Chapter 2: With My Sleeping Dragon and Young Phoenix, Great Success Is Within Reach!

You Were Told to Lose Money By Making Games, and You Actually Did It? 

Chapter 2: With My Sleeping Dragon and Young Phoenix, Great Success Is Within Reach!

The goal was simple:

Lose money during the settlement period, then make money afterward.

That was the only way to create a healthy cycle and continuously raise his ceiling.

Which meant that project selection was extremely important.

After all, the environment in this parallel world was vastly different from his previous life.

If he created an original game, borrowed some ideas from his past experiences, and then deliberately added modifications that he believed would make it fail, there was a good chance he would end up following in the footsteps of predecessors like Pei Qian.

Unexpected circumstances would arise.

Someone would stab him in the back.

A guaranteed failure would somehow become a success.

At the same time, because of the system's restrictions, he couldn't directly copy failed projects from his previous life.

So rather than choosing a product that looked likely to fail but had an uncertain future, it was better to choose something that had already proven successful.

That way, he could understand from the start about why it succeeded, why it made money, and how successful it actually was.

Only after understanding why it was profitable and what its profit ceiling was could he figure out how to lose money effectively while still making money in the long run.

After all, if his sole objective was losing money, the total size of his future funding pool would never increase.

For the sake of the future, he couldn't afford to lose money recklessly and without growth.

Thus, Chen Xu ultimately selected a game.

Sekiro: Shadows Die Twice.

The choice of Sekiro was not made lightly.

First of all, indie games and low-budget projects were immediately ruled out.

Small investment, huge returns?

He'd have to be out of his mind to choose those.

Sekiro was different.

Let's start with its success.

Although it wasn't quite a once-in-a-generation phenomenon, it was undeniably a major hit.

Its first-month sales surpassed those of Dark Souls III, and it even won the Game of the Year award at the The Game Awards 2019.

But success had to be viewed in context.

In his previous life, players had already experienced Demon's Souls, the Dark Souls trilogy, Bloodborne, and numerous excellent Souls-like games

At the same time, livestreaming platforms had become mainstream.

The Souls genre had long since expanded beyond its niche origins.

Many players might never have actually played a Souls game, but they had at least heard of them.

Sekiro further expanded that audience.

And later, Elden Ring would build upon that foundation, using its open-world design and lower barrier to entry to completely push the Souls genre into the mainstream.

But none of that existed in this parallel world.

No matter how excellent Sekiro was, from a gameplay perspective, it remained a niche product.

Moreover, it was brutally difficult.

In fact, it could arguably be considered the hardest Souls-style game ever produced by FromSoftware.

Perhaps players would eventually discover its charm.

Perhaps it would enjoy tremendous long-term momentum.

But its early sales?

Those were almost certainly going to be disappointing.

One reason was the history of gaming itself.

Perhaps because the technological tree had advanced a little faster in this world, the defining characteristics of arcades and early home consoles had never truly formed.

And one of those characteristics—though not the most obvious—was difficulty.

Ask modern gamers from Chen Xu's previous life what the hardest games were, and many would immediately mention Souls games.

But ask older gamers who had lived through the arcade and NES eras?

Souls games wouldn't necessarily rank at the top.

The reason was simple.

Back in the arcade era, greedy arcade owners wanted players to keep buying credits.

As a result, arcade games were often set to absurd difficulty levels.

Meanwhile, early home-console games had limited content but high retail prices.

Developers couldn't easily increase playtime through additional content, so they increased difficulty instead.

That made games feel larger than they actually were.

Players in this parallel world had never experienced that sort of merciless trial by fire.

So how many of them would be willing to embrace the brutal difficulty and relentless punishment of Sekiro right away?

Chen Xu thought that question deserved a giant question mark.

A normal game-company executive would never choose such a risky project.

The risks appeared far greater than the rewards.

But for Chen Xu?

That was exactly what he wanted.

If you wanted to make money, you first had to lose money.

And if you wanted to lose even more money later, you needed to make even more money afterward.

Wasn't the Souls genre perfectly suited for that?

Just like Demon's Souls back in the day.

When it first launched, it was merely a beloved niche title.

Sales were terrible.

The company practically bled money.

Then, as more players discovered its appeal and word-of-mouth improved, sales exploded and the game eventually became profitable.

Wasn't that exactly the trajectory he wanted?

A weak launch.

Losses during settlement.

Then long-term profits afterward.

Perfect.

The more Chen Xu thought about it, the more impressed he became with himself.

Coming up with such a brilliant plan hadn't been easy.

After internally praising himself for a while, he turned his attention to the next problem.

