Chapter 19

[That all sounds pretty good, but for some reason, I can’t shake the feeling there’s a trap here.]
[Wake up, guys. Be confident—it’s definitely a trap!]
[Anyone who can come up with a game this diabolical can’t be up to any good! I don’t believe a single word he says—not even the punctuation!]
[If you’re saying it doesn’t cost money, then now you’ve got my attention. Go on, tell us more.]
[You’re still too naive. Just wait and see.]

Jiang Qiubai shook his head and sighed. “You’ve misunderstood us. We just want players to experience a variety of different gaming styles and find their own fun.”
“As for traps, think about it: last time you all said the Dragon Slayer Sword was way too pay-to-win, the top-up requirement was too high. Didn’t I immediately lower the difficulty?”
“This time you said the game was too hard, and didn’t I come right out and do a livestream?”
“At Dreambuilder Studio, we always put the player experience first! We genuinely listen to our players’ needs.”

And then we reach into your pockets.

Jiang Qiubai finished the sentence in his heart.
His earnest tone and sincerity softened the players’ hearts.
Well... that actually makes sense.
They recalled how, time and again, the studio had always responded to their concerns right away and made adjustments based on their feedback.
Come to think of it, maybe this developer really isn’t so bad?
Some players suddenly felt a pang of guilt.
That feeling spilled right out onto the barrage of on-screen comments, which Jiang Qiubai glanced at before continuing: “For this update, we spent a long time figuring out how to balance fun and player comfort.”
“If the hints are too easy, players won’t value them, and what’s the point of designing challenging levels?” he coaxed gently.
Hmm... the players nodded; that did make sense.
“But making it too hard from the start isn’t very friendly to our players, either.”
Exactly! The players nodded furiously. That’s true!

“After much heated discussion, we decided to cooperate with advertisers. The first time you want a hint, you’ll just need to watch a ten-second ad.”
“The second time, fifteen seconds; the third, twenty, and so on. Of course, we don’t want players watching ads forever, so it tops out at thirty seconds.”
“The ads are only there to make obtaining hints a little harder. Ideally, we hope everyone can clear the game on their own,” Jiang Qiubai sighed, his tone heavy.

That doesn’t sound so bad...? He’s doing this for us—what a nice guy.
The players, thoroughly spun around by Jiang Qiubai, felt it all made sense, though a vague sense of unease lingered.
But what was wrong about it?
Before they could think about it any further, Jiang Qiubai dropped another bombshell: “Since many of you want to recommend this game to your friends, I suggest you send them the video of me playing just now when you do.”
He chuckled, teasing.

[Hiss, why does his voice sound so charming? Say more, I love it!]
[Classic move, you sly dev. I’m definitely sending your video to all my friends!]
[Don’t forget to add, ‘The controls are super easy!’]
[Thank you, streamer, I’ve learned a lot.]

[I already recommended it. My buddies were so moved after playing—they gave me a big, warm hug. That’s enough; time to change my bandages.]

“Besides, if you want your friends to have a unique experience, you can design a map all your own.”
Jiang Qiubai deliberately emphasized the final words.

[Unique to me? What does that mean?]
[Are we supposed to make our own game?]
[If I design a level, none of you will ever clear it!]
[Don’t hold back—tell us more, oh mighty audience!]

The description clearly piqued everyone’s interest. Not just regular viewers—even the game streamers lurking among them, hoping for drama, perked up and sent in more comments.
Just hearing about it, they could tell they’d never run out of content for future streams.
Who doesn’t have a couple of friends they’d love to torment?

