fortune Fate naturally, as well as other minor fates like Husband Prosperous, luck, and Koi, which meant she was blessed with very good fortune and favored by this world.

In her past life, she must have done many good deeds to receive such favor.

Such a person is usually destined for great achievements in the future. Handing money over to her could contribute more to the world than just letting it sit in an account.

So, he straightforwardly said, “Alright, I will leave the money with you; you can invest it however you like. But I have one condition: invest in the gaming industry.”

Although the gaming often backstabbed him, Fang Cheng knew that his chance for achieving enlightenment was tied to gaming, and this feeling was becoming increasingly certain.

Despite several gaming failures, he still felt that his Taoist Heart was becoming more polished, and his future path was becoming clearer.

Therefore, the more developed the gaming industry, the larger the space he had for future endeavors.

Having learned Fang Cheng’s requirements, Xu Qingling smiled confidently, armed with his authorization, and began gathering information, preparing to invest.

After listing out the promising game-related industries, Xu Qingling soon realized the gaming industry was a mixed bag. Investing in websites was unnecessary, platform investments were too late, domestic gaming consoles were at a disadvantage, and the only noteworthy one turned out to be the VR integration machine of Kirin Industry, located just downstairs.

After reviewing the information, Xu Qingling realized that Gao Tianyun might be more remarkable than she had thought.

With a Ph.D. in Communications Engineering from Tsinghua University, experience studying abroad in North America, and a handful of invention patents, he had a deep passion for the gaming industry.

Originally a heavy industry company, Kirin Industry shifted its focus to gaming after Gao Tianyun took over. The quality of their integrated VR machine within the industry was solid and had great potential.

Unfortunately, they lacked talent in software, and the high cost of porting games limited the application of their VR machine.

After her research, Xu Qingling gathered some internal information and felt good about Kirin Industry.

Then she picked up the phone and called the front desk downstairs.

When they found out it was a call from Fang Cheng Studio upstairs, Gao Tianyun, who was drafting, immediately lunged for the phone and excitedly asked, “Mr. Fang, have you finally come to your senses!”

“No? Just want to invest? Sigh…”

“Two billion, huh? Alright… But are you sure you don’t want to join us, Mr. Fang? Okay, I got it.”

After hanging up the phone, Gao Tianyun felt incredibly disappointed.

Compared to a two billion investment, he had hoped more for Fang Cheng to join his venture and work together.

Next to a soulmate in life, twenty billion was no different from toilet paper.

As Xu Qingling was discussing the investment with Gao Tianyun, Fang Cheng was looking at the reviews of this year’s Spring Festival Gala.

It was a post-gala ritual he did every year. After watching, he would examine the audience’s reactions to understand what they wanted to see and to identify the discrepancies between his own perceptions and those of the audience.

As in previous years, the mainstream media were full of praise, while internet forums were full of criticism.

The polarized responses made Fang Cheng feel like they weren’t watching the same show.

[Every year I think it can’t get worse than this year, but the next year I find out I was wrong.]

[Can’t find the New Year’s spirit anymore.]

[This year I played games with the TV on, only looking up during the final countdown.]

[I was watching a replay, and I felt glad that it was finally better than last year’s, only to find out my mom was playing one from two years ago.]

[Doesn’t feel as fun as the New Year in “The Supreme One,” after all, they are truly celebrating the festival.]

[Awful.]

Having read the players’ comments, Fang Cheng felt inspired.

After observing the players for over a month, Fang Cheng realized that players were a group with great creativity, and they loved to materialize their creative ideas.

Therefore, if given a stage to choreograph their own shows, compile their own program lists, and arrange their own actors, wouldn’t the process be fun?

After some thought, Fang Cheng found it was pretty interesting, akin to directing a Spring Festival Gala.

Having decided on the direction for the film, Fang Cheng started taking action.

His Primordial Spirit left his body, and he directly entered the Mirror Universe, arriving in the Shadow Area.

Here, he meticulously inspected the condition of the Shadows.

These Shadows had devoured a large number of planets and life forms, which caused the Shadows to become an existence much like a collective consciousness of life, and they could even manifest things similar to a Female Evil God from their main body.

Clipping a small piece of the Shadow with the God Sword and holding it in his hand, Fang Cheng discovered that even in a tiny fragment of Shadow, there was a vast amount of information that could be fully materialized with a bit of Mana.

Moreover, the Shadows could react based on stimuli; as long as certain rules were given, they could even comprehend which elements were appealing and respond accordingly.

It was like a large collective of human consciousness, able to provide rational feedback through external interaction.

After fully mastering the traits of the Shadows, Fang Cheng nodded in satisfaction, already knowing what to do.

He decided to create a management simulation game.

Once the direction was set, he integrated the Shadow Primordial Spirit back into place, then started to search for various types of management simulation games, to learn and to construct.

While learning, he also cleared out negative aspects within the Shadow, retaining only the information, and intertwined Immortal Spells within it, transforming the Shadow into the ideal form he envisioned.

He incorporated elements that players liked such as growth, added different levels of life forms, included the aspect of money, online leaderboards, studio elements…

Seven days later, all the rules were planned out, everything in the Shadows was processed, and it was time to package and hand it over to Huang Ping and others for optimization.

Upon hearing of a new game, the three planners immediately fell into happy troubles.

There were too many games to play.

Although the gap since the last game was relatively long, the previous games still had plenty to offer, and the arrival of a new game would inevitably encroach on the already limited game time, putting their sleep hours in jeopardy.

This thought was simply biting the hand that feeds, so Huang Ping just complained briefly before diving into the game.

The name of this game is “I Am The Director,” tagged as a management simulation, program filming, and positivity.

Staring at the title and tags, Huang Ping didn’t know where the problems would arise, but was certain there would be issues somewhere.

However, this had become one of Mr. Fang’s trademarks, and he had learned to embrace the problems, even finding joy in them.

As long as the game was fun, there would be no issue!

Moreover, figuring out the boss’s true intentions and discovering a valid way to play was also a pleasure.

Entering the game with enthusiasm, Huang Ping found that there was no beginner’s guide, as usual, but the content of the game was straightforward and easy to understand.

It was about directing shows.

As a director who has just taken charge of a program team, the protagonist needs to direct shows, provide scripts, boost viewership, and make their program team the best.

Each show required a host, assistant director, screenwriter, cameraman, etc., and they all had their own levels; the higher the level of the talent, the better the output and correspondingly, the higher the salary.

The game also featured so-called legends, each with their special skills to further enhance the program’s impact.

Besides, there were sequels, crossovers, and other special arrangements in the program, which made Huang Ping a bit ecstatic after playing for a while.

Accumulating money bit by bit, multi-threading layout little by little, starting from a small show and ultimately taking on the responsibility of a large evening gala.

The feedback from the game was excellent and unique. Although some areas were still rough, it would become even more interesting with some polishing over time.

Huang Ping played until the end of the workday, exhaling a sigh of lingering enjoyment.

Mr. Fang’s game development skills were getting better and better.