Chapter 8
Probably... just my imagination.
Getting flustered over a game? Impossible.
Shaking off those unrealistic thoughts, I sat on the chair, tapping the table.
...With those two gone, the room suddenly fell silent. Honestly, it felt strangely unfamiliar.
Bored, I checked the world channel. Members of the Wind Mercenary Corps were still boasting.
Might as well go play with them a bit.
Thud—
『System Notice: Dear Violet Supreme Member, you have a letter from the development team. Please check it.』
I casually opened the letter. Text appeared on the semi-transparent screen.
This afternoon, there’s a major meeting about ‘Emperor’. Aotian, it’s time to show your skills.
Let those old fossils in the family see your growth.
—Ouyang Yaoji
“Uh.”
A letter from my sister-in-law? Quite novel.
Whatever. I haven’t reported to the company in ages anyway. Might as well swing by.
Finally, I glanced at my friends list. Alicia was in the Archmage Tower; the Guild Leader was in the Temple.
They probably won’t be back soon, I thought, logging out of the game.
In the eastern district stood a hundred-story ice-blue glass skyscraper—the headquarters of Xuanyuan Group and developer of the hottest game, ‘Emperor’. Next to it was the e-commerce HQ of the Ouyang Family.
Passing the gate guards, I entered a spacious plaza where security patrolled occasionally.
Though I got questioned a few times...
But honestly, it was probably my overly plain clothes clashing with this place.
Luckily, the receptionist recognized me inside the building. Otherwise, it’d have been damn awkward.
I took the elevator to around the 80th floor. The conference hall was already packed.
I sat at the head seat, coolly glancing at the back rows—clan elders and their descendants.
Pretending to visit, they really just wanted a bite of the ‘Emperor’ cake.
“Deputy Director Long, you’re here.”
“Hmm.”
After a simple greeting, I nodded.
“Is anyone else missing?”
I scanned the department heads, asking calmly.
“Everyone’s here.”
My secretary, marking something on a spreadsheet beside me, replied.
“Don’t mind me. Start.”
The department heads flipped open notebooks, ready to take notes.
“‘Emperor’ has been live three months, racking up praise. Naturally, there are bad reviews too. We can’t please everyone, but we must satisfy most.”
Applause erupted.
I just rested my left hand on my cheek, gazing out the window.
I never liked these formalities. Zero interest in listening.
After each department reported, a virtual projection in the table’s center displayed their goal progress.
Just as I was about to doze off, the main act began. The planning team outlined future game updates.
After a thoughtful pause, I cut in once they finished.
“Scheduled for updates every five months?”
“Yes. The game’s data is massive. Too-frequent updates would shorten its lifespan.”
“Too long. It’ll kill player enthusiasm. Hardcore grinders will lose fun. From now on, major updates every three months—level caps, new gear, new maps.”
After two months of gameplay, I knew some players really grind hard.
“Understood.”
Department heads typed notes on their laptops.
“How did the last fairy pet sell?”
It was just a whim from a bet, but it seemed wildly popular.
“All sold out. Full-star ratings across the board.”
“Release a new pet every six months. Limited edition. Exclusive. Remember: pets are toys for whales. Make them ultra-cute, ultra-adorable. Add interactions.”
No one resists cute pets—especially with ‘limited’ and ‘exclusive’ attached.
“Yes.”
“What leisure zones exist in-game?”
Most players grind and level, but some just want fun. Beyond basics, we need extra entertainment.
“Fishing, baseball, camping, horse racing.”
“Not enough. Add lottery, arena, zoo, swimming pool, open-air hot springs.”
“Yes.”
While the heads scribbled notes, I left my seat, pacing around the table.
“Deputy Director Long, base the arena on a ladder system? Rewards by rank.”
“Okay. Solid idea.”
This lets skilled free players prove themselves.
“Should we balance it?”
“No. The arena’s a stage for the strong.”
“Understood.”
As the heads conferred, I stood by the floor-to-ceiling window, overlooking the city.
After a long while, once they wrapped up, I sat back down.
“Add seasonal outfits every three months. Sell via lottery. No stats—purely cosmetic skins.”
“Limited-time sale?”
“Naturally. Exclusive outfits for specific seasons. Sold once only.”
“Got it.”
My secretary jotted notes too, though I’ve never figured out what secretaries actually do.
“One last thing. Add weapon rankings, level rankings, and weapon ratings.”
“Yes. Should accessories and armor get ratings and rankings too?”
“No need. Only weapons matter. Class damage relies on weapons and skills.”
“Understood.”
Sitting, I lightly tapped the table with my fingers. This environment made me inexplicably uneasy.
“Oh—and add a Beauty Ranking and Hero Ranking. You figure out the details.”
After covering everything, I exchanged brief pleasantries with the clan elders, then quietly left. The rest was up to the project team.
In the corridor, Li Yuan—Lulu’s father—chased after me.
“Director Long.”
“What is it?”
I turned. He looked about forty-six, black-rimmed glasses giving him a stern vibe.
“I haven’t apologized for my son Lulu’s incident yet.”
“It’s fine. Just work well. No second time.”
“Understood, understood.”
My stomach growled. Time for the cafeteria. Usually, my sisters-in-law handle meetings like this. No clue why I had to show today.
Inside the cafeteria, I spotted Lao Wang directing staff to clean.
“What a coincidence, running into you here.”
I patted his shoulder. Lao Wang turned.
“Aotian? Really a coincidence. Why are you here?”
He eyed my clothes—totally out of place—and looked surprised.
“Job interview. Guess I walked into the wrong building.”
Xuanyuan Group’s hiring is strict, but Ouyang Group’s easier. This cafeteria’s shared by both.
“Hahaha, I see! Come, eat and chat. You guys take a break—back to work this afternoon.”
Lao Wang, still bossing his team around, slapped my back, steering me toward the food counter.
Mealtime hadn’t started yet, so the cafeteria felt eerily empty.