Seeing the rapidly climbing viewership, Jiang Qiubai cheerfully opened the editor template Xiao Yang had just finished. “It’s no fun just talking, so let me show you. This is the game editor our studio will release soon.”
When he opened the editor, the background resembled the first entrance to “Dad’s Deadly Adventure”: a pixel figure stood quietly in the lower left, with a round button below showing ‘pause.’
Above was a row of icons. “In this editor, you can freely choose the map background,” he explained, clicking the background. Every background that had ever appeared in the game was displayed as a thumbnail.
Jiang Qiubai picked a relatively empty one at random. “Once you’ve chosen your background, you can freely place obstacles and design your levels.”
He clicked the design button; all possible obstacles appeared in a row.
“If you want to put a patch of grass in midair, just grab the grass icon and drag it wherever you want.” He demonstrated, dragging the grass to the middle of the screen, where it stayed.
Thinking grass alone was too dull, he added a spike above it.
When he let go, two options appeared next to the spike: ‘Show’ and ‘Hide.’
“These little tools can be set to visible or hidden, and to make things clear, hidden objects become semi-transparent.”
Jiang Qiubai selected ‘Hide’; the spike turned translucent, leaving only its outline.
Just like that, a simple trap was set up. He pressed the button below, switching from ‘pause’ to ‘start.’
The spike vanished entirely, the icons disappeared, and it looked like an ordinary map.
“After designing a level, to test if it works, you can click the button below to simulate a playthrough.”
Jiang Qiubai controlled the little character to the spiked spot. One step, and the screen exploded in a spray of blood.
“That means the trap’s working.” He paused the simulation; the icons above reappeared.
“You can check the tutorial for other features once the editor’s live. Some of the tougher traps can be pretty tricky to set up,” Jiang Qiubai winked. “But I believe none of you are that cruel—you’d never set impossible traps for your friends, right?”

Players: Heh. The devil is right in front of me, and he’s talking about someone else?
It’s not like we have to play it ourselves—these are for our friends. Of course, we want them to have a truly unforgettable experience.
Some quick-witted players were already scheming up unsolvable maps to torment their friends.

Naturally, Jiang Qiubai anticipated this. Watching the eager comments, he added lightly, “After you finish your map, you’ll need to clear it yourself before you can upload it to our server.”

The barrage, only just calmed, exploded once again.

[The smile I just had froze on my face.]

[Why! If I’m good enough to trick my friends, why do I have to play it myself?]
[You have way too much faith in my skills.]
[Looking to hire someone with the skills to clear a high-difficulty map—name your price.]
[That’s a whole new world you just opened up.]
[Is even this monetizable??]

Unlike the regular viewers, the game streamers took it in stride.
They already had the skills; if they’d failed before, it was only because the hidden traps were too evil.
Now, since they could set everything themselves, it was much easier.
Baldy chuckled to himself, already plotting how to trap the friends who’d mocked him during his streams.
As long as I’m not the one getting caught, this is the best game ever!

“Once you upload your map, you can choose whether or not to make it public. If you do, then anyone with the editor can see your design.” Jiang Qiubai lobbed another bomb.
“And to encourage creativity, you can set your map as free or charge up to 10 yuan. If another player buys it, you’ll receive the payment directly—the studio only verifies the source of funds and takes no commission.”
“We’ll also periodically select outstanding maps to include in the official game. If your map is chosen, you’ll win a generous prize.”

A couple of developers can only come up with so many ideas, but with this many players, inspiration is limitless.
Players get fun and maybe some cash, the studio gets a pile of new maps and a steady stream of future content.
It’s a win-win all around.

Players, who’d already been interested, were now practically glowing with excitement.

[This guy’s alright! We could be friends!]
[Sorry for my earlier tone—I sincerely apologize here: the game is great, any issues are definitely on me.]
[Hurry up and release it! My eighteen friends are dying for this!]
[When’s the update? Hurry up, hurry up!]

The comments were full of impatience; they wished they could download the editor and get started right now.

“We’ll release it in a few days along with the hint update,” Jiang Qiubai said, ending the stream with those words.

As soon as the stream ended, Old Liu came over. “Boss, all those companies agreed to our price, and a few more want to negotiate.”
The viewership and content revealed in Jiang Qiubai's stream had shown them the business potential.
“Stick to the original price, but check their products before signing. If there’s an issue, don’t partner with them,” Jiang Qiubai instructed.

The contracts were signed smoothly. After receiving the ad materials, and thanks to Xiao Yang’s overtime, the editor was quickly launched.
Baldy, who’d been refreshing Weibo and the official site, rushed to download it and immediately launched a stream.
“I’m making a game for my dear friends,” Baldy cackled as he changed the stream’s title.