First,

Xu Meng thought Game Observer had published a new article.

However, after clicking on the link, he saw that was not the case; the contributor of the previous article had simply posted a dynamic update.

The content of the dynamic was indeed just as Xiao Ningxi said, kneeling down cleanly and neatly—

[Prediction a massive failure!][I was wrong! I'm sorry! @Dream Building Game awesome! @Frost Snow Project awesome!][Tomorrow "Frost Snow Project" updates, Fire Knife livestreams to apologize.]—Taking another look at the comment section, Game Observer's official account had also reposted this dynamic from Fire Knife, admitting the previous prediction was mistaken.

Not only did they retract their previous statements and express apologies, but they also conveyed their admiration for the courage, decisiveness, and execution of Dream Builder's boss.

Xu Meng shook his head, feeling no particular joy of sweet revenge.

If he hadn't taken over Dream Building, this company would indeed have gone bankrupt, and Game Observer's prediction had no issues.

The basis of their prediction was also the revenue dilemma of "Frost Snow Project" and Dream Building's financial predicament.

There was no personal enmity here, nor any malicious curses.

At most, Game Observer had covertly poked around to inquire about the company's situation, which annoyed him slightly, but it hardly amounted to a deep grudge.

As for Fire Knife's apology livestream...

There was even less reason to pay attention.

Streamers and up-owners who had already announced they would livestream "Frost Snow Project" tomorrow were everywhere; they didn't lack Fire Knife, this fossil that had been obsolete for over a decade.

He replied with a "Got it" to Xiao Ningxi, then tossed his phone aside and went to sleep.

The last night of May thus passed.—June 1st.

The day that would decide the fate of Dream Building finally arrived.

The "Frost Snow Project" client began automatic updates at eight in the morning, while Dream Building's employees started praying early on.

Some were praying to Yongzheng, who specialized in curing Eight Ahs (BUGS), some were praying to Zhou Wenwang, who hand-wrote the sixty-four-bit YiJingOS operating system, and others were praying to the fathers of computing, John von Neumann and Alan Turing.

In short, they prayed to anyone they could think of.

You couldn't blame them for messing around with this metaphysical stuff; they truly had no confidence in their hearts.

—The schedule was too tight, and the testing time was far too short.

Dream Building's tense financial situation did not allow them to continue testing at a leisurely pace. At this point, aside from dabbling in metaphysics and seeking a shred of psychological comfort, there was simply no other way.

Xu Meng was different.

He didn't mess with such metaphysics.

He directly hired a stunt performance team over.

The employees watched as a group of strangers carrying cameras walked into the office, rearranged desks, swapped in old computers, shut off the fire alarms, and laid down a layer of strangely textured "carpet."

The boss chatted with the lead person.

After chatting for a while, he successively received a bottle and a box of matches from that person, as if practicing how to ignite things and splash water on people.

Waiting a bit longer, a few firefighters also walked in carrying fire extinguishers.

Then the boss walked over, asking everyone to cooperate and sit a little further away.

Puzzled, everyone complied.

Ten minutes later, everyone saw a man wearing a bloated plaid shirt emerge from the crowd, sitting in front of the old computer to start typing on the keyboard.

Before he could type much, the boss Xu Meng also entered the frame, splashing the bottle of unknown liquid in his hands onto the man's clothes.

Then he tossed the bottle aside, pulled out a match, struck it, and dashingly threw it onto the man.

The next second, blazing flames roared into the air!

The office employees were so frightened they backed up repeatedly, crying out in shock.

The man engulfed in flames instantly stood up, screaming "Ah, ah, ah" at the top of his lungs while sprinting for his life along the laid-out "carpet."

Everyone along the way panicked and made way.

Finally, under the terrified gazes of all the employees, he screamed, leaped out of the office, and rolled away down the corridor.

"1120! Quickly call 120!"

Everyone was terrified to the core, to the point where their legs went soft and they couldn't even speak properly.

But in reality, the very next second after the stuntman disappeared from the frame, the team members guarding outside the door rushed up, each holding a fire extinguisher and spraying him wildly.

The terrifying-looking fire was completely extinguished within seconds.

Aside from the wig on his head, the stuntman was completely unharmed.

