To ascend, I had no choice but to create games

Chapter 210: 146 Did I Do Something Wrong (Three updates)_2

Chapter 210: Chapter 146 Did I Do Something Wrong (Three updates)_2

The random events and animated performances in the new version became even more interesting, elevating the game’s randomness and offering players a different experience with each gameplay.

The gameplay remains as straightforward as before, but the depth is still there, making it a game that requires players to use their brains to get through.

After testing the game with satisfaction, Fang Cheng added a “relaxing” tag to the game’s label, set the price, and it was ready to be released.

The size of “I Am The Director” is not big, and the gameplay is rather relaxing, so the game’s final pricing was set at 48 yuan, classifying it as a mid-lightweight game.

Given the current reputation of Fang Cheng Studio, the game didn’t need much promotion, as the name “Fang Cheng Studio” alone was worth more than 600,000 in sales volume.

Once the game officially launched, Wang Xiaoying did some simple promotions, and the studio’s fans flocked to it.

However, when they saw the game’s labels, they almost immediately came up with the same thought.

Fang Cheng Studio, what’s wrong with you? Have you been kidnapped?

Previous games from Fang Cheng Studio had a strong role-playing element.

Players were either Soldiers or Little Elf Collection Masters. They played a specific role with a specific identity within the game’s world.

But in this game, although the title contained the word “I,” there was no concrete image of “me” in the game; even the presence of the secretary responsible for the new player’s guide was stronger than “me.”

Since it’s not a role-playing game, the technical expertise and character experience previously accumulated by Fang Cheng Studio might not be applicable.

However, this concern disappeared quickly after they purchased the game.

And after playing for a dozen hours, the long-time players developed the same idea:

This time, the label was actually correct!

[When I saw ‘relaxing’ and ‘positive energy’ on the tags, I thought it would be another tough, masochistic game. Surprisingly, after playing it, it turned out to be quite relaxing indeed.]

[Fang Cheng Studio actually got the tags right? That’s the biggest mistake!]

[Fake! It’s all fake!]

[Goodbye, my youth.]

[I strongly suspect Fang Cheng Studio hid an important easter egg in the tags, but I haven’t found it yet. I’m sure Fang Cheng is sneakily watching us.]

[How can it be sneakily! Have you seen my husband’s face on TV? Handsome can’t be called ‘sneakily,’ that’s called charming!]

[Got it.]

He was a die-hard fan of the Living Immortal and upon learning about the intricate connection between the Living Immortal and Fang Cheng, he also became an ardent fan of Fang Cheng Studio.

Previously, he had been striving hard in the game “Plant Grass,” though he was a bit tired of it.

Now, with the release of “I Am The Director,” he could seamlessly transition into this new game, ready to relax.

As a hardcore gamer, Liuzi realized after playing this game for over an hour that it was actually quite hardcore.

The game’s overall span is about 20 years, and after 20 years, the game will automatically end and give a score based on the player’s performance over those two decades.

However, these scores were trivial. The real goal was singular: to see if the player could reach the pinnacle of a TV program directorship.

To elaborate, it was about whether they managed to produce one or more grand soirées.

And those soirées had to be both critically acclaimed and popular.

This standard implied that the programs produced by players must balance entertainment and artistry, and be filled with positive energy to earn appreciation from superiors.

Before that, players needed to accomplish one small goal after another, eventually building enough reputation.

Unfortunately, after a strenuous 5-hour struggle, Liuzi had to admit that he had failed.

In the game settlement screen, his personal secretary listed all the programs he had produced, then encouraged him, “Over the past 20 years, you produced 150 programs, with the highest-rated show reaching an 11% viewership.”

“Although you didn’t manage to produce a grand soirée in the end, you are already a director of local station grand soirées. Your productions were very popular and received rave reviews—a truly colorful directing career.”

This resume looked impressive, but Liuzi still felt a sense of loss.

He had been lucky this time around, having recruited many high-quality staff members at the start, and the outcomes from various random events were also very favorable.

Through these random events, he gained enough fame rather early on, secured ample funding, and won approval from his superiors.

But in the end, he still fell short of becoming the director of a grand soirée.

Leaning back in his chair, he reflected on his previous actions, but he couldn’t figure out what he had done wrong.

He had given his staff generous salaries, kept overtime reasonable, trained his employees whenever he found the opportunity to improve their attributes, and produced better shows.

He never delayed monthly salaries, occasionally gave bonuses, and retaliated against competitors in moderation—he had nearly perfected every aspect.

So, where exactly had he gone wrong?

Or was it that he was wrong from the beginning?

Does this game have another solution?