Meng Chang’s first impression was that the sense of realism had become stronger!
It felt as if he had truly entered another world, as if he had been transported to a different reality.
Of course, there were still shortcomings, particularly with the resolution.
The resolution of current VR headsets was still rather concerning. Even though the Doubt VR headset had achieved 4K resolution, it still had a noticeable grainy quality.
“Animal Island” had used a special cartoon art style that somewhat compensated for the inadequate resolution, but “Real Estate Agent Simulator” had a realistic style, so there was no workaround.
Technical issues couldn’t be solved in the short term.
This made the VR field quite unique—enthusiasts were extremely passionate about it, while detractors considered it a complete scam with no redeeming qualities.
Those who got motion sickness from 3D, couldn’t accept the screen-door effect of VR headsets, or had high expectations for various operations and details were not the target audience for current VR games and couldn’t appreciate their enjoyment at all.
But beyond these people, there were players who could tolerate these shortcomings. They preferred the immersion and sense of presence that VR games provided, and these players were the main consumers in the VR game market.
The version Meng Chang was playing wasn’t the final complete version of the game, so some scene transitions were still a bit rough, basically following the black screen, loading, jump cut pattern.
Cai Jiadong explained: “We’ve specifically created some transition scenes, but they haven’t been updated to this demo yet.”
“It’s nothing special, just a satellite view. After leaving a location, the camera first rises to a view above the city, shifts to the area of the destination, and then quickly descends, adding some blur effects before arriving at the destination’s entrance.”
“This makes the transitions more natural and also helps players become more familiar with the overall city layout so they know roughly which area their house is in.”
Meng Chang nodded, able to visualize the effect.
This wasn’t a particularly crucial element; experiencing it or not wasn’t a major issue.
Meng Chang now found himself inside a real estate agency office.
The game’s basic operation clearly followed the standard control scheme of “Animal Island,” with movement options including joystick control and teleportation, while interaction with scenery props and items followed the logic of pointing, touching, and grabbing with fingers.
Meng Chang had also heard that Mr. Pei had previously established a complete set of operational standards for VR games through “Animal Island.” “Real Estate Agent Simulator” had evidently adopted these standards, which made things simpler.
Meng Chang looked around. The office space wasn’t large, and its structure was quite simple—just an area resembling a reception desk, a consultation area with a coffee table and two single-person sofas, plus some simple furnishings.
“So the player actually portrays the boss of this small real estate agency?” Meng Chang asked.
Cai Jiadong nodded: “That’s right. At the beginning, we did consider whether to have players start as ordinary employees of a real estate agency and then open their own office in the mid-game.”
“But this plan was rejected after repeated discussions.”
“On one hand, working as a regular employee in an office would inevitably involve numerous interactions with colleagues—mostly non-essential content with a poor investment-to-return ratio. On the other hand, it might also lead to player impatience.”
“We should skip this unnecessary content and let players directly experience the core enjoyment of the gameplay.”
“So we directly set the protagonist as the owner of a small real estate agency. Of course, the conditions are rather basic, requiring players to gradually save money to unlock new decorations for the office and rent new, more spacious offices.”
“The player’s residence and office are two separate systems, and players can focus on either according to their preferences.”
Meng Chang understood. Clearly, “Real Estate Agent Simulator” hadn’t completely realistically simulated real-life real estate agencies but had made some artistic embellishments and processing.
This was also normal—after all, gameplay always required some give and take, and content that didn’t need to be shown was eliminated.
Just like many other simulation games, it only selected the most essential parts for simulation, naturally omitting unimportant content.
The main difference between “Real Estate Agent Simulator” and reality was that the protagonist was the boss of a small real estate agency who could make his own decisions, freely determining the company’s development direction and strategy.
There was a computer on the reception desk, with a high stool—the angle was just right for viewing the computer while standing.
This was obviously designed to accommodate players who experienced the game standing up.
The computer had a touchscreen; files and programs could be opened by directly tapping.
The basic gameplay involved using computer programs to view property listings, accept commissions, connect houses with tenants, visit properties for on-site inspections and understanding conditions, introduce properties to interested tenants when they visited, and then collect commissions upon success.
Online, one could only see basic information like the property’s age and floor plans. Multiple commissions could be accepted simultaneously and initially screened on the computer before proceeding to on-site inspections.
There were no limits on the number of on-site inspections, but since the player’s goal was to quickly complete high-level commissions to increase their level, getting fixated on these low-level properties didn’t make much sense. Careful screening and discrimination were still necessary.
After the on-site inspection came meeting with potential tenants, answering their questions, and other normal procedures.
Meng Chang experienced the game for roughly an hour before removing the VR headset.
