A week later, on May 18th, Tuesday.

Shang Yang Games.

The initial version modifications had been completed, but Ye Zhizhou still couldn’t bring himself to submit and update the game.

At the thought that with one command, the fate of Shang Yang Games would be rewritten and sent toward an unknown destination, Ye Zhizhou’s hands trembled slightly.

After the meeting last week, over seven days, all the required changes had been made.

As per Mr. Pei’s instructions, the monetization points in both “The Romantic Taoist” and “Hot-Blooded Battle Song” had been completely stripped away, leaving only a single payment option for each game.

“The Romantic Taoist” was a simulation and nurturing type game where players hardly competed against each other, so it was easier to modify—they only kept the most basic acceleration card as a payment point.

After all, this game might shut down at any moment, and was no longer a work priority.

The focus was on “Hot-Blooded Battle Song.”

After careful consideration, Ye Zhizhou and Wang Xiaobin decided to leave only one payment point for this game: energy potions.

The price for purchasing energy potions would increase incrementally, with a maximum daily spending limit of 100 ingots per person, equivalent to 10 yuan.

To achieve the goal of maintaining only one payment point, Wang Xiaobin practically redesigned the entire numerical system of the game. Other game designers also cooperated with these changes, developing alternative system functions, such as the “Divine Selection System” that Ye Zhizhou had previously proposed.

After the modifications, while the appearance remained the same, the core of the game had been completely transformed.

Wang Xiaobin sat down beside Ye Zhizhou and asked, “Any other issues?”

Ye Zhizhou shook his head. “No issues, it’s just… I’m not entirely confident.”

“The changes are too drastic, and there’s no successful precedent from other games to reference. It’s completely a spur-of-the-moment idea I came up with…”

“I have no idea what the consequences will be. I’m completely uncertain.”

Previously at Shang Yang Games, whenever they had meetings and a designer proposed a new idea, Old Liu would always ask, “Is there any successful experience from other games?”

If not, the idea would most likely be rejected.

Ye Zhizhou had more or less become accustomed to this way of thinking, which was why he felt uncertain now.

“Brother Wang, with your rich experience, do you think this can succeed?”

Wang Xiaobin sighed softly and said with gravity, “Little Ye, you’re the lead designer now. You need to make these decisions yourself. You can’t keep asking others.”

“Whether this succeeds or fails, the honor is yours, and so is the responsibility. As the lead designer, you have to shoulder these burdens.”

“Do you remember ‘Game Producer’? Others’ opinions are like the narrations in the game—aside from distracting you, they don’t serve much purpose.”

Ye Zhizhou nodded and sighed softly, “Indeed.”

Ye Zhizhou had completed “Game Producer” several times and could recite many of the choices and endings by heart.

In the game, he could completely ignore the narration and choose all the correct answers.

But in reality, although he understood many principles, he still couldn’t achieve that level of confidence and ease.

Wang Xiaobin stood up and added, “It’s normal to feel confused. Just remember, you’re completing the task Mr. Pei assigned to you.”

Ye Zhizhou’s eyes lit up.

That’s right! Regardless of everything else, this was a task assigned by Mr. Pei!

Whether it succeeded or failed, wouldn’t it be fine as long as he followed Mr. Pei’s instructions?

With this realization, Ye Zhizhou hesitated no more. After a final check of the new version, he sent a message to the group.

“Let’s update the version.”

…

Several hours later.

“Hot-Blooded Battle Song” had turned into a large-scale multiplayer online chat room.

Large groups of players gathered in the main city’s grand plaza across all servers, discussing the newly released update announcement.

Since its initial launch until now, “Hot-Blooded Battle Song” has undergone dozens of version iterations. Before each update, an announcement would be released, but none had ever sparked such intense discussion as this one.

Players stopped fighting and leveling up; everyone was discussing the new version.

“Can someone explain what the announcement means? From now on, the mall will only keep the most basic energy potion? Everything else… won’t be sold anymore?”

“They say everything else will be given away for free.”

“Given away for FREE??? Is the game shutting down? Is this the final celebration?”

“When that 888 knife came out last time, so many people quit. I guess it’s only a matter of time before it closes. Well, enjoy it while we can.”

“This doesn’t seem right. Shouldn’t they be trying to make one last big profit before shutting down? Giving away all the good stuff for free? What kind of move is this? Have they lost their minds, trying to drive away wealthy players first?”

“You can still spend money if you want. Energy potions can be bought repeatedly, with a daily limit of 10, and they get more expensive with each purchase. If you buy the maximum each day, you can still spend 100 ingots.”

“Come on, 100 ingots is just 10 yuan! That’s nothing, not just for wealthy players, but even for someone like me with modest financial means.”

“I don’t understand the officials’ bold move this time.”

“Our guild leader has already gone to recharge. He said he wants to hurry and buy all available items before the update, otherwise, once they’re discontinued, he won’t be able to buy them!”

“Too late, it’s already updated. All recharge entry points are closed.”

“…Even if we want to spend money, we can’t. Impressive!”

“This game reminds me of ‘Ghost General.'”

“I have a question: at this rate, if they open a new server, would everyone start from zero? Spend ten yuan a day and reach the combat power cap?”

“According to the announcement, yes.”

“But wait, how would nation wars work then? If everyone has identical combat power, it would just be about which side has more people, right?”

“No, it seems they’ve implemented a ‘Divine Selection System’ that dynamically balances both sides’ strength based on the number of players, and will randomly select players to act as high-level fighters.”

“So if I get selected, I could experience the thrill of defeating ten opponents at once in nation wars???”

“What’s the point of playing on old servers then? Selling account! Selling cheap! I’m going to the new server!”

From the moment the system announcement was released until after the version update, players’ discussions never ceased.

The once lifeless official forum suddenly erupted with a flood of new posts, with discussions in full swing!

Ye Zhizhou knew that players would certainly not understand the new version changes quickly, and such large-scale discussions were normal.

Discussion was a good thing; what would be truly concerning was if players remained indifferent after the update—that would indicate real trouble.

Ye Zhizhou created a small alternate account to quietly monitor player reactions.

Surprisingly, people weren’t strongly opposed to the changes.

He had expected wealthy players to be outraged, but after entering the game, he discovered that the dissatisfied comments were quickly buried without generating any response.

Everyone was discussing how this update would affect nation wars, and most were talking about when a new server would open.

“Everyone’s requesting a new server. Is enthusiasm this high?”

Ye Zhizhou looked at Wang Xiaobin: “Brother Wang, should we open a new server to test the waters?”