A new version of Infinite World?
He really hadn't seen any news about that game for a long time.
He remembered that back then he had even deliberately set aside time to play it.
In the end he discovered it was trash. He was so furious that he ranted and cursed for ages on the discussion forums.
Because earlier, that game had belonged under Mikfo, and Mikfo's games didn't have any system that allowed players to freely leave reviews.
From that alone, he felt Mikfo's platform couldn't compare to Battle.net.
On Battle.net, you could openly criticize games you didn't like. You could also happily share, through comments, the games you enjoyed. Those reviews could even be shared to the Facebook social network, making it easy for more people to see what games you liked and what games you hated.
Later, when the game came to Battle.net and officially announced it had joined Gamestar Electronic Entertainment, quite a few players who still clung to a sliver of hope began to look forward to it.
But that had been a long time ago.
He still hadn't bought the game on Battle.net, because he felt it simply wasn't worth it.
It wasn't worth spending another few dozen dollars on it.
That kind of game was just an ordinary indie title that had been forcibly pushed up into a class where it didn't belong.
It made people mistakenly think it was some top-tier AAA blockbuster—some huge-budget, heavy-capital development project.
But in reality, it was a game made by a team that started with barely a dozen people, and even at release only had around a hundred at most—and it still took two or three years.
That alone meant a game like this could never be massive in scale.
All you could say was that the team's ambition had been a little too big at the start.
He closed the pop-up ad and prepared to look at other games.
But suddenly he noticed there was a very eye-catching label beneath the recommended banner.
A green discount tag.
75% OFF.
On Battle.net, Infinite World had an original price of $29.9.
Now it was $7.5.
That price…
Hiss…
Why did he suddenly want to buy it?
His hand moved involuntarily toward the "Add to Cart" option.
But he quickly shook his head. A game like that wasn't worth him spending too much effort on.
He didn't want to waste too much time on garbage like this.
$7.5 sounded cheap.
But if he didn't spend it, he could buy two bottles of beer with $7.5. Wouldn't that be better than this trash game?
So he decided to close the ad anyway.
After closing it, he chose to forget the game and check out others.
Christmas was approaching, and Battle.net's winter sale was about to begin as well.
This winter sale was a bit later than previous ones.
And during this sale, there were so many high-quality games waiting for him.
There was no need to waste money on a game already doomed to be trash.
However—perhaps because he'd seen the promotion in advance—he found that he spent the entire day thinking about Infinite World.
Should he… buy it?
No, no. Don't buy it. Spending the money is one thing—making yourself miserable is the worst part.
He threw the thought out of his head again, completely forgetting about it.
Two days later, the winter sale arrived as scheduled. Every major game company was rubbing their hands together, eager to boost revenue hard during the promotion.
Many games offered very decent discounts.
For players, it was naturally a very happy day. They had saved up money for ages, just waiting to spend it properly today.
It was also a way of rewarding themselves for the whole year.
But for veteran players, sales like this were tempting—and also frustrating.
If you're called a "veteran player," you usually have one trait: you've played a lot of games.
And the types you've played are also extremely diverse.
Some veteran players have several hundred games in their libraries.
And most of those are the currently popular genres.
Some veteran players might even own every hot game on the market.
And once you own all the hot games… what are you supposed to buy during a sale?
Nothing. You can't buy anything.
As a game critic, this veteran player was the same.
He had prepared several hundred dollars this year for buying games.
But when he opened Battle.net, he realized there were barely any games he actually wanted to buy or play.
And any that he did want were already in his library.
It was ridiculous—who would've thought you could end up with money in hand and nowhere to spend it?
Miserable!
And then, right at that moment, he finally remembered Infinite World again.
Sometimes people are really strange.
If you can't spend your money, you should feel happy—because that means you're saving.
But right now, he felt awful precisely because he couldn't spend it. He wanted to at least buy something that made him happy.
He didn't drink much, didn't smoke, didn't gamble, and definitely didn't do anything illegal—so sometimes, even with money, he truly didn't know what to do with it.
Fine. Didn't Infinite World say it had released the latest version? He might as well take a look and see what this new version actually looked like.
With that mindset, he clicked into Infinite World's store page.
On the product page, he noticed the game's cover art had changed this time.
The previous cover had looked very rough and low-quality.
He hated that style—it felt careless. And also, because the game had hurt him back then, he'd come to loathe that cover even more.
Now the cover looked completely different—much more refined.
The main composition was a portal right in the center.
Beside the portal, a fully armored person reached a hand into the unknown other world.
Through a sliver of visible gaze behind the helmet, you could see a pair of curious eyes.
As if wondering what the world beyond might be like.
If he'd only given the old cover a 3 out of 10…
Then the beauty and artistry of this new cover deserved a 7 out of 10.
It was pleasant to look at.
Just from the "face" of the cover alone, he felt the dev team had been more sincere this time.
But a cover alone wouldn't change his opinion.
Then he clicked the promotional screenshots.
This time, the screenshots had changed drastically too.
Previously, the screenshots were all in-game landscapes from Infinite World.