"Still, the most important thing right now is building a team."

Setting those thoughts aside, Chen Xu stood up and stretched.

The direction of the game had been decided.

But making a game was never as simple as merely deciding what game to make.

In this parallel world, AI had already been integrated into software development.

Game developers could use AI tools to assist with coding, significantly reducing development time.

However, the results were nowhere near as absurdly overpowered as those described in web novels from Chen Xu's previous life, where a handful of people could supposedly produce a AAA masterpiece.

After all, it was not true artificial intelligence.

Even with the system's assistance, Chen Xu could theoretically handle most of the work himself:

Story writingLevel designGame balancingArt directionSound design

And more.

But human effort had limits.

Unless he planned on transcending humanity altogether, there was no way he could do everything alone.

He needed people.

People who could help execute his plans and carry out his orders.

As for whether the system's one hundred million yuan was enough to fund development?

More than enough.

Based on what he had learned in university, a game on Sekiro's scale wouldn't even require that much.

In fact, one hundred million yuan was probably excessive.

At some point, he might even need to find additional ways to spend money.

Otherwise, he would eventually face two unpleasant possibilities:

1, The money couldn't be spent at all

2, It would end up being dumped into marketing.

The first outcome would be disastrous for his money-losing strategy.

The second could create a huge unexpected success.

So during development, he'd have to spend aggressively.

Very aggressively.

Still, that was a problem for after the team was assembled.

His first task remained the same:

Recruiting talent.

This was the first obstacle on the path toward his grand empire of losing money and making money.

Chen Xu sighed.

Just as he was lamenting how difficult it was to find capable generals, the dormitory door suddenly opened.

The conversation between his two roommates interrupted his thoughts.

"Old Xiu, how did your interview with Goose Group go?"

"How else could it go? I can get in, sure, but not as a designer. They want me as a cog in the production pipeline. Guess they think I don't have enough experience. What about you, Old Xiao?"

"Can't say it's identical, but it's exactly the same."

Wait.

Weren't these the talented generals he needed?

Chen Xu's eyes lit up as he looked at the two roommates who had just walked in.

One was named Xiao Dao, the other was Xiu Fu.

Like him, they were students in the Game Development program.

And because they had shared a dormitory for years, Chen Xu knew exactly how capable they were.

One specialized in programming and game balancing, the other specialized in programming, narrative expansion, and design.

Together, they were practically a pair of Sleeping Dragon and Young Phoenix.

And not in the sarcastic sense, rather, in the complimentary sense.

During university, each of them had independently developed game demos that received considerable praise on online forums.

They had even won prizes in the university's Outstanding Game Design Competition.

The excellence of these two could hardly be overstated.

In a typical "lose-money-to-get-rich" novel, they were exactly the kind of talented people the protagonist would avoid at all costs.

But Chen Xu was different.

As a man determined to extract every last coin from the system, how could he possibly let such talents escape?

After all, traps were only frightening because they were unknown.

But if the trap was right in front of him, fully visible and completely understood, what was there to fear?

If he could recruit these two under his banner, his grand ambitions would surely succeed.

The more he thought about it, the more reasonable it sounded.

"Ahem..."

Walking over to them, Chen Xu cleared his throat.

"Running out of resources again? What genre are you looking for?"

"I sent the Telegram group link already. Search the keywords yourself and don't be shy."

Xiu Fu and Xiao Dao looked at Chen Xu blankly for a moment.

Then understanding dawned.

Both immediately revealed the knowing smiles shared by men everywhere.

"I'm not asking for those resources!"

Chen Xu was instantly speechless.

Though he quietly made a mental note to save them for later.

Then he adopted a serious expression.

"Brothers, your campus recruitment didn't go well, right?"

"Obviously. Any decent position requires three years of industry experience. Which genius came up with the idea of demanding work experience from fresh graduates?"

"Exactly. Most openings are just art or programming positions—basically assembly-line work. If I'm going to do that, I'd rather try making indie games myself."

Thinking about their recruitment experiences, both men couldn't help venting their frustrations.

Chen Xu nodded.

Then he went straight for the kill.

"Then how about joining me?"

"Have you forgotten the promise we made the first night we moved into this dorm?"

"To create a top-tier AAA game together!"

"To be honest, I'll stop hiding it."

"I'm actually a rich second-generation heir."

"My family recently gave me a startup fund, and I'm preparing to make a big move."

Chen Xu cleared his throat dramatically.

After all, throughout university he had never really talked about his family's finances.

His lifestyle wasn't extravagant, but he certainly hadn't deprived himself either.

