Julian Reed sat in the quiet of his studio, staring at the scrolling data on his terminal. He had watched the fans in Guinaifen's chat whispering about "climbing the wall," but the reality of the situation hadn't truly hit him until he looked at the price tags.
In the Xianzhou Luofu, the network was relatively open, but the IPC sectors were a different story. To bypass a planetary-grade firewall and relay signal data from a distant sector required high-level servers and tech usually reserved for the Genius Society.
The cost was staggering. The cheapest "wall-climbing" service Julian found cost 5,000 Credits per hour.
"My old salary was 50,000 a month," Julian calculated, a grimace forming on his face. "Ten hours of gaming would wipe out a month's wages. No wonder they call it a rich man's hobby."
He stood up, his mind racing. He had seen this before. On Earth, when a game was blocked or lagged, you didn't need to bypass the entire internet—you just needed an accelerator.
A frantic knock at the door interrupted his thoughts. A junior liaison from the animation team rushed in, looking pale.
"Boss! Bad news! Star Peace TV just sent a priority dispatch. They claim the Interastral Animation Channel is undergoing 'emergency technical adjustments.' They're suspending our broadcast immediately."
Julian didn't look surprised. "And let me guess, they're being 'generous' about it?"
"Yes! They offered tenfold compensation for the breach of contract. Since we invested fifty million, they're offering five hundred million Credits to settle the matter and keep the channel dark."
Julian let out a cold, sharp laugh. The IPC was trying to buy him off. Five hundred million was a fortune to a commoner, but in a world where Pokémon was already a galactic obsession, it was pocket change.
"Tell them we trust the IPC's legendary technical prowess," Julian said, his eyes narrow. "Tell them we'll wait. Keep our contract active. When their 'adjustments' are finished, we expect our time slot back. Let's see who loses more: me, or a TV station with a dead channel."
The liaison blinked, stunned. "You... you're turning down half a billion Credits?"
"I'm buying time," Julian replied. "Cai Xing, take me to see Madam Yukong. I have a proposal that's going to make the IPC's firewall look like a screen door."
Sky-Faring Commission: Private Reception Room
Yukong looked up as Julian entered. She already knew about the blackout. The IPC was playing a traditional game of information suppression, and the Xianzhou was struggling to find a diplomatic counter.
"I have an idea for the signal blockade, Madam," Julian began, getting straight to the point. "Right now, bypassing the firewall is too expensive because the software tries to relay everything. But players don't need the whole web. They just need the Pokémon game data."
He explained the concept of a Game Accelerator—a dedicated, narrow-band VPN that would only tunnel the specific packets required for Arceus Studio's servers.
"Because the data footprint is small, we can offer it at a fraction of the cost. Once they're in our ecosystem, they're effectively outside the IPC's cultural control."
Yukong's eyes sharpened. As a Foxian, she had a natural instinct for trade, but the Xianzhou had never considered such a surgical strike on the IPC's digital infrastructure.
"A Trojan Horse for their network," Yukong mused. "Julian, you have a mind for strategy that is wasted in an archive. Join the Sky-Faring Commission. I can make you an Envoy today."
Julian chuckled, shaking his head. "I appreciate it, Madam, but I'm a creator. I just want people to play my game."
Yukong sighed with genuine regret but didn't push. "Very well. We will begin the technical deployment of the 'Arceus Accelerator' immediately. But what about the animation? The IPC has effectively silenced the show in their territory."
"The show isn't silenced," Julian replied, a mischievous glint in his eyes. "They just blocked the front door. I'm about to show them that on the Path of Elation, there are no such things as walls."