Chapter Fifteen: Zhou Shun's Opportunity

Yu Jia could hardly believe her eyes, yet no matter how many times she refreshed the page, the daily revenue she saw remained at 2,897.

She wanted to ask Yin Jian what was going on.

But after typing out the words, she hesitated.

As an operations manager, not knowing the details about her own designer was undoubtedly a sign of failure.

Suppressing the urge to inquire, Yu Jia replied with a simple, “Alright, I’ll let you know.”

After sending the message, the frustration that had been weighing on her heart vanished.

Though she had no idea how Yin Jian had managed to achieve this, she couldn’t deny that her judgment had not been wrong.

Work was becoming interesting again.

A satisfied smile tugged at her lips. The rewards of hard work were always fulfilling.

However, after the initial excitement faded, she grew vexed once more. The game’s sudden popularity seemed to have little to do with her, and the sense of accomplishment she’d felt dissolved in an instant.

“That bastard!”

She cursed softly and began to consider how to fulfill the promise she’d made to Yin Jian.

Transferring a designer from another operations manager was anything but simple.

It required the consent of both parties, as well as a labyrinth of procedures.

Typically, when an operations manager poached a designer, they’d do so when the designer was about to release their next game, as this could avoid the paperwork and much of the hassle.

But Yin Jian’s intention was clear—he wanted both the designer and the game to transfer at once.

“Troublesome.”

Yu Jia twisted a lock of her long hair between her fingers. This guy did nothing but throw problems her way; last time it had been the refusal to promote the game.

To have such a designer under her charge was pure misfortune.

Despite these thoughts, she had no intention of going back on her word.

If she couldn’t even accomplish tasks promised to her own designer, who would follow her in the future?

First, Yu Jia asked Yin Jian for details about Zhou Shun.

Then, she frowned, pondering how to pry Zhou Shun from Ye Yu’s hands.

“Now’s not the time to ask,” she muttered, maneuvering her fingers to open the operations backend and check Ye Yu’s games.

Judging by the number of favorites, the results weren’t impressive.

The highest barely surpassed six thousand, and Zhou Shun’s game struggled to reach three thousand.

The comments were universally negative.

“…”

Seeing this, Yu Jia was at a loss.

His results rivaled Yin Jian’s at the time.

Birds of a feather, indeed.

Still, despite Zhou Shun’s poor performance, this gave Yu Jia an idea.

“I’ll wait for the Sunday recommendations to come in, then go find Ye Yu…”

She mapped out the process in her mind, then opened “Insect Wars.”

She wanted to take a look at this game first—after all, it would soon be under her jurisdiction. If it could be salvaged, she’d try.

However…

Half an hour later, Yu Jia exited the game.

Her once rosy cheeks were now pale.

She felt her worldview had been shaken. Was this really something a human could come up with?

…

Back home, Zhou Shun immediately sat at his computer, pondering how to revise his game.

Before any changes, the game’s content was as follows:

Players, as an ant, would participate in repeated nest-destroying crises.

Various runes with different effects could be found, each granting the ant a special ability—flight, claws, acid, and so on.

The main storyline followed a typical superhero plot, but from the ant’s perspective, offering a certain appeal to players used to a human point of view.

After considering, Zhou Shun didn’t start working right away. Instead, he opened his neural terminal and sent some of his ideas to Yin Jian for advice.

From their past conversations, he’d realized Yin Jian was competent—unlike that useless operations manager Xuan Yu, who knew nothing.

Yin Jian replied: “There are only three things that make a game compelling: satisfaction, fun, and excitement. If you fulfill any one of these, it’s a good game.”

“I’ve read your ideas. My suggestion is to enhance the effects of the runes, and at the same time, multiply the number of enemies. Let the player truly experience the thrill of combat.”

After reading Yin Jian’s message carefully, Zhou Shun nodded.

It made sense, though the real effect would only be clear after implementation.

His game was already a mess; no matter how much he changed it, things couldn’t get any worse.

…

The weekend arrived quickly.

Yun Ying, as usual, entered the office with the report card in hand.

“Yun, how did we do?” Ye Yu asked immediately.

Yun Ying shook her head, set the report on the table. “See for yourself.”

The tone in her voice made Ye Yu’s expression shift, though he still clung to hope.

But when he saw the replay data for his games, his face turned black as coal.

“Useless, the lot of them!”

He cursed under his breath.

Yun Ying frowned at his outburst, clear displeasure on her face, but said nothing.

After working with Ye Yu for some time, she understood his character and had no intention of wasting emotion on someone like him.

“Alright, back to work,” Yun Ying said to the others, then turned and left.

As soon as she exited, Yu Jia approached Ye Yu.

Glancing at the report, she saw that the replay rate for Ye Yu’s signed games hovered around three to four percent—“Insect Wars” was only at 0.7 percent.

It had utterly crashed and burned.

“What, here to gloat?” Ye Yu’s tone was hostile as he saw her approach.

He was sure she’d come to kick him while he was down.

Yu Jia ignored his attitude and stated her purpose, “I want the designer with the green hat under your team.”

“Hm?” Ye Yu was puzzled by her sudden request, but…

“No problem. But he’s already used up one of my recommendation slots, so…”

He didn’t care about a useless designer. If he could recoup some losses through this transfer, all the better.

Hearing this, Yu Jia cursed his shamelessness inwardly, but she’d expected it and agreed without hesitation.

They sought out Yun Ying and, after some time, completed all the necessary procedures.

Yun Ying didn’t understand Yu Jia’s move, but Yu Jia simply said she saw potential in Zhou Shun. She made no mention of Yin Jian.

With everything finalized, the afternoon had arrived.

Yu Jia returned to her desk, opened the operations backend, and first notified Yin Jian that she’d fulfilled her promise.

Then she sent Zhou Shun a friend request, intending to have a good talk with him.

She hoped he’d improve his game—perhaps there was still a chance to save it.

P.S.: Ah! I’m so anxious. It’s the first time I’ve waited this long for a status update. I’m starting to wonder if the courier sent it to the wrong address.