And the system's money was completely legitimate and traceable.

So the excuse wasn't entirely unbelievable.

At least, that's what he thought.

"Pfft—HAHAHAHA!"

"Sorry, Brother Xu. I couldn't hold it in."

"Brother Xu, how long has this condition been going on?"

"Honestly, when I'm lying in bed at night, I have the same fantasy sometimes."

The two burst into laughter immediately.

Clearly, neither of them believed a single word he had said.

Xiu Fu and Xiao Dao couldn't help laughing.

And they laughed quite loudly.

Chen Xu merely smiled without saying a word.

After a second or two, they noticed that he didn't seem to be joking at all. Their laughter gradually died down, replaced by strange expressions.

"Brother Xu... you're not messing with us, are you?" Xiao Dao asked cautiously.

Faced with their half-believing, half-doubting looks, Chen Xu pulled out his phone and opened the China Construction Bank app.

The number displayed on the screen had a length they had never seen before.

In that instant, both men froze.

Even Chen Xu, who had mentally prepared himself, felt his heart racing a little faster.

After all, this was one hundred million yuan.

Even among people who claimed to have net worths of several hundred million yuan, how many could casually pull out that much liquid cash?

And when he thought about how, 160 days later, he would be able to squeeze another huge payout out of the system, he became even more excited.

Xiao Dao swallowed hard.

Then, without hesitation, he changed his attitude completely.

"I, Dao, have wandered half my life, regretting only that I never met a worthy lord. If you do not disdain me, I am willing to acknowledge you as my godfather!"

He cupped his hands respectfully.

Seeing his line stolen, Xiu Fu frantically searched through the classic Romance of the Three Kingdoms quotes in his mind.

Finally, he found one that fit.

"Me too!"

"With these two generals assisting me, my great enterprise is destined for success!" Chen Xu played along with the joke before continuing.

Then his expression became more serious.

"Jokes aside, are you two willing to join me?"

"But let me be clear first. If you come with me, the treatment at the beginning might not be as good as you're imagining. You'll probably have to start from the ground floor."

Chen Xu wanted to set expectations early.

The project had to remain firmly under his control.

He absolutely could not allow employees to exercise too much creative freedom.

Otherwise, there was no telling what bizarre miracles they might create.

This was a lesson written in blood and tears by countless protagonists of "lose-money-to-get-rich" stories.

"Of course we'd follow you, Brother Xu!" Xiu Fu answered immediately.

"Exactly," Xiao Dao nodded as if it were the most natural thing in the world.

"Even if you wanted us to manage people right away, we'd be worried about screwing it up ourselves."

They had complete confidence in their talent and potential.

But confidence wasn't the same thing as arrogance.

At their current stage, they honestly didn't believe they had enough experience to lead an entire development team.

More importantly, the bank balance they had just seen demonstrated Chen Xu's strength better than any words could.

And if they followed him, they were convinced they wouldn't have to deal with the factional politics and corporate infighting found in large companies.

If you were capable, you'd have opportunities, simple as that.

"So, Brother Xu, when do we start?"

"Should we post recruitment ads online?"

"Or coordinate with the university and get some campus recruitment slots?"

The two rubbed their hands together eagerly.

They could hardly wait.

Chen Xu waved his hand dismissively.

"Why make things so complicated?"

"We'll just acquire a small game company that has talent but can't survive financially."

"Problem solved."

The room fell silent.

This… was this how rich people thought?

Xiao Dao and Xiu Fu's eyes widened simultaneously.

They could only marvel in admiration.

Their horizons had simply been too narrow.

A real rich guy had money and actually knew how to spend it.

Watching the two men stunned by the power of wealth, Chen Xu maintained the expression of someone who had everything under control.

Why recruit fresh graduates?

What if he accidentally hired some hidden genius?

Wouldn't that be asking for trouble?

Besides, campus recruits were cheap.

How was he supposed to increase labor costs that way?

And if he hired a brand-new team, he'd have to build everything from scratch and spend months helping them get used to working together before development could truly begin.

What if the project got delayed?

What if the settlement deadline got pushed back?

How much money would that cost him?

More importantly, he wasn't actually trying to make a bad game.

That was never the goal.

Acquiring a struggling game studio, on the other hand, offered multiple advantages.

First, it immediately increased project expenses.

Second, it allowed him to focus directly on development instead of team-building.

The only thing he needed to watch out for was this:

During the acquisition process, he absolutely could not fall into one of the system's traps.

After all, based on the system's behavior so far, Chen Xu was convinced of one thing.

Whenever something looked too easy, there was usually a giant pit waiting underneath it.