Li Yada and Tang Yishu both lowered their heads to take notes, not asking any further questions.
If they had a tiny bit of doubt when the Morning Dew Gaming Platform was first established, by this stage, those doubts had completely vanished.
The gaming platform was already taking off, and Mr. Pei would definitely make it soar higher.
As for why this arrangement would make it soar higher…
Who cared? Things would naturally work out when the time came.
No matter how many setbacks this system encountered during implementation, what kind of difficulties it faced, or what misunderstandings it endured, it would ultimately succeed greatly as planned by Mr. Pei.
That being the case, what was there to worry about?
Of course, this system was still very vague at present. How to screen and remove connoisseurs, and how many should be maintained—all these details needed careful consideration and long-term planning.
But for such detailed content, they couldn’t expect Mr. Pei to take on everything personally and handle every matter himself.
This was the task for Tang Yishu and Li Yada.
Seeing that the two hadn’t raised any questions, Pei Qian couldn’t help but feel complex emotions.
Every time he proposed a new idea, Pei Qian’s attitude was always conflicted.
If subordinates raised questions, he would worry that they weren’t fully grasping the spirit, and he would have to use his great persuasion skills to deepen their misunderstandings.
If subordinates didn’t raise questions, Pei Qian feared they had already misunderstood on the spot, and after some mental supplementation, they would deviate even further from his original intentions.
In short, he felt uneasy either way!
But on second thought, the Morning Dew Gaming Platform was already in shambles from the start, so there wasn’t so much pressure at this point.
At worst, it would just be taking the final step prematurely, drinking poison to quench thirst!
After all, it wouldn’t be the first time he had done something like this.
Pei Qian looked at the time; it was almost time to get off work, so he finished his coffee and stood up.
“Good, then arrange the gaming platform matters this way for now. Once you’ve finalized this connoisseur system, report to me promptly.”
“It’s the weekend, time to go home after work!”
…
Meanwhile, Yan Qi had finished downloading the updated content for “Eternal Cycle.”
With a very hopeful mindset, he entered the game.
As the producer of “Empire’s Blade,” an action mobile game, Yan Qi was also a faithful fan of action games.
Although his psychological resilience wasn’t particularly strong, and the frequent suffering in “Turn Back to Shore” often made him rage impotently, the unique combat mechanics, the excitement of defeating powerful enemies, the level design full of conspiracy, the concept design that broke the fourth wall… all these elements made him both love and hate the game, unable to put it down.
Having already played “Turn Back to Shore” to the point of boredom, this new DLC naturally carried all his expectations.
The officials had already announced that only 25% of the DLC content was updated this time.
Many players thought 25% was too little and not satisfying enough.
But Yan Qi didn’t think so. 25% of game content was enough to play for a long time, and the key was that he could play it in advance!
Getting to play “Eternal Cycle” a month early was a happy thing no matter how you looked at it.
Of course, the premise was that the standard of this DLC was up to par.
If they split the DLC release purely for speed and heat, but lowered the player’s gaming experience, then Yan Qi would definitely not approve.
He entered the game.
Yan Qi had expected to directly enter the title screen, but unexpectedly, there was a blackout, and a new cutscene played.
…
In a silent temple, blood-red maple leaves gently floated down.
A soothing, melodious tune began to play.
“Turn Back to Shore” also had a similar melody at the beginning, but that melody, despite being melodious and graceful, carried a unique desolate atmosphere. This melody, however, was calm and serene, with a hint of Zen contemplation.
If one listened carefully, it felt as if the blood dormant at the bottom of one’s heart was slowly awakening, with a subtle tone of conquest.
This seemed to suggest that the tone of “Turn Back to Shore” and “Eternal Cycle” had significant differences.
With a “pah” sound, a black stone was placed on the Go board.
The one holding the black stone had hands covered with calluses, weathered by the elements, yet filled with powerful strength and confidence.
Once the black stone was placed, a trembling, thin, withered hand, full of wrinkles, extended from the other side of the board.
The white stone was placed, and the thin, withered right hand withdrew, with a glimpse of monk’s robes.
On the Go board, a large group of black stones was surrounded by white stones, almost trapped in a situation of certain death.
An aged voice sounded.
