The executive conference room on the 40th floor was a stark contrast to the basement dungeon where Team 7 had been laboring. It was a temple of minimalism—polished obsidian tables, floor-to-ceiling windows overlooking the glittering sprawl of District 9, and air that smelled faintly of expensive synthetic coffee.
Zhong Ming stood at the end of the long table. To his left sat Lin Wan, the Creative Director, her face a mask of professional indifference. To his right sat Zhou Kai, looking like a cat that had just cornered a mouse. Scattered around the table were other department heads and executives, all waiting to see if the "World Architect" would crash and burn.
The room was dark, illuminated only by the massive holographic projection hovering above the table.
"Proceed," Lin Wan said, tapping her stylus against her lip.
Zhong Ming nodded to Li Wei, who was sitting in the back with a laptop connected to the main display.
"The market analysis indicated a saturation of high-fidelity simulations," Zhong Ming began, his voice steady despite the fatigue pulling at his bones. "We sought to create an alternative. A game that prioritizes the dopamine loop over polygon count."
"Get on with it," Zhou Kai interjected smoothly. "We've seen the screenshots. Let's see if it runs."
Li Wei hit the enter key.
The screen lit up. The title screen was simple, stark white text against a dark, pixelated background: **SURVIVOR'S DAWN**.
There was no orchestral swell, no cinematic cutscene. Just the thumping, synthesizer beat that Zhong Ming had spent hours perfecting. It was fast, rhythmic, and instantly energetic.
Zhong Ming took the controller. He didn't give a presentation on the code. He didn't explain the lore. He simply played.
The game started. A pixelated knight stood in the center of a grassy field.
Zhou Kai leaned forward, ready to scoff. "Is that it? Where is the texture mapping? Where is the ambient occlusion?"
Zhong Ming didn't answer. He moved the joystick.
Instantly, the knight dashed. *Ding.* A small slime popped. A gem flew into the knight.
*Ding. Ding. Ding.*
The sound effects were punchy, perfectly synced with the driving music. Within seconds, the screen was filled with enemies—green blobs, red bats, skeletal mages.
Zhong Ming weaved through the crowd, the knight's auto-attacks spraying bolts of magic in all directions.
Then, the first level up.
The game didn't pause; it froze for a split second, the screen flashing with a bright, satisfying chime. Four options appeared.
**[Fire Wand]**
**[Holy Water]**
**[Empty Tome]**
**[Spinach]**
"He's choosing an upgrade," an executive from the finance department muttered, leaning in. "Look at the particle effects on the fire."
Zhong Ming selected the Fire Wand. Suddenly, the knight wasn't just shooting arrows; he was launching spiraling fireballs that exploded on impact. The screen shake kicked in. The enemies didn't just die; they burst into showers of gold coins and experience gems.
The speed increased. The music intensified.
Zhou Kai frowned. "It's chaotic. You can't see anything. It's a mess."
"It's controlled chaos," Lin Wan corrected him quietly, her eyes fixed on the screen. "Look at his movement path. He's circling them. He's controlling the spawn rate."
Zhong Ming hit the 10-minute mark. The screen turned red. A massive, pixelated reaper appeared on the screen—the "Death" enemy from the classic games he was emulating.
The executives gasped. The sudden difficulty spike was palpable even to the observers.
Zhong Ming's fingers moved with lightning speed. He dodged a scythe swing, grabbed a "Magnet" item, and vacuumed up a screen full of gems. He leveled up instantly, filling his health bar.
*Level Up!*
**[Evolution Available: Hellfire]**
His fire wand transformed. A wall of flame erupted around the character, clearing the entire screen in a glorious, roaring cascade of destruction.
**[VICTORY!]**
The music hit its final crescendo, fading into a soft, melodic chiptune melody. The run time: 15 minutes.
Zhong Ming put the controller down. The room was silent.
He turned to face the table.
"The current industry standard for a mobile session is 3 to 5 minutes," Zhong Ming said into the quiet. "But our telemetry shows that players stay engaged for 15 to 30 minutes in this format. The 'One More Run' psychology is strong. The production cost is 5% of a standard simulation. The replayability is infinite."
Zhou Kai let out a dry chuckle, trying to regain control of the room. "It's a gimmick. A cheap arcade toy. You can't build a franchise on this. *Frontline Duty* has a narrative. It has prestige."
