Losing Money to Become a Tycoon: Starting with Games
Chapter 392: Not One of You Is Leaving—My Treat
After accepting the fact that even writing eight thousand words in one go didn't actually count as "that much," Cui Geng split the revised 8,439 words neatly into four chapters, opened the author dashboard, and uploaded them.
Don't ask why there were a couple hundred extra words. If you must know, he just casually added a few lines to smooth out the flow.
By the time he uploaded the last chapter, Cui Geng felt a tiny surge of emotion.
Before, he always wrote and posted as he went, with at least two hours between chapters.
But now—four chapters in a row. Four times the happiness. It felt like opening floodgates at a dam.
He was so excited he couldn't quite put it into words, so after thinking for a long time, he only added a single interjection at the end of the chapter:
"Ma yeah!!!"
When he saw the words "Published Successfully," a huge weight lifted off his shoulders.
Comfortable!
Satisfied!
Relaxed!
Usually, he skipped updates without the slightest shame, skipping whenever he felt like it. But around this time every evening, he would still feel a bit down.
That kind of feeling like, "Man, the whole day went by and I didn't manage to do anything," leaving him slightly empty and wistful.
But today, that feeling was gone. He wouldn't be thinking, "I didn't get anything done today," because he'd written eight thousand words!
"Dinner's ready!"
"Everyone's free tonight, head back to the hotel if you want, or go out and have fun if you feel like it."
Zhu Anxing wrapped up the day's work and called everyone over to lay out the Moyu Delivery takeout on the conference table.
One by one, white porcelain bowls were opened, steam rising as the aroma of hot dishes filled the air.
The authors sat around the table, eating and chatting.
They'd already had Moyu Delivery for lunch, so Cui Geng had used up all his amazement at how refined and healthy the takeout was earlier in the day.
Along the long conference table, Zhu Anxing handed out each person's order. For some reason, the scene made Cui Geng think of the painting The Last Supper.
As they ate, the authors chatted about nothing more than things like, "How many words did you write today?" "Writing here feels pretty efficient," and "These chairs are nice, my neck didn't hurt today."
Cui Geng didn't really have much to add. What he wanted most was to brag about writing eight thousand words today, but in this setting, that didn't feel like something worth boasting about, if anything, it felt a little embarrassing.
Bored, he pulled out his phone to check the comments on the new chapters.
There was mobile signal here—just no Wi-Fi—so the authors could still go online using data.
Even so, no one would spend the whole day on their phone here.
Everyone was writing. If you were the only one playing on your phone, you'd feel guilty.
And besides, this workshop wasn't mandatory. If you had zero interest in writing, there was no point forcing yourself to stay. You might as well leave early and go home to do whatever you wanted.
It was like a person who hates studying going to a study hall, no matter how much they didn't want to study, the atmosphere would at least help them focus a little, way more than staying in the dorm.
To be fair, even though Cui Geng skipped updates a lot, his writing was pretty good, and he had quite a few loyal readers.
The new chapters had only been out for a few minutes, and comments were already pouring in.
"???"
"What am I seeing—four updates in a row?"
"Wow, I must've eaten too much today. I'm hallucinating!"
"Did this pigeon spirit take the wrong medicine today? Not only did he update four chapters, he didn't even beg for votes!"
"He definitely hired a ghostwriter!"
At this, Cui Geng's heart skipped a beat.
Crap, he was in too much of a hurry when uploading and forgot to ask for votes!
A massive update without asking for votes felt like losing a hundred million for nothing.
He kept scrolling.
"What's with the 'Ma yeah'? I don't remember seeing this kind of interjection at the end of chapters before."
"My guess is this pigeon spirit got kidnapped. The kidnapper held him at gunpoint and forced him to write eight thousand words, then left a code at the end of the chapter!"
"Dear kidnapper bro, these two votes are for you. If you see this, please keep him tied up a few more days. Thanks!"
"I'll add another vote too—keep him tied up two more days!"
"Tentacle Monster, if you're having any trouble in real life, just say the word so we can think of a solution in advance. Otherwise, what are we supposed to do once your problems are solved?"
"Really? Pigeon Spirit, if you've been kidnapped, blink quickly! I'm so grateful to the kidnapper bro!"
Cui Geng was completely speechless.
