Chapter 10: Who Could Possibly Resist a Cute-Girl Match-3 Game?

Game Development: Starting by Healing the Players 

Chapter 10: Who Could Possibly Resist a Cute-Girl Match-3 Game?

"Phew~ That's unexpected!"

Inside his rented apartment, Chen Xu stared at the sales statistics on the official platform's backend, looking somewhat surprised.

The growth in sales had far exceeded his expectations.

On the first day, the game sold 162 copies—a figure that was neither particularly high nor particularly low.

On the second day, however, sales skyrocketed by nearly four times, reaching a total of 610 copies.

The primary reason was simple: his marketing campaign.

With a budget of only 20,000 yuan, conventional advertising was out of the question.

Partly because the budget was too small, and partly because the game itself was... rather unique.

So Chen Xu set his sights overseas, on a forum frequented by gentlemen of refined tastes.

After all, what he needed most was exposure.

As for the method, he went with an old-school approach: an elite astroturfing campaign.

He never considered flooding the forum with masses of fake accounts.

That wouldn't have produced good results and might even have backfired.

Instead, Chen Xu chose a more targeted strategy.

He bought aged, reputable forum accounts and used them to post detailed review threads.

Afterward, hired posters from other platforms would help bump those threads, keeping them visible.

Of course, the most critical factor was that the game itself had to be genuinely good.

Otherwise, this kind of marketing would have been less effective than a simple spam campaign.

The key to success was turning the players who discovered the game into genuine supporters—people who would voluntarily recommend it to their friends and fellow enthusiasts.

As a former professional game designer and, at the same time, an honest, ordinary gamer, Chen Xu understood one simple truth.

What interested players?

The answer was surprisingly straightforward.

Most players enjoyed doing one thing:

In ordinary games, they liked getting up to risqué antics.

In risqué games, they liked doing perfectly ordinary things.

That sense of contrast was irresistible.

It was much like the joke often shared online:

"A man's two greatest hobbies are dragging respectable women into the underworld, and persuading women of the underworld to become respectable."

Gamers were much the same.

There would always be players who delighted in doing the most unexpected things in games.

Of course, that gimmick alone could never make a game successful.

In the end, quality was what truly mattered.

But if that unique appeal could entice players to give the game a try in the first place, then it had already done its job.

Judging from Mirror's sales figures, the marketing strategy had been an undeniable success.

After all, choosing Mirror wasn't a spur-of-the-moment decision.

Chen Xu had thought it through carefully.

He had researched the performance of competing games in the genre, compared the preferences of enthusiasts in this world with those from his previous life, evaluated the available distribution platforms, and assessed the feasibility of promoting the game.

He had investigated every aspect in advance.

Everything had been calculated.

Under those circumstances, Mirror's success was entirely within Chen Xu's expectations.

The only thing he hadn't anticipated was that the enthusiasts' enthusiasm would far exceed what he had imagined.

The 610 copies sold on the second day, he believed, were only the beginning.

As time went on, word of mouth among players would steadily drive Mirror's sales even higher.

"Hmm... At this rate, I'll be able to pay off what I owe the payment app by next week."

"Thankfully, the overseas official platform settles payments in real time. As long as players are past the refund period, the money is transferred directly."

"But just like in my previous life, these third-party platforms really take a painful cut..."

Thinking of that, Chen Xu couldn't help smacking his lips.

The official game platform took a 30% commission, which mainly went toward platform maintenance, game engine upgrades, and research into new technologies.

Third-party platforms, however, were far more ruthless.

Especially on the mobile side, where a 50% revenue share was the norm.

Some were even worse, demanding a 70/30 split.

Of course, in that case, the developer got the 30%, while the platform pocketed the 70%.

It was every bit as bad as Tencent and the major mobile app stores back in his previous life.

That said, there was one undeniable advantage.

Those third-party platforms had enormous user bases.

Combined with the fact that the official platform offered relatively few recommendations and had an unimpressive recommendation algorithm, many studios and developers still found it worthwhile despite the steep revenue share.

They could still make money.

The only problem was that developers were left sipping the soup while the platforms devoured all the meat.

For the current Chen Xu, however, those platforms were only something he had briefly looked into.

They simply weren't relevant to him right now.

It wasn't that he thought their revenue split was too unfair and refused to publish there...

In reality, if he really did release it on those platforms, it would allow him to accumulate capital much more quickly in the early stages.

The main reason he hadn't was that Mirror was a bit... unusual. Even if it were listed on domestic third-party platforms, it was unlikely to receive any featured placement or promotional support.

Of course, that only applied to domestic platforms. Overseas platforms were far less restrictive.

But since the official platform was already available, there was little reason to bother with third-party channels.

After all, those domestic platform operators had very little influence overseas.

Their primary market was still within China.

...

From the afternoon until late into the evening, Chen Xu kept a close eye on the game's sales figures.

This period happened to be the golden hours for sales.

Every hour, he refreshed the backend statistics, and each time he did, Mirror's sales had climbed even higher.

Earlier, the game had been gaining just over a hundred new sales per hour.

Now, during peak hours, that number has risen to more than two hundred.

It was obvious that through various channels of information, the name Mirror was gradually spreading among enthusiasts.

Every additional sale represented another friendly supporter backing the game.

As player reviews became available, Mirror's user rating was finally displayed.

9.7 out of 10.

An astonishingly high score.

Chen Xu, however, wasn't overly excited.

The main reason was that, as an adults-only game, players tended to be extraordinarily forgiving toward this type of title. Their tolerance for flaws was far higher than with conventional games.

Compared to mainstream games, the rating itself didn't carry as much weight.

It was much like the contrast between ordinary online forums, often filled with arguments, insults, and endless drama, and the forums frequented by these enthusiasts.

On those forums, discussions were remarkably harmonious.

Typical replies were things like, "OP is a good person—may good fortune follow you," or conversations about their viewing experiences and admiration for their favorite performers.

The only thing Mirror's score truly proved was that, in the eyes of its players, it was absolutely worth buying and recommending.

After all, who could possibly resist a cute-girl match-3 game?