“I have long heard of the benefactor’s name.”
The scene changed, showing the silhouette of a young swordsman.
In the sunset, his shadow stretched long, with his sword hidden in its sheath.
Alone, yet seemingly containing an extremely terrifying sharpness.
Around the frame, countless blades were drawn, and fierce-looking martial artists surrounded him.
But the next second, the young swordsman lightly flicked his sword, and the fresh blood on it gathered into droplets and fell.
He sheathed his sword, stepped over the bodies on the ground, and walked toward the sunset.
The bodies of the martial artists lay in disarray, their faces still bearing expressions of terror and disbelief.
“At seventeen, the benefactor wielded a sword in the jianghu, with heroic spirit and chivalry, able to slay villains.”
The scene changed to a magnificent palace.
“Assassin! Protect the Emperor!”
The imperial guards held halberds or long sabers, and despite forming neat formations, they still retreated uncontrollably.
A jianghu wanderer who looked to be in his thirties, with a scruffy beard, stepped over the high threshold with steady steps. His hands were empty, but he was covered in blood.
A guard suddenly charged from the side and behind, his long saber chopping down hard, but the next second, the blade somehow ended up in the wanderer’s hand, and a spray of fresh blood shot from the guard’s neck as he collapsed limply.
The guards raised their halberds and stabbed toward the wanderer, but he merely opened his seemingly drowsy eyes, sweeping the long saber in his hand horizontally, immediately cutting the halberds in half.
Stepping over the bodies of the guards, the wanderer approached the emperor who was frantically fleeing. He looked at the already blunt long saber in his hand and casually tossed it aside.
Then, he sidestepped a guard’s halberd, seized it, and with a gentle flick, pinned the emperor to a red-lacquered pillar in the palace.
“At thirty, the benefactor was within arm’s reach, alone against a nation, able to slay corrupt rulers and treacherous ministers.”
The scene changed again to a vast prairie, a battlefield strewn with corpses.
Armored foreign cavalrymen formed battle formations, their horses’ hooves lightly pawing the ground, with the heads of innocent frontier civilians hanging from their saddles.
Opposite the cloud-like battle formation stood a figure in heavy armor, a giant iron mace on his shoulder, and a long horse-chopping blade in his left hand, dragging on the ground.
At the sound of the foreigners’ horns, the cavalry formation charged, their horses’ hooves raising dust like an earthquake or mountain collapse.
The heavily armored figure charged into the enemy formation like a tiger among sheep.
“At forty, the benefactor was fierce and powerful, unstoppable, able to slay thousands of troops.”
The scene changed again, finally arriving at a tavern in a remote small town.
A bowl of turbid wine reflected grizzled white hair.
A swordsman wearing a bamboo hat and holding a Seven Stars Precious Sword came to challenge, his long sword flashing with cold light, pointing directly at the old man’s throat.
However, the next second, two fingers pinched a chopstick to meet the edge of the sword.
A metallic clanging sound rang out, and the Seven Stars Precious Sword broke inch by inch, becoming a pile of scrap metal.
“At sixty, the benefactor could pluck leaves and make flowers fly, his martial skills transcendent, able to slay all things in the world.”
At this point, the aged voice paused slightly.
Another chess piece was placed on the board.
“But benefactor, no matter how transcendent the martial skill, it ultimately cannot sever life and death.”
“Birth, aging, sickness, death, the six paths of reincarnation, are destinies that all living beings in the world cannot escape.”
“The benefactor is about to enter the demonic path, why not turn back to shore?”
On one side of the Go board, the withered-looking old monk placed his palms together, patiently persuading.
The elderly martial god remained silent for a moment, then placed another black stone on the Go board.
The black group that was almost completely surrounded unexpectedly broke through the white stones’ heavy blockade, finding life in the midst of death!
“Having never tried to cut through life and death, how can one know it’s impossible?” the martial god asked calmly.
The old monk knew there was no turning back and could only recite softly: “Amitabha.”
The martial god opened his left palm, revealing a black and white pill, with yin and yang intertwined, which he slowly put into his mouth and swallowed.
Then, he took up an ordinary-looking demonic sword that had been placed beside the Go table.
As the sword left its scabbard, blood light spilled in all directions, a sign of great ominence.