"Prestige doesn't pay the server bills if no one logs in," Zhong Ming countered. He looked directly at Lin Wan. "Director Lin, you wanted a product that could penetrate the lower-income districts. This runs on a ten-year-old handheld. It runs on a fridge screen. It costs nothing to distribute. And most importantly..."
He paused for effect.
"...it's fun. When was the last time you saw someone smile while playing *Frontline Duty*?"
Zhou Kai's face flushed red. "You arrogant—"
"Enough," Lin Wan said. She stood up.
The room held its breath.
She walked over to the console where Zhong Ming was standing. She picked up the controller.
"Reset the run," she ordered.
Li Wei quickly restarted the game.
Lin Wan sat down. She was a corporate veteran, not a hardcore gamer. Her movements were clumsy at first. She bumped into enemies, taking damage.
But then, the "Juice" kicked in.
*Ding. Ding.*
She got a "Magic Wand." She started killing enemies without aiming.
*Ding.*
She leveled up. She chose "Shield."
She started to relax. Her shoulders dropped. The tension from the boardroom melted away as she watched the numbers fly.
She played for five minutes. Then ten.
The finance executive checked his watch, then looked back at the screen, mesmerized by the rhythm of the gems being collected.
Finally, at the 12-minute mark, her character was swarmed by a boss. She died.
**[GAME OVER]**
The screen offered her a button: **[RETRY?]**
Her thumb hovered over it.
She didn't press it immediately. She looked at the "Retry" button, then at the flashing high score.
She put the controller down, but her hand lingered near it.
"The monetization model?" she asked, her voice businesslike, though her eyes betrayed a lingering spark of interest.
"Cosmetic skins for characters," Zhong Ming answered immediately. "Resurrections using premium currency. But the core game is free. It's a 'Free-to-Play' model with ethical monetization. We don't sell power; we sell style and convenience."
Lin Wan turned to Zhou Kai.
"Zhou, your team's latest update for *Frontline Duty* increased the install size by 4GB and crashed 20% of user devices," she said coolly.
"It... it was a necessary patch for texture streaming," Zhou Kai stammered.
"Zhong Ming's game is 50MB," Lin Wan stated. "And it held my attention longer than your last three cutscenes combined."
She turned back to Zhong Ming. The faintest hint of a smile touched her lips—a rare sight in the halls of Guangyi.
"Project approved for Beta Launch," she announced. "We will soft-launch in Districts 9, 10, and 12 next week. Zhong Ming, you have proven the concept."
She paused, glancing at the "Game Over" screen one last time.
"And... get me a build on my personal tablet. I want to beat that boss."
Zhou Kai sat frozen, his jaw tight. He had been dismissed. In front of everyone.
Zhong Ming nodded, keeping his face neutral despite the triumph screaming in his mind. "Yes, Director."
...
As the executives filed out, Lin Wan stopped beside Zhong Ming.
"This isn't over," she said quietly. "A prototype is one thing. A hit is another. The market is cruel. If your retention numbers drop below 30% on day three, I can't protect you from the board."
"I'm not asking for protection," Zhong Ming replied. "Just the server space."
"You have it," she said, walking away. "Don't let the pixels fool you, Zhong Ming. The sharks are still in the water."
Zhong Ming watched her go. He knew she was right. The real battle wasn't the internal presentation. It was the players. The millions of people out there starving for something new.
He felt his bracelet vibrate.
**[Mission Complete: Internal Approval.]**
**[Culture Points: +50]**
**[Current Balance: 200 Points]**
**[New Feature Unlocked: Community Sentiment Analysis (Basic).]**
**[Description: Allows the user to view a simplified aggregate of player reviews and sentiment regarding their released games.]**
Zhong Ming stared at the notification. 200 points. He was halfway to the next tier.
He walked back to the basement, where Li Wei, Su Qing, and Chen Hao were waiting by the elevator. They looked like they were holding their breath.
"Well?" Li Wei asked, his voice trembling.
Zhong Ming smiled, a genuine, wide grin that looked out of place on his tired face.
"She wants a build on her personal tablet," Zhong Ming said. "And we launch next week."
The three interns let out a collective shout of joy that echoed through the hallway, startling a passing janitor.
"We did it!" Su Qing cheered, punching the air.
"We're just getting started," Zhong Ming said, looking out the window at the sprawling city lights. "Now, we need to make sure the world is ready for us."
He had his team. He had his game. And he had the blueprints for a century of entertainment in his head.
The era of the Simulation was ending. The era of the Game was about to begin.