Sun Xi nodded: “I see, understood.”
“But I still have one question about the pricing of skins.”
“As you said, Boss Pei, we can use skin-based monetization, but why not set the prices higher? ‘Bullet Hole 2’ doesn’t compete with GOG, so there’s nothing strange about different game types having different skin prices.”
“FPS games like ‘Bullet Hole 2’ naturally have fewer players, so with low skin prices, profits would be low too. If sales don’t take off, wouldn’t we fall into a vicious cycle?”
“I think it would be better to set skin prices higher initially. If the profit situation looks promising, we can gradually offer discounts and lower prices, which would still stimulate consumption while being more secure.”
Pei Qian: “…”
Well, people outside Tenda were indeed harder to fool.
Although the people in Tenda’s gaming department were also professionally competent, they generally trusted Boss Pei too much. So many times, even if they had doubts, they wouldn’t ask too many questions and would instead try to figure things out themselves.
The people at Tianhua Studio were obviously much more incisive with their questions.
But this small problem was clearly not enough to stump Pei Qian.
If he could fool Old Master He An, a veteran in the gaming industry, dealing with a few youngsters would be a piece of cake.
After considering briefly, Pei Qian said: “I think this is a chicken-or-egg question.”
“Players say: ‘If you sell skins cheaper, I’ll buy more.'”
“Game companies say: ‘If you buy more first, then I’ll discount the skins.'”
“Nobody wants to give in first, so it becomes a deadlock.”
“Let’s say we do as you suggest—sell at high prices first, then gradually offer discounts. Let me ask you: if the skins sell well at high prices, would you really be willing to offer substantial discounts later? Would you offer 50% off, 70% off, or even more? Probably at most 20% or 30% off just to put on a show.”
“And if the skins don’t sell well and you then offer discounts, wouldn’t that make it seem like the skin prices were artificially inflated, causing players to gloat and be even less likely to purchase?”
“So your idea sounds optimistic and nice, but it’s not very practical in reality.”
“Some things, if not done from the beginning, become unimaginably difficult to implement midway.”
“As for the issue of the game’s player base…”
“This is also a chicken-or-egg problem.”
“If a game doesn’t attract players enough, then naturally there will be fewer players; with fewer players, the game earns less income, there’s no money for subsequent updates, and the game becomes even less attractive to players.”
“Over time, this becomes a vicious cycle.”
“So it’s all or nothing. If we’re going to do it, we should do it the best we can. Push prices down from the beginning, make players feel guilty for not spending money, make them feel that not buying such cheap skins would be inhuman—that’s how to create a virtuous cycle!”
Pei Qian’s expression was extremely serious, overwhelming everyone with his conviction.
Sun Xi nodded, having nothing more to say.
Boss Pei meant that although there weren’t many players now, as long as “Bullet Hole 2” was made excellent enough and generous enough, players would eventually increase.
This was about something that would happen in the future, which no one could predict accurately, so no one could refute it.
Otherwise, wouldn’t that be undermining their own project?
The game hadn’t even been released yet—considering what to do if no players came seemed too defeatist.
So on this matter, the discussion came to an end.
Zhou Muyan cleared his throat: “Well, I guess we’ve settled on the monetization model.”
“But I think Longyu Group might have quite a few objections to this monetization approach…”
Cheap skin pricing was obviously not conducive to making money for Longyu Group.
Tianhua Studio was the development company, while Longyu Group was the operations company, and this aspect was obviously more important to the operations company.
Pei Qian chuckled: “Why care so much about what they think? Setting game prices is not something the operations company should do. It’s like asking a cat if it wants to eat fish—there’s only going to be one answer.”
The goal of an operations company, to put it nicely, is “to operate the game better,” but to put it bluntly, it’s “to make more money.”
These two statements might look the same on the surface, but in actual operation, they often diverge significantly, getting closer to the latter and further from the former.
Zhou Muyan nodded, silently giving Boss Pei a thumbs up.
Indeed, an incredible game producer like Boss Pei could completely disregard the operations company’s opinions.
Besides, Boss Pei himself had unparalleled skill in operations, so why bother considering what Longyu Group thought? GOG had beaten IOI to a pulp, which was proof enough.
“Alright, so the monetization issue is resolved. Now we’re just left with the art style.”
“What kind of art style do you think would be appropriate, Boss Pei?”
Pei Qian smiled slightly: “Let’s hear everyone’s opinions first.”
Zhou Muyan looked at Sun Xi again.
After pondering for a moment, Sun Xi said: “The success of ‘Sea Fortress’ lies in the relatively exaggerated and cool appearance of epic weapons like Fiery Qilin and Barrett. This shows that while most players claim they want realism, they actually love it when special effects are added.”
“I think we should also work in this direction, making things more exaggerated and flashier.”
The designers, including Zhou Muyan, all nodded in agreement.
This was something they had analyzed when summarizing the failure of “Bullet Hole”—it could be said to be a consensus within Tianhua Studio.
However, at this moment, a voice softly said: “Is that so? I think weapons should be more low-key, simple, and realistic. There’s nothing wrong with that.”
