Just as Qian Peng was about to see whether he could Exit Game, livestream comments floated across the window in the upper-right corner of his vision.
"Holy shit? This graphics quality! Glorious Expedition's official team is actually serious?"
"This looks even better than PC! It's so realistic, my theme park effect is acting up!"
"The official team has been cooking something huge!"
"This isn't the Forgotten Caves. The new version starts differently from the old one. Will there be new story content?"
"Streamer, move already! Check whether the latency is high for us!"
Seeing the heated discussion among the viewers, Qian Peng immediately relaxed.
He picked out several useful comments and answered his viewers based on his past experience with holographic games.
"The latency isn't high, and the five senses are implemented really solidly. It feels just like the real thing. But I'm using top-tier equipment here, only slightly worse than a Brain-Computer Interface, so it's not much of a reference."
As he spoke, he flexed his fingers. Then he suddenly blurted out, "Holy shit," unable to stop himself from praising it.
"Don't just look at the graphics. The action system is Expedition's core! Look! They even modeled the finger joints!"
"I'm starting to suspect this game built complete skeletons for player characters, which is why the movements are this realistic..."
At that point, Qian Peng remembered the three million he had lost and immediately added:
"Too bad it's only a half-finished product. It doesn't even have cutscenes."
Yet no matter how stubbornly he talked, Qian Peng was still thrilled inside.
Ever since holographic games were born, people had proposed the concept of a "second life."
But limited by technology, no game company had ever put effort into making controls feel truly real.
There was no other reason—it simply cost too much money.
Most games chose to play to their strengths and avoid their weaknesses during development, only making one particular aspect stand out.
For example, Expedition had poor graphics, so it focused on action.
Games like that were fun, sure, but they had nothing to do with a "second life." After all, the logic behind controlling a character was entirely different from reality. They were really just games.
That was precisely what made Glorious Expedition so valuable.
It was practically his dream game!
After calming down, Qian Peng could not help but wonder what kind of gameplay this game would have, given such an incredible foundation.
He looked around and found that, aside from himself, ten other people were lying on the ground.
There were humans, dwarves, elves, Dragonkin, half-winged Heavenly Realm Dwellers, shadowfolk, Wind Elementals...
For several of them, just their race and build made it easy to guess what class they intended to play.
They were obviously veteran players.
So there were only eleven players in Glorious Expedition's first batch?
Then which unlucky bastard had spent over an hour customizing their face?
Qian Peng narrowed his eyes, wanting to identify the culprit based on these people's character models.
Just then, the Dragonkin lying on the ground groaned and became the second person to wake up.
He shook his head, then instinctively used his tail to brush nonexistent dust from his pants.
Then an expression of utter shock appeared on his aged lizard face.
He stared blankly at his tail, gave it a gentle flick, then turned to Qian Peng and pointed at it, his face full of disbelief.
Before Qian Peng could react, the livestream comments had already gone insane.
"Woke up too hard today. I just saw a shocked expression on a lizard face."
"From what this guy means... did this game actually model the Dragonkin skeleton too?"
"Everyone, before discussing tails, don't forget there's still an Elemental Lifeform lying on the ground."
"I don't even dare imagine how much money this game burned through. This is ridiculous!"
Watching the discussion in the comments, Qian Peng swallowed. He was already beginning to regret choosing human.
"Fellow countryman, you see my tail?" The Dragonkin raised his brows and showed off in a thick Central Plains accent. "It's real, y'know."
Qian Peng did not respond.
He found the Dragonkin's voice somewhat familiar, but could not remember where he had heard it.
So he glanced at the livestream comments.
"Whoa, that familiar hometown accent... Could this be Down-Head Saber?"
"Down-Head Saber? Who's that?"
"The world's number-one Down-Head Saber."
"Three-time Expedition Cup champion, high EQ in domestic matches, an undefeated god in international matches, a legendary former pro who always won the title whenever he made it to the Expedition Cup World Championship."
Sure enough, the old hands in the livestream had already dug up the Dragonkin's entire background.
"Are you... Brother Dao?" Qian Peng looked at the ID above the Dragonkin's head. He was already ninety percent sure the comments were right.
The elderly Dragonkin named "Not Iaido, But Drawing Sword" stroked his beard with a proud expression, then suddenly snapped:
"Who's calling me Down-Head Saber? I'm so mad I'm shaking! What did us drawing-sword players ever do to you?"
Well, damn. This guy was actually watching his stream...
Qian Peng did not know how to respond.
This was a senior figure from the Expedition professional league!
Back when Qian Peng had still been writing beginner guides, Brother Dao had already been slaughtering Koreans like dogs.
Just then, the dwarf lying on the ground woke up as well. He patted his chest with his tiny hand and muttered fearfully:
"That scared me to death. If I hadn't been able to Exit Game, I would've thought I'd transmigrated."
Qian Peng's brow twitched. He keenly caught the issue and hurriedly asked:
"You exited the game just now?"
The dwarf glanced at Qian Peng and timidly hummed in confirmation.
Qian Peng clicked his tongue and said gloomily:
"Then we're screwed. Your body was still lying here the whole time, which means we'll have to find a safe room before logging off in the future."
"This setting is really old-school." Another player lying on the ground sat up as well.
He looked mostly human, except that half a wing grew from his back.
Qian Peng shrugged, then looked at the comments again. Seeing everyone discussing the same issue, he explained out of professional habit:
"Keeping your body in the world after logging off is basically openly forcing players to log back in. Plenty of idiotic game designers used this method in the past to force players into increasing their online time."
"The good news is that those games generally died fast. Players vote with their feet. There's no need to make playing a game more exhausting than going to work."
As he spoke, Qian Peng clenched his fist, then slowly relaxed it and sighed.
"The bad news is that Glorious Expedition's one-of-a-kind graphics and control feedback give it the qualifications to pull this kind of stunt."
The moment he finished speaking, an opposing voice came from behind him.
"I don't agree with that."
The shadowfolk player named "Lost a Leg" stood up and retorted:
"The purpose of keeping bodies in the world after logging off is to create a sense of realism in the game world."
"If NPCs react to players who have logged off, and related content is designed around it—such as homes, inns, and the like—it could massively increase the game's immersion."
"You're right." Qian Peng did not argue. "How about you give an example?"
Lost a Leg: "..."
While the two spoke, the other players gradually woke up as well.
Aside from the Wind Elemental, who could barely stand steadily, nearly every player curiously hopped around and fiddled with their newly acquired body as soon as they woke up.
Only after the novelty wore off did they remember there was still a human lying on the ground.
"Did this guy log off?" The elf player closest to him walked over and curiously examined the human.
Only then did everyone notice that the half-dead human had a golden frame above his head, one that did not belong to players.
Creator God