The Players' Adoration

He wasn't trying to squeeze his employees—he'd simply forgotten.

"Awesome! Oh, by the way, Manager Wang, our game's a hit now, right?"

Zhao Jing breathed a sigh of relief, finally done with the endless phone calls.

But then she perked up with curiosity, fishing for details on Soul Knight's performance.

"Of course. If sitting at number one on the game charts doesn't count as a hit, then nothing does."

Wang Chuan nodded with a smile, confirming the result.

"Right, right! I've been on the game forums, and everyone's talking about Soul Knight."

Huang Shanshan was beaming too, her eyes curving like crescent moons.

After all, everyone had pitched in and contributed to the birth of Soul Knight.

So how could they not share in the pride and joy?

Actually, it wasn't just Wang Chuan and his team chatting—plenty of people were discussing it online too.

You could say Soul Knight had absolutely blown up.

Even though other media outlets and players couldn't see Wang Chuan's editor backend or the exact data.

But don't forget—Soul Knight itself had been uploaded to the official game platform and the mobile game store.

Oh, and The Parable of Illidan had also announced its own numbers.

So using that as a benchmark, Soul Knight's performance could be roughly estimated.

Before Soul Knight's results came out, most media outlets thought it could succeed.

Maybe not with huge numbers, but breaking even was a sure thing.

After all, The Stanley Parable had set a precedent.

Plus, there was the added heat from the feud between Wang Chuan and Tian Boxun.

All of that gave Soul Knight uniquely favorable conditions.

But when it came to beating The Parable of Illidan—backed by Penguin—most media believed it was a long shot, basically impossible.

Tian Boxun had years of industry experience and the promotional support of a giant like Penguin.

Even if he couldn't churn out a game as explosive as The Stanley Parable, he'd still land above the passing line.

With Penguin's marketing push, The Parable of Illidan's first-month sales could conservatively hit over 700,000.

That figure was widely acknowledged by most media outlets and big-name influencers.

And Soul Knight?

Its development team?

Just Wang Chuan alone!

Promotional resources?

Only the Huangtu Game Company—a tiny company Wang Chuan had built himself.

Sure, it was called a company, but everyone in the industry knew its foundation was no different from a small studio.

How could it have any promotional reach?

On top of that, Soul Knight didn't sign with any third-party platforms—it only launched on the official game platform.

But now, with Soul Knight's data out, everyone who'd been so confident had egg on their faces.

Right at launch, The Parable of Illidan shot straight to the top, while Soul Knight couldn't even crack the charts.

As time passed, Soul Knight climbed onto the rankings, but it lagged behind, while The Parable of Illidan stayed at number one.

Now, twenty-four hours later, Soul Knight had seized the top spot, with The Parable of Illidan stuck firmly in second.

What kind of god-tier move was this?

And Soul Knight's rise didn't stop at topping the charts.

Across major game forums, player reviews of Soul Knight were multiplying.

The game's online buzz was unprecedented.

If earlier media coverage had focused on the feud between Wang Chuan and Tian Boxun, this time, it was all player-driven, centered on discussions of the game itself.

Because Soul Knight was a Roguelike game, packed with random elements.

Every playthrough felt like the first time, each one fresh and new.

So every player who'd tried it naturally recommended it to others.

And those who came in, after experiencing all the fun mechanics, turned into unpaid promoters themselves.

Then recommend it to others, and the cycle repeats.

Back in that familiar gaming circle, a group of people were once again discussing Soul Knight.

"Ugh, I died at the boss again. It's way too hard later on~~~"

"It's fine! As long as you move a bit more flexibly, it's a piece of cake."

"Hey, what class do you guys think is more fun? I'm thinking of switching!"

"Me, Rogue, number one in the world!"

"Pfft, what's your Rogue? My Knight is the best—long health bar, great defense, and strong attack. Basically invincible."

"You're all trash. Paladin is the real deal, alright? That's a pay-to-play character. Once you activate the skill, you're invincible—even bullets can't touch you."

"Enough, enough. Classes don't matter compared to a lucky dog. They walk into the Wishing Pool and pull a miracle on a Single Pull. Not like me—my Ten-Pull is all junk I already have."

"What's that compared to this? I just opened a Gacha Machine and got a bomb. Thought it was a weapon, so I ran over all happy, and then—BAM—it exploded. It actually exploded. I'm done~~~"

"What? No way, no way. Someone still hasn't pulled an orange weapon???"

"Shut up!!" *n

The game had been out for a day, and plenty of players were posting on forums, sharing their experiences.

Among them, two types were the hottest topics.

One was the lucky dog, the other the unlucky one.

And that's the hallmark of Roguelike games.

What you get all depends on your face and fate.

When a lucky dog plays, it feels like the whole world is helping them. Using a laser gun? The talents they get are always laser-gun-related.

Bored of the laser gun? No problem—whatever they want, they pull it.

As for orange weapons or red weapons? Their backpack's full, and they're stuck deciding what to toss.

For the unlucky ones, it's the complete opposite experience.

Pulling bombs and the like is pretty common.

But even so, it doesn't make players hate it.

Instead, their enthusiasm only grows!!!

Of course, it's not because players have some weird hobby—it's because of Soul Knight's own nature.

The game is fast-paced, and every run is a fresh experience.

Unlucky this time? No problem—next time, you'll be the lucky one.

And after being a lucky dog once, experiencing the whole world helping you, feeling like you've got divine support for everything you do...

Can you really bear to give that up?