Everyone turned their heads in unison and discovered that it was actually Boss Pei who had spoken.
The meeting room fell into silence.
It felt… like the roles had been reversed?
Shouldn’t Tenda be madly recounting the successful experiences of “Sea Fortress,” while Tianhua Studio insisted on sticking to their own approach?
How did it get flipped around?
Now Tianhua Studio was eager to follow “Sea Fortress'” successful experience, while Boss Pei kept rejecting it.
This was absurd!
Sun Xi tentatively asked: “Boss Pei, are you saying that we plan to make money by selling skins, but the gun skins should be low-key, simple, and realistic…?”
Pei Qian nodded: “What’s wrong with that? I think being low-key, simple, and realistic doesn’t conflict with being good-looking and unique.”
Everyone fell into silence again.
Well, now he’s managed to say both the straight and the opposite version!
Boss Pei’s statement reminded everyone of those unscrupulous clients who would demand “colorful black” and “brilliantly colorful white,” giving self-contradictory requirements. No matter what the final product looked like, they could always find fault with the contractor.
Zhou Muyan sighed: “Boss Pei, you’re really taking advantage of having Master Ruan…”
“Could we borrow Master Ruan for a couple of days? I think only he could handle this kind of requirement.”
Have Ruan Guangjian do the artwork?
That wouldn’t work!
Pei Qian immediately shook his head: “Ruan Guangjian might be too busy. Tenda has already assigned him quite a few projects.”
“Besides, doesn’t Tianhua Studio have its own concept artists and 3D modelers? There’s no need to look far away when help is near. I think your artists are quite capable.”
Zhou Muyan was somewhat helpless: “But they’re only good at following specific assignments!”
Most of Tianhua Studio’s artists were used to creating strictly according to the designers’ requirements, having grown accustomed to this work model.
Asking them to take a broad concept and express themselves freely?
That would be too difficult for them.
Ruan Guangjian had been designing independently from the beginning and had been working with Tenda for so long that his mastery of art style control was not something ordinary artists could match.
Pei Qian smiled slightly: “There’s a first time for everything.”
“I think Tianhua Studio’s artists are all quite talented, and since you’ve been working together for so long, they’re trustworthy. Letting them try freely might produce some surprisingly good results.”
Zhou Muyan and the designers looked at each other, all seeing similar expressions on each other’s faces.
Boss Pei, do you think everyone is like Master Ruan?
We really can’t trust the level of our company’s artists!
Even when the requirements are very clear, there’s still plenty of argument. If we let them design freely, wouldn’t that lead to endless disputes?
But they couldn’t say this directly, or else the art director would be furious if word got out.
If the art team collectively protested against them, they really couldn’t handle it.
So everyone looked at each other, and no one said a word.
This was exactly what Pei Qian wanted.
Since you don’t have any more questions, I can leave now!
He looked at Min Jingchao: “Well, do you have a general idea now?”
Pei Qian didn’t want to say too much, as the more he spoke, the more likely he was to make mistakes.
What if, as he continued talking, he contradicted himself? What then?
So, as long as Min Jingchao said things were more or less clear, he would leave immediately.
Min Jingchao looked at the contents of his notebook, recalled the “Boss Pei’s Intention Analysis Method” and Hu Xianbin’s previous design experiences, and said: “Hmm… I do have some preliminary ideas.”
Hearing this, Pei Qian immediately stood up: “Great, then we’re all set!”
“Everyone can dismiss for now. Wait until Min Jingchao comes up with a general plan in a couple of days, and then I’ll assign tasks to you.”
“Director Zhou, you can take your time deciding on the lead designer for the ‘Bullet Hole 2’ project. If you can’t make up your mind, you can discuss it with Min Jingchao.”
Zhou Muyan was stunned. This series of statements left him genuinely confused.
What? The meeting is over just like that?
Nothing concrete had been decided yet!
After all this discussion, they only knew that the game’s feel would be similar to “Bullet Hole,” the monetization would be through skin sales, and the art style would be “simple, realistic yet unique”…
They hadn’t even determined the game’s basic prototype.
As for the lead designer who would assist Min Jingchao, they had absolutely no clue.
Zhou Muyan had originally wanted all these designers to listen in, provide some input during the meeting, and see who had more confidence in the project and whose background was more suitable, then assign that person to do it.
But now, these designers were just as lost as he was, having listened to the meeting for nothing.
They hadn’t even found an opportunity to speak before the meeting was over.
These people were definitely all bewildered, having no idea how to approach this project, and asking would be pointless.
Everyone looked at Min Jingchao in unison.
The message was clear: It’s fine if we didn’t understand, but if you didn’t understand either, hurry up and stop Boss Pei from leaving!
After all, you’re the lead designer, and you’ll be the one developing this game.
However, Min Jingchao nodded: “Yes, Boss Pei, I also think that’s about right.”
“…” Everyone fell into silence simultaneously.
This superior-subordinate relationship was truly something else.
One actually dared to assign such a task, and the other actually dared to accept it!
Wasn’t this too rushed?