What do you mean "grateful to the kidnapper bro"?!
Is that really how you see me—like I only update diligently when I've been kidnapped?
Am I that kind of person?
…Huh? I actually kind of am.
Alright then.
Cui Geng thought about it carefully. If this workshop hadn't locked him in a little dark room to focus on writing, there was no way he would've cranked out eight thousand words.
Whatever, no point overthinking it.
The point is, I wrote eight thousand words today. That's badass!
Tonight, I'm gonna have a proper good time!
He viciously swallowed a chunk of braised pork and asked the roommate next to him in a low voice, "Bro, wanna go out and have some fun tonight? I heard there's a chain internet café in Jingzhou called Moyu Internet Café—top-tier PCs, great environment, super satisfying to play at!"
The roommate shook his head. "Nah, Brother Cui. I'm heading back to the hotel tonight to write another chapter on my own laptop, then organize my story outline and get ready for tomorrow."
Cui Geng: "..."
It suddenly felt like being back in college, sharing a dorm with the overachievers.
…
…
January 17th, Monday.
Pei Qian woke up naturally, rolled over, and sat up in bed, rubbing his eyes.
"Ugh, so annoying. Monday again."
"Gotta go to work again."
"Hmm… feels like there was something about Monday I was supposed to remember. Can't recall it."
"Whatever. I'll order takeout first and think while I eat."
Pei Qian pulled out his phone, ordered Moyu Delivery, then checked his unread messages.
Ma Yang: "Brother Qian, ioi has officially started testing in Europe and the US! The data looks really good, go check it out!"
Oh?
Pei Qian immediately perked up.
He hurriedly opened his browser and searched for information related to Fingertip Games and the ioi test.
On Fingertip Games's official website, they introduced the advantages of the game ioi in detail—for example, a professional auto-match battle platform, using players' hidden strength values ("ELO rating") to determine skill level and start fast matches; party matchmaking for squads; and plans to open a ranked ladder system in the future, and so on.
On forums, Pei Qian also found some player feedback. Although a few people complained about bugs in the game, overall the tone was mostly praise.
He didn't read too much. With his CET-4–level English, it wasn't that he couldn't understand anything at all, but it was pretty painful to read.
What he cared more about were the discussions on domestic forums.
After ioi began testing overseas, the news quickly spread back home. Many domestic players were paying close attention to the game and hoping that a Chinese server test and a Chinese client would open soon.
Some players were even too impatient to wait and had already gone to the US servers to try it out.
After reading all this, Pei Qian's mood became a bit complicated.
He wasn't sure anymore whether he should be hoping for ioi to blow up or flop…
But no matter what, things were finally developing according to the "script" he'd imagined!
Earlier, when Pei Qian noticed that ioi still hadn't opened testing in the US and the response was lukewarm, he'd been a little worried the game might just die.
Sure, if ioi flopped, that 20 million investment would go down the drain, but when he looked at his own GOG… things didn't look any more optimistic.
Now the script was back on track: ioi was exploding in popularity in the US. If things kept developing like this, it becoming a global hit was only a matter of time.
Which meant…
He could relax about GOG for the time being!
If Pei Qian had more system funds right now, he definitely would've immediately thrown another pile of money at GOG.
After finishing his takeout, Pei Qian planned to head to the company and casually take a look around to check on GOG's development progress.
Just then, he received another message—from Huang Sibo.
"President Pei, our movie has wrapped filming!"
Pei Qian froze for a moment. That fast?
Well… not really that fast. Thinking about it carefully, it was actually a bit slower than expected. Timing-wise, though, it was about right.
"Wrapped filming" meant the shooting phase of the movie was finished. Even though there would still be editing and post-production to do, generally speaking, once a film wraps, the crew disbands and everyone goes their separate ways.
That's why most productions celebrate right after wrapping, because at that point, everyone is still around.
Hearing this instantly woke Pei Qian up.
Wrapping means celebrating—doesn't that mean going out to eat?
Doesn't that mean having a proper good time in Jingzhou for a few days?
They'd all worked hard and traveled a long way to be here, giving it their all to make this movie. As the local host, shouldn't he treat them properly?
Pei Qian immediately typed back:
"No one from the crew is allowed to leave!"
"My treat!!!"