—Not only were the stuntman's skin and clothes coated with fire gel, but underneath the plaid shirt, there was a rain-resistant fire suit and a cotton-padded jacket, and deeper still was flame-retardant underwear. All of these three layers inside and out were soaked with a large amount of flame retardant, pushing protective measures to the absolute limit.

Of course, despite this, it remained a highly dangerous job, and the filming duration was often very short.

Just like this time, from the moment the stuntman was ignited to the fire being put out, it was less than 10 seconds in total.

Xu Meng watched the whole process and had his horizons broadened.

This performance team was extremely professional, quickly coming over to show Xu Meng the video effect, practically carrying the attitude that if Xu Meng didn't nod, they would burn another guy on the spot.

Xu Meng took a look, didn't find any obvious flaws, and quickly nodded.

Only then did the stuntman start peeling off his clothes piece by piece.

This kind of "self-immolation performance" was extremely dangerous and expensive even within stunt performances.

—At least much more expensive than hiring low-level minor models previously.

Still, Xu Meng gave the stuntman an extra red envelope.

He roughly knew: the expensive quote was for the entire team, but in reality, the actor himself who performed the dangerous act wouldn't receive too much of that reward.

The stunt team packed up the scene and quickly departed.

The firefighters, who had supervised the scene after filing the report, also left accordingly.

Only Dream Building's employees were left with dumbfounded expressions, utterly unable to understand what had just happened.

Or rather, they roughly knew what had happened, but completely failed to understand why it had to be done.

Xu Meng offered no explanation, simply letting everyone get back to whatever they were doing.

Everyone was already feeling unsettled because of the update of "Frost Snow Project," and this only made them more prone to wild imaginations, leaving them with no choice but to wait while chatting and speculating in small group chats.

This atmosphere persisted through the entire morning, until the update and maintenance of "Frost Snow Project" concluded.—Orange Juice, the P Station up-owner who had been ganked by the "Frost Snow Project" promotional video yesterday, was someone who bore no grudges and started streaming early today, intending to take another challenge.

Anyway, yesterday was only the first time getting banned, and it was only for 10 minutes, so it wasn't a big deal.

Once the update was complete, the "Frost Snow Project" launcher required a restart.

Juice took it in stride and casually clicked confirm.

The next second, a brand-new launcher popped up.

The UI of the new version was thoroughly overhauled, completely different from the old version.

The login UI of the old version had been quite conventional, built upon a static image background with automatically rotating news banner images, and a few text links underneath the banners.

As for the new UI, the entire background had turned dynamic! A fierce wind swept past, He Yin's skirt fluttered, and the gold chains and jewelry on Tong Que danced across her skin, setting off He Yin's snowy white thighs and Tong Que's towering chest in mutual radiance, leaping right before the eyes! As the camera panned, behind them, Xiao Ningxi held flowers and tugged Bu Erxi out as they jumped into view.

Bu Erxi staggered in a moment of surprise, her chest—already struggling to fit inside the front armor of her bunny girl outfit—heaving violently, almost making one worry it might spill right out...

The visual impact was so intense that Orange Juice involuntarily leaned her upper body back.

Yet the next second, she leaned forward again to observe the details.

The entire launcher was filled with dynamic visuals, leaving only a yellow login button in the bottom right corner.

Three seconds later, an active event image—half the size of the old UI—finally popped up on the left side.

There was even a [Hide UI] option in the bottom left corner.

Orange Juice resolutely hid it to continue appreciating the sight.

The viewers in the livestream room also grew excited:

"Awesome!!!"

"I declare this the most awesome game launcher I've ever seen!"

"As expected of Zhu Meng Dairy!"

"Suddenly feeling kind of hungry, what should I do?"

"Speaking of which, how did Dream Builder pull this off? Can launchers even play videos?"

"Must be a GIF effect, right?"

"Putting hundreds of images together to switch in order should do it."

"Bulls**t!" Orange Juice suddenly grew excited. "Just for this silky smooth motion effect, hundreds? If it's under 800 sheets, I'll eat shit!"

Amidst a flurry of "trying to trick us into eating shit" bullet comments, a viewer jumped out and said: "Wanna bet? Under 800 sheets and you eat shit, over 800 sheets and I'll gift you a flagship!"

"Bet!" Orange Juice said without the slightest hesitation, opening her computer's storage drive as she spoke to find the folder containing the launcher's background images.

"Brothers, you might not know this, but I used to be somewhat of an industry insider myself!"