“To be honest, I’m not quite understanding where the fun is in this game.”
Meng Chang spoke rather implicitly, not directly saying the game was boring.
Cai Jiadong smiled: “That’s normal. Similar simulation management games are quite selective about their players—they might be extremely fun for some players while others can’t feel any enjoyment.”
“You’re not a simulation management game player, so you might feel less receptive in this area.”
“Also, simulation management games themselves are a relatively slow-burning genre. The early stages can be difficult to get into, but once you start enjoying them, you can play for a very long time.”
“The enjoyment of games varies from person to person; you can’t force it most of the time.”
Meng Chang felt a bit dejected: “But if I can’t feel the enjoyment, how can I create a promotional plan…”
Cai Jiadong: “Oh, you’re right. Don’t worry, you can experience it more, feel it out—perhaps inspiration will suddenly strike.”
“If that doesn’t work, you can also ask some hardcore simulation management game enthusiasts and learn from them.”
As a designer, Cai Jiadong certainly understood, but his perspective was ultimately that of a designer, which had some gaps compared to a player’s perspective. He was concerned Meng Chang still wouldn’t understand even if he explained.
So it would be better to find a player to discuss it with, to understand the enjoyment from a player’s perspective, which would be relatively easier to grasp.
Meng Chang nodded: “Alright, I understand.”
He didn’t personally know players who enjoyed simulation management games, but he knew Qiao Laoshi.
If all else failed, he could ask Qiao Laoshi. After all, as a professional player, Qiao Laoshi could grasp the enjoyment of most games.
Besides, he didn’t really need to truly experience this enjoyment himself—understanding it would be enough.
…
In the afternoon, Meng Chang returned to his workstation and began considering the promotional plan.
He didn’t immediately seek out Qiao Laoshi, mainly because he wanted to first develop a framework on his own. He didn’t want to be overly influenced by Qiao Laoshi’s views, which might cause the plan to veer off course.
In other words, either he wouldn’t use Qiao Laoshi’s input at all, or he would use it as the finishing touch—he couldn’t let Qiao Laoshi’s suggestions affect his original plan.
“Previously, I only summarized the basic ‘rise-fall-rise’ process of the Pei Promotion Method, but I’m not particularly skilled at executing this process.”
“Upon careful analysis, the key actually lies in the middle step.”
“The final ‘rise’ step is easy to handle because Tenda’s products are inherently solid—all that’s needed is to let the product receive its deserved evaluation. The first ‘rise’ step is also relatively easy; you just need to start with a fairly good promotion with some reservations.”
“The key is in the middle ‘fall’ step—how to create controversy without causing genuine trouble for consumers or actual harm to the product, while leaving room for a later reversal. This is the crucial aspect.”
“So, it might be best to start with this step.”
“We know that when Mr. Pei uses the Pei Promotion Method, the ‘fall’ step is always very restrained, always just right, which must be backed by extensive thinking and meticulous preparation.”
“How to create this ‘fall’?”
“Continue using my bad reputation?”
“Not really viable—my bad reputation isn’t as effective anymore…”
Meng Chang realized that his bad reputation was most effective the first time Mr. Pei used it, becoming less effective each subsequent time.
Mainly because after several successful promotional campaigns, many people’s impressions of Meng Chang had somewhat improved.
Though they still disliked him, this dislike was no longer sufficient to have any fatal impact on the product itself.
So his bad reputation wasn’t completely unusable, but its effect had diminished significantly, which was quite saddening.
“Should I leverage someone else’s bad reputation instead?”
“Is there any bad reputation in the real estate agency field? Zhujia Group?”
“Not really suitable—Mr. Pei seems to dislike this company very much.”
Meng Chang had initially thought about riding on Zhujia Group’s bad reputation, but upon reflection, he realized it wasn’t appropriate. Zhujia Group’s philosophy fundamentally conflicted with Mr. Pei’s. Even for a ‘fall’ step, it wasn’t worth tarnishing their own reputation.
Moreover, the ultimate goal of the Pei Promotion Method was to achieve the best promotional effect through controversy and misunderstanding. Collaborating with Zhujia Group might accidentally create a stain that couldn’t be washed clean, which would be a major problem.
Meng Chang abandoned the idea as soon as it occurred to him and turned to consider other approaches.
“Actually, I don’t need to use Zhujia Group’s bad reputation; I just need to leverage people’s preconceptions about the real estate agency industry.”
“Hmm… this is a good entry point, though how to cleverly integrate it with the game itself still needs careful consideration.”
Meng Chang tried hard to put himself in Mr. Pei’s shoes, considering how Mr. Pei would design the promotional plan, while experiencing the game’s detailed content and carefully savoring it.