Skyhill

At this moment, Only Game.

Meng Shu sat in his office chair, a data panel surfacing in his mind.

Design: 60+5 (Average) Programming: 60+12 (Average) Art: 60+4 (Average) Music: 60+1 (Average)

Seeing this, Meng Shu nodded to himself inwardly.

Design had gone up by 2 points—it seemed the game modifications had taken effect, granting him another stat increase.

Programming had risen by 4 points, which felt a bit low. After all, he had built the entire game from scratch himself, yet it didn't even net 5 points?

Art had increased by 2 points, which was reasonable, given the visual quality and various scenes far surpassed the original.

Music had actually gone up by 1 point, which caught him off guard.

He had thought this time would be like the previous "21 Points," staying unchanged, since he hadn't put much effort into the music.

This time, he had simply had Infinite Network Entertainment replicate the sound effects and compositions from the concept design, and it added 2 points. Interesting.

That meant for the next game, he might need to put some work into the music.

After reviewing the data panel, Meng Shu shifted his gaze downward to the Fear Points panel.

"Dark Forest": 2.17 million people frightened (70,000 new) "21 Points": 4.2 million people frightened (100,000 new) "Visage": 280,000 people frightened Total Fear Points: 5,198,000

"No way? I haven't even broken even!?"

Meng Shu's closed eyes instinctively snapped open.

5.19 million Fear Points left him somewhat stunned.

Because that still fell short of the purchase price for "Visage" itself.

Back when he bought "Visage," it had cost a whopping 6.9 million Fear Points!

Meng Shu picked up his water cup and took a big gulp, letting his mood settle slightly.

"Alright, with a price tag of 99 yuan and 70 yuan, plus the new data from the two older games, 5.19 million on the first day isn't a loss. The Fear Points will gradually climb later, so no big deal."

Still.

Meng Shu looked at "Dark Forest" and "21 Points."

These two games were already showing signs of slowing growth.

Sure enough, games only released domestically clearly hit a ceiling.

He'd have to talk to the publisher—the next game needed multi-language support and a global release.

Although it was on the Cyber Platform, without overseas promotion and localization, few people knew about it.

At the same time, to boost game exposure, he'd need to send the finished product to media review outlets for scoring.

Finally, there was the issue of political correctness.

Meng Shu frowned in silence, crossed his arms, and leaned back in his chair.

This parallel world shared one thing with the original world.

That was the West still deceiving itself.

To ensure smooth game releases, they would add some politically correct elements to silence certain groups.

But this kind of thing existed in the original world too, so Meng Shu wasn't surprised.

There was a well-known Western developer who strayed from the essence of game design, deeply aware of Western gaming media's scoring biases, and dedicated himself to serving political correctness, piling on various rare buffs in his games that made players sweat with exasperation.

Sure enough, under the boost of multiple politically correct buffs, that game was beloved by Western media, becoming a polarizing miracle in players' eyes.

So much so that many later games doubled down, not even bothering to hide it.

For example, the "aunt face" in Horizon.

Or the female protagonist incident in Dying Light 2, where the development team swapped the lead to a Black woman at the last minute, completely different from the initial demo.

Switching to a Black woman wasn't necessarily unacceptable, but what was over the top was that the team took a face model who wasn't even ugly and turned her into a gorilla-like appearance that players couldn't bear to look at.

Keep in mind, this face model was even considered a beauty in "Men in Black 2" back in the day.

Unable to accept this aesthetic, Chinese players used MODs to replace the female protagonist with the one from the earlier demo.

This behavior was met with backlash from Western player groups, who accused Chinese players of racism, and they proceeded to ban the use of this MOD on major forums, demanding Western players enjoy the game in its "pure" form.

Chinese players, of course, couldn't care less about this behavior—ban it if you want, we'll use it anyway, and we'll enjoy the view. Who cares what you say?

Naturally, this tough stance from Western player groups also sparked discontent within their own ranks.

