Preparing for Takeoff

Increase the budget?

Gu Sheng froze.

In all his years making games, what he heard most was that the budget was too high and costs needed to be controlled.

But he'd never seen a boss voluntarily propose increasing the budget before!

Logically, this was a good thing—willingness to add funds meant the boss trusted his abilities.

But...

Glancing at his own design document, Gu Sheng felt a bit troubled—

Where was he even supposed to start increasing the budget?

After all, the only expense this "Mario Bros." game required was the license fee for the Flash development platform!

"As for character modeling, UI design, I did all of it... myself."

Gu Sheng's voice wavered with guilt.

As he spoke, he stole a glance at Shen Miaomiao.

After all, describing the game development process like that did sound a bit too slapdash.

Sure enough!

Shen Miaomiao frowned after hearing Gu Sheng's words: "You drew all of it yourself?"

"Uh, yeah." Gu Sheng grinned and nodded.

"Didn't spend a single cent?" Shen Miaomiao pressed.

"Uh, mm." Gu Sheng kept nodding.

Hearing this, Shen Miaomiao slapped the sofa cushion—bang—startling Gu Sheng:

"How can that be!"

With that, she stood up, righteous and indignant:

"Our Golden Wind Game Company! Is a legitimate and professional game company!"

"And you! Director Gu! Are the soul of our company! The commander! The upper echelon!"

"How can you handle everything yourself? Can you even handle all that effort and strain?!"

Huh...?

Shen Miaomiao's impassioned speech left Gu Sheng dazed:

"...But I finished drawing it in ten minutes."

"That's still not okay!"

Damn it, if you do it all, how am I supposed to increase the budget!

If I don't increase the budget, how am I supposed to lose money!

If I don't lose money, how am I supposed to earn cash while lying down!

"Outsourcing! It has to be outsourced!"

Shen Miaomiao waved her little hand:

"I looked it up yesterday—making a game requires a ton of people and funding. Things like art, level design, programming—they cost hundreds of thousands or even millions!"

"You just handle the arrangements! Don't worry about the money!"

"Our game-making motto is—Don't aim for the best! Aim for the most expensive!"

Gu Sheng: ...

But I'm just trying to make a Mario Bros. game here!

A Flash game!

My art skills are already more than enough!

Why do I need to find an outsourcing team!

Are we burning money for fun?!

"Boss, look," Gu Sheng really couldn't bear to trick a fool into spending money, "The soul of this game actually lies in its abstract, rough art style. If we outsource to a professional art team, they might not even be able to replicate this effect."

Give it up, Little Nezha! Even if you're rich, you can't just throw money away like this!

But who would've guessed—Little Nezha seemed dead set on squandering the family fortune, waving a hand dismissively:

"Ah—Director Gu, you're wrong there!"

"Shift your thinking—can't we just have the outsourced art team copy your template one-to-one?"

One sentence! Left Gu Sheng completely speechless.

Do you even know what you're saying?

Gu Sheng felt like his CPU was about to overheat:

"Then... what's the point?"

As if she'd anticipated this question, Shen Miaomiao smiled unhurriedly, unfazed.

She wrapped an arm around the utterly bewildered Gu Sheng and patted his shoulder:

"You just don't get it, do you? Ever heard of brand effect?"

"Pray, enlighten me?" Gu Sheng bent slightly to look at Shen Miaomiao.

Little Nezha was a head shorter than him, so to accommodate his boss's posturing, Gu Sheng had to stoop a little.

"We're a newly established company with little reputation,"

Shen Miaomiao raised an eyebrow at Gu Sheng, coaxing him step by step:

"So, to make a name for ourselves, we need to latch onto the fame of those well-known industry figures. That's the only way to get our first shot off with a bang!"

"Wow—"

Gu Sheng let out a theatrical exclamation, his attitude noncommittal.

Clearly, he still thought Little Nezha's approach was a total sucker's move.

But since the boss had said so, he couldn't argue anymore.

It wasn't his money anyway, so might as well burn it.

"Alright then,"

Gu Sheng sighed inwardly and shrugged:

"So I'll just go ahead and waste money... I mean, increase the cost investment?"

"Invest! Go all out!"

Shen Miaomiao beamed, looking like she was saying 'I believe in you':

"Just focus on 'making a good game'! Don't worry about saving me money!"

That afternoon, Gu Sheng took Little Nezha's sucker philosophy as his guiding principle.

While keeping the original visuals and gameplay intact, he went out of his way to add unnecessary steps.

In this parallel world, there was a site called "Game Factory."

It was a hub for game development professionals, covering everything from creative planning and art design to UI production, modeling, rendering, and engine provision.

Gu Sheng logged into the site and immediately used the 'sort by price from high to low' method, contacting top-tier professionals in art, UI, and programming, asking them to subcontract and produce this seemingly cheap and abstract game.

But you have to understand—those skilled professionals didn't take just any job.

Especially for a simple, crude little game like "Mario Bros."

Many big-name pros took one look and refused, saying making something like that was too degrading, no matter how much money was offered.

So Gu Sheng had to keep lowering his standards.

Finally!

After an entire afternoon of searching and negotiating!

Gu Sheng barely managed to produce this 'gold-plated' Mario Bros. at a total cost of ten thousand yuan, set to launch tonight.

Wasting money took skill too, and he'd really given it his all.

When Gu Sheng reported back, Shen Miaomiao, though still not very satisfied, could only nod and reluctantly accept it.

Ten thousand, fine.

Even ten times that was a hundred thousand, still way better than two hundred.

Time to take off!

Shen Miaomiao gloated inwardly.

She really had an eye for talent (no typo), binding herself to such a big brain like Gu Sheng.

Now she just needed to think about how to comfort Director Gu.

After all, if he woke up tomorrow morning and saw a big fat zero, he'd definitely feel terrible.

"Hmm... how should I comfort my sleeping dragon here? Such a headache, ohohoho..."

8 PM!

Shark Live's gaming section!

"Thanks to 'This Monkey Not for Sale' for the big rocket, thanks..."

"Thanks to 'biabiabia' for the 99 membership cards, thanks boss..."

Just wrapping up today's game promotion segment, A Yin cracked his neck and thanked the gift-giving bosses with a round of appreciation:

"If anyone's interested, click the icon in the bottom left corner to jump into the game—legendary dragon-slaying blade, free with a click, I'll be waiting for you in Sand City."

A wave of supportive comments scrolled through the livestream room—

'So fun, already dropped a hundred grand'

'Epic, sold my house to top up'

'Personally tested, works on sensitive skin too'

'Wrong grave, buddy (dog face)'

'Ridiculous hahahaha...'

'Just got out of the shower, the ad segment's over?'

'Woo! Idiot Game Review's coming!'

'Boss, switch the disc!'

'The real show begins...'

As a top streamer in the gaming section, A Yin had a massive fanbase.

Regular viewers of A Yin's livestream knew that every night at eight was the most hilarious moment in the room.

Because during this slot, A Yin would randomly pick the most idiotic-looking games on the platform and play through them for a review.

Each game got twenty minutes of testing, with the audience deciding whether to "keep it" or "boot it out."

Seeing the flood of cheers and small gifts across the screen, A Yin nodded:

"Alright! Let's see how many lucky ones get booted out today!"

With that!

A Yin opened the Yiyou Platform—an indie game publishing site, touted as a small domestic valve.

After a few selections!

A Yin locked his target onto the tags "small-scale," "single-player," and "price 1-10 yuan."

First up!

A freshly released game caught his eye—

"Mario Bros."