Chapter 153: 119: An Old and a Young (Part 1)_1
With the support of President Zhang Ping, a second version of the game was released during the first test phase.
In this version, a new pet system was introduced where players could acquire brand-new pets without spending any money, and these pets played a role within the game.
The pets could be used to combat monsters in the darkness, randomly obtain materials, and even be petted and interacted with, greatly relieving the fatigue of battle and giving players a chance to relax.
This feature led to a temporary recovery in user numbers for “Dark Guardian,” which had been in continuous decline, but soon the numbers began to fall again.
In contrast to the continual data collapse of “Dark Guardian,” the meticulously monitored statistics for “Dark Builder” were on a steady rise.
According to the Qian Du Index, active player participation, and average daily visits to the official website, it was found that the popularity of the two games had completely reversed.
Their data curves crossed each other on the screen, as if mocking the efforts of “Dark Guardian” and marking them with a resounding failure.
Seeing these results, Zhang Ping became confused.
Everything seemed excellent in the surveys, the graphics and music crushed the competition, and the public relations on all fronts were very well managed, with outstanding critiques from both the media and players.
But why were the numbers still dropping?
On B Station, the UP owners, who had been crazily playing “Dark Guardian” during the promotion, stopped as soon as the promotion ended and immediately switched to playing a few rounds of “Dark Builder.”
Are you all NTR enthusiasts?
One streamer even titled their live broadcast: “Darkness is for livelihood, Dark Builder is true love.”
Surviving by day, dwelling by night, is that it?
Armed with data, Zhang Ping sought out KongKong’s opinion, only to find that KongKong was not in a good state.
After not seeing him for two or three days, his hair had turned white at the roots, and he looked deflated like a balloon with no air, as if all his energy had drained away, leaving nothing behind.
He recalled the annual meeting last year when “King’s Dungeon” was testing well, and KongKong was brimming with confidence, holding onto Zhang Ping’s arm while drinking and asserting that his game was definitely going to be a big hit before taking it international to show players around the world what a mature microtransaction system looked like.
But now, KongKong was utterly exhausted.
In the game industry, success was the best tonic.
Back then, KongKong looked like he was just over thirty, but two failures had completely shattered his Taoist Heart, leaving him almost unable to get back up.
Standing by the window, KongKong stared blankly across at Fang Cheng Studio.
It was already 5:30 in the afternoon, and the sky was beginning to darken. Everyone in the opposite building had already left work, except for a pot of chives by the window that was vibrant with life, stretching out with vigor.
In stark contrast to the chives was his own reflection in the mirror.
Aged, decayed.
Standing behind KongKong, Zhang Ping opened his mouth to say something but then felt that everything seemed pointless.
Swallowing his dry throat, he said, “KongKong, how about you take some time off?”
“No need,” KongKong shook his head, “If I rest, the blame might fall on you. Many people in the headquarters already look at Rong City with displeasure; we can’t give them a chance to attack you.”
“KongKong…”
“That’s how big companies are, strong when the wind is favorable, weak when it’s not. Not to mention the infighting and office politics in the company can be enough to cause a headache to death.”
“…”
“I’m fine, let’s leave it at that. I’ll make one last effort to see if I can salvage something. I’m going to talk to the planners.”
KongKong left slowly, but suddenly lost his balance at the door and nearly fell on the carpet.
Zhang Ping instinctively wanted to help, but KongKong steadied himself using the door frame and shook his head, then pushed himself up with his hands.
Watching his desolate figure, Zhang Ping realized something.
KongKong was about to leave too.
Gathering all the planners, KongKong put out some of the game data collected by operations.
He did not reveal the current index comparison but instead compared “Dark Guardian” and “Dark Builder,” and asked, “Everyone, these are the competitors’ games and reviews. What do you all think?”
After reading the material laid out on the table, a planner said nonchalantly, “There shouldn’t be any threat, right?”
“It’s just an indie game with graphics that use a shortcut pixel style, nothing to worry about.”
“Too few features, how could players possibly be interested in the development?”
“The music is no good, it’s just one sound effect, this game won’t cut it.”
“They actually don’t charge money; is the producer a living saint or something?”
This comment made the planners burst into laughter, creating a merry atmosphere in the room.
KongKong laughed as well.
It’s hard to judge a planner’s skills since everyone can write a planning document but few can make it shine.
But KongKong could see that there were few truly outstanding planners here.
Most planners had just muddled through projects, with resumes full of flowery words and grandiose ideas. But over the years, other than being good at flattery, their skills hadn’t improved in the slightest.
However, amid the jovial atmosphere, a planner with two and a half years of experience, frowning while reading the review comments, said, “This doesn’t look good.”