Thus, the rather classic line "Some people can fool their own brains, but they can't fool their own dicks" garnered high praise on a certain mod site.

At the end of the day, it all came down to political correctness.

Meng Shu thought it over, then shook his head.

He was a countryman; there was no need to imitate foreign political correctness.

If the game were to be localized for global console platforms or foreign markets, he would only make what he wanted to make, rather than blindly pandering to gaming media—that would be putting the cart before the horse.

In Meng Shu's view, games should steer clear of politics as much as possible, delivering players a solid gaming experience.

But as times evolved and capital monopolized, these political forces began actively gravitating toward games, meddling in them.

Then they'd sneak in their own agendas, slamming other nations while promoting themselves.

Meng Shu would avoid such things.

He wouldn't engage in the underhanded act of force-feeding players twisted logic through games.

Now, he turned his gaze to a game he'd already settled on.

"Skyhill."

It was a 2D side-scrolling, vertically downward game.

Due to development budget issues, the game was visibly cheap and crude.

But its gameplay was decent, and the mechanics were pretty fun.

That gave it a modest burst of popularity after its release.

The game's setting depicted an alternate-history West in the midst of a civil war.

The Confederate side was losing ground, showing signs of retreat.

In desperation, the Confederacy launched a mushroom-cloud-producing biochemical weapon at New Europe.

And so, under these circumstances, the Protagonist made his entrance.

In the game, it was explained that he was on a business trip to another city. To enjoy life, he checked into a luxury hotel called "Skyhill" and chose the presidential suite on the 100th floor, the top level.

The suite's selling points were its great view, wide sightlines, and the fact that the entire floor belonged to the suite, complete with a private elevator connecting to all floors.

Living like that, from the open 100th floor, he saw a green mushroom cloud erupting not far away.

In that moment, the world changed.

To guard against radiation, the Protagonist activated biological protection, locked himself in the 100th floor, and dared not step out easily.

The elevator also broke down at the worst possible time, and with no food or water in the room, he grew hungrier by the day.

Meanwhile, he heard growling and chewing sounds from outside the door, making him feel things had gone far beyond his imagination.

Finally, driven by a primal urge, he decided to head out, descend to the 1st floor, and escape this place.

The gameplay was simple: go downstairs, collect food and items on each floor, and before hunger hit zero, return to the 100th floor to spend the night, craft items, and strengthen yourself.

Then go downstairs again, repeating the cycle.

Along the way, you could gather materials to repair the elevator, allowing faster returns to the top or letting you start exploring from that floor directly, without wasting hunger retracing steps from the 99th floor.

Because descending cost hunger points.

Each floor, each room entered, consumed a point.

When hunger ran out, health began to deplete until death.

The player had a total of 100 hunger points and 100 health points, corresponding to 100 floors and 200 rooms.

Thus, mindlessly going down wasn't viable. Using resources wisely, replenishing status promptly, and pressing on became the player's top priority.

The game also had a skill system, but everything was locked at the start and unusable.

Only by descending to lower floors would these skills gradually unlock.

Moreover, the building was filled with mutated creatures. When exploring downward, the Protagonist had to avoid these monsters.

If avoidance was truly impossible, combat ensued.

But since the game focused on exploration and survival, the combat was very barebones—a turn-based system where you hit, then they hit, complete with a miss chance.

What Meng Shu needed to do was buy this game and convert the 2D side-scroller into a 3D VR version.

That essentially meant remaking the game, preserving its mechanics and conceptual design while overhauling the hundred-floor building, art assets, monster models, quests, and everything else.

Turning it into a true horror game of free survival and exploration within the building.

Written on the sly while the boss was out this morning.

Thanks to 'A Lai' for the 1500 tip, appreciate your support!

Thanks to 'Mexican Chicken Roll' for the 2 monthly tickets! Thanks to 'A Lai' for the monthly ticket support! Thank you all!