Those scenes looked dreamy and beautiful.
Players who hadn't played would marvel: Are these worlds really that pretty? Does that mean every randomly generated world looks like this?
But players who had actually played the game would only sneer when they saw those old screenshots.
A scam.
A total scam.
And not even a subtle one.
To trick more players into buying Infinite World, all the promotional screenshots had been pre-rendered. They weren't randomly generated worlds at all.
Some players were so furious that they later tried to sue the game for fraud—but it ended up going nowhere.
That kind of lawsuit is very hard to win unless you have tens of thousands of people filing together.
Most buyers just felt like they'd swallowed a fly—disgusted for a while—and didn't want to waste any more time on the game.
No refund? Fine. It's just a few dozen dollars. That was how many people thought. Not everyone was the type to stubbornly pursue justice to the bitter end.
And Mikfo had exploited exactly that weakness in human nature, shamelessly scamming players.
But now, on Battle.net's Infinite World page, the promotional screenshots were no longer those scam-like landscape shots.
Instead, huge text highlighted brand-new features.
"All-new building system: work hard to build an entire planet-world of your own. The whole world is yours—create whatever kind of world you want."
"Online co-op: support up to four friends adventuring, building, and exploring together in the same world."
"Huh? Co-op and building?"
As a seasoned "farming/sandbox" type player, the building feature instantly caught his attention.
What attracted him even more were the dozen-plus images of buildings in different styles—each one beautiful.
These buildings weren't made from developer-made static models.
They were built entirely by players, piece by piece, using construction materials inside the game.
Build your own house from scratch? Your own city?
A flame deep inside this veteran builder-player immediately ignited.
As for multiplayer, he didn't care much. He wasn't the type who loved playing online.
He especially disliked co-op in farming/building games.
Because he felt it would be boring, and everyone has different building tastes. When people with different styles try to build together, it's pointless—worse, it could even cause conflicts.
So he ignored that part completely.
Building… and only $7.5.
Now, he was genuinely tempted.
Even though he'd been emotionally cheated once before, he found himself thinking: What if I believe one more time?
Anyway, he hadn't spent his budget. He might as well buy it.
Finally, he made up his mind: add to cart, purchase in one smooth flow, and start downloading.
Wait.
He suddenly remembered—he already owned the game on Mikfo's PC platform.
If Battle.net had the new version, wouldn't Mikfo update too? Then there was no need to waste money buying it again. He could just play on Mikfo's platform.
But he quickly thought of everything about Mikfo's platform that annoyed him.
For example, the network lagged all the time. Even downloading a game required a lot of hassle before it would succeed. And the platform lacked all kinds of incentive systems.
No achievements. No level rewards for achievements. And none of Battle.net's unique item-and-card trading features either.
Those features were basically part of Battle.net's soul. He truly couldn't understand why other platforms didn't learn from them.
After all, those features should be able to attract new players in a big way.
Forget it. He'd already bought it—he'd just play on Battle.net with peace of mind.
And playing on Battle.net also gave account experience. His account was just about to level up.
Plus, Battle.net had achievements too—those were fun.
So he stopped considering Mikfo's platform.
If he did go back to Mikfo, he would discover that Mikfo hadn't even updated yet.
Because it was right after work hours, and when Mikfo's U.S. platform received the new version data from the Infinite World dev team… they actually forgot to upload the patch.
On the official store page they had already swapped in the new cover and promotional images, but the new build hadn't been uploaded at all.
Maybe they simply no longer cared about this "defector" game.
At the same time, there was no discount on Mikfo's platform—it was still sold at full price.
And just like that, anyone who had still been considering buying it through Mikfo immediately lost interest and switched to Battle.net.
On Battle.net, after buying the game you could play across multiple platforms: Mikfo's home console, Facebook mobile cloud gaming, and even a low-graphics handheld version—anytime, anywhere.
But Mikfo? Only PC.
The difference was obvious.
As a veteran player and game reviewer, he spent a little over an hour downloading the game, then entered the game.
"Welcome. You can choose to log into your Infinite World account for multi-platform connectivity, so that even on platforms outside Battle.net you can still experience Infinite World's content in real time."
He had registered an Infinite World account before. He typed in his login smoothly, and then a new screen appeared.
"Hi—long time no see. Thank you very much for visiting again."
On the pitch-black screen, those words appeared.
The tone was warm and friendly, making people feel comfortable—like an old friend catching up.
The veteran player nodded, strongly approving of this presentation. It looked like they were finally treating players like their own people, unlike before when they didn't treat players like people at all.
Looks like after joining Gamestar Electronic Entertainment, they had indeed made many changes.
That alone deserved praise.
"Here, we also want to apologize. We are very sorry that this world was not perfect before."
"But we did not give up."
"And so this world has been reborn. We hope you can spare a little time to enter this world and experience the reborn Infinite World once again—and we also hope you can find enjoyment in this reborn Infinite World."
The message ended, and the main menu appeared.
On the main menu was a doorway with an open spatial passage. With just one click on the door, the game would officially begin.