As for the deluxe package, compared to the advanced package, there was an additional price difference of 3,000 yuan, mainly reflected in the G-force chair.
Obviously, this deluxe package was the choice for players who truly didn’t lack money. To buy this package, first, you had to be able to afford the price of around 10,000 yuan, and second, you needed enough space at home to accommodate this entire set-up with the G-force chair.
Some might wonder why bother with the advanced version—if you’re already spending 7,000, why not spend an extra 3,000 for the G-force chair?
But not everyone thinks this way.
First, going from 7,000 to 10,000 is nearly a 50% budget increase, and not everyone is willing to spend that extra money. Second, while some people like the G-force chair because it can simulate a real driving experience, others don’t like it, feeling that the swaying motion affects their performance.
So these three packages catered to people with different spending capacities.
The entry-level package’s price was actually already quite cheap in the field of driving simulation equipment. If you couldn’t afford the entry-level package, it was really not recommended to purchase any driving simulation equipment—just play racing games with a controller.
Of course, if you didn’t want any of the three packages, you could also purchase additional accessories like the handbrake based on the first two packages. This approach was quite flexible.
And just because you couldn’t afford it didn’t mean you couldn’t experience it. Just like the smart fitness clothes rack, you could always go to public venues to try it out.
Besides that, the monitors included in the three packages were also different.
The entry-level version came with an ordinary ultrawide monitor, the advanced version with a high-end ultrawide monitor, and the deluxe version with custom narrow-bezel triple gaming monitors.
Ye Zhizhou also gave Meng Chang a brief introduction to the different monitors.
These peripherals, including the steering wheel, were designed and produced by Outu Technology through domestic OEMs, but none of the packages included monitors.
This was because monitors had relatively high technological content, and players could simply buy ready-made ones according to their needs, deciding whether to go with an ultrawide screen or a triple-monitor setup.
If Outu Technology included a contracted monitor in the package, it would seem like bundled sales and would be criticized.
As for how different players chose, that was entirely personal preference.
If players wanted the most basic experience, then an entry-level ultrawide screen or an economical triple-screen solution was essential.
For a better experience, they would need a premium ultrawide gaming monitor, which was quite expensive. Major brands offered these super-long ultrawide screens of around 50 inches, priced at about 10,000 yuan.
Of course, players could also choose a triple-monitor solution. The advantage of a triple-monitor setup over an ultrawide screen was the wider field of view—an ultrawide screen was equivalent to two screens, while a triple setup added one more screen’s worth of vision.
And the combined price of three screens was roughly the same as a high-end gaming ultrawide screen. The disadvantage was the presence of bezels, which affected immersion.
Outu Technology didn’t need to develop a specialized monitor themselves, but there were ways to enhance the experience.
Their specific approach was to collaborate with domestic monitor manufacturers to launch a triple-monitor setup with ultra-narrow bezels, complemented by an appropriate optical kit.
This optical kit was actually a special crystal similar to a triangular prism. When placed at the seams between the three monitors, it could make the bezels visually disappear through optical refraction.
However, the use of this optical kit had strict requirements—the angles between the three monitors, the width of the bezels, and so on all had specifications.
Therefore, Outu Technology merely provided this solution in cooperation with monitor manufacturers. As for which specific screen to choose, players could decide according to their preferences. The packages didn’t include bundled monitors.
Meng Chang sat down in the deluxe version’s G-force chair and found it very comfortable. It had excellent wrap-around support like a racing seat, and thoughtfully came with a racing-specific safety belt. After buckling up, it really felt like driving a race car—full of ceremonial feeling.
Then he touched the steering wheel. Without a doubt, this steering wheel was visually impressive and quite handsome.
The deep black direct-drive motor was square and solid. The steering wheel was wrapped in Alcantara leather, which felt great to the touch—neither cold nor slippery—making one unconsciously want to grip it.
The entire steering wheel design was very similar to those in luxury sports cars and race cars.
There were also magnetic paddle shifters (designed to make shifting more crisp and better-sounding), a dashboard display, and various buttons for turn signals, windshield wipers, and more.
Meng Chang had previously rented sports cars to deliver cold noodles and had driven plenty of luxury cars. Objectively speaking, the feel of this steering wheel certainly had gaps compared to luxury cars, but it was already quite excellent.
What caught Meng Chang’s attention was the small display screen, positioned just like a real car’s dashboard.
This effectively moved the game’s UI dashboard to this small screen below, which clearly enhanced the immersive driving experience.
Some might say that looking down at the dashboard while driving is inconvenient, but isn’t it the same when the dashboard is displayed as UI in the lower right corner of the screen? Any glance at the dashboard causes distraction—this is unavoidable. Even in real-life driving, checking the dashboard causes momentary distraction.
It’s impossible to never look at the dashboard; you can only glance at it with your peripheral vision when it’s safe during driving.
Moving the UI from the lower right corner of the screen to a separate display made it larger and clearer, similar to how F1 race cars have a screen on the steering wheel displaying key data. The overall experience was better.
Plus, this avoided having the dashboard obstruct the view on the main screen, making the entire screen look much cleaner and enhancing immersion.
Beside it was a dedicated control panel with various buttons, seemingly designed to simulate additional controls. This made Meng Chang feel a bit like a veteran bus driver.
Meng Chang stepped on the pedals and found the simulation quality to be extremely high.
According to Ye Zhizhou’s introduction, the three different pedals used different designs. The clutch and accelerator pedals used adjustable springs for rebound, while the brake pedal relied on a small pre-loaded spring and large rubber blocks. The feeling between light and heavy pressing differed, very close to the sensation of driving in reality.
The computer screen displayed the game’s demo. Although some details weren’t fully polished, the game was largely complete.
Seeing this equipment, Meng Chang could hardly wait to take it for a spin!
After all, many people claim they don’t like speeding, but in reality, they’re just afraid of accidents. Once in a game, everyone stomps on the accelerator with intensity.
Not to mention, with this direct-drive steering wheel, the tactile all-metal pedals, and the G-force chair, wouldn’t it be a complete waste not to race a bit?
Ye Zhizhou explained, “Currently, you can directly select different game modes, but in the official version, you’ll need to complete a series of prerequisites.”
These “different game modes” mainly included: regular driving mode, cargo transport mode, passenger transport mode, circuit racing mode, rally mode, and more.
Regular driving mode roughly corresponded to normal driving, while cargo and passenger transport modes corresponded to trucks and buses respectively. Circuit racing and rally modes corresponded to different types of tracks.
Without hesitation, Meng Chang chose circuit racing mode.
No joke—with such great equipment, of course you’d want to race on a track!
Moreover, Meng Chang was quite confident in his driving skills. He had previously learned a bit of drifting at a race track and felt quite good about his abilities.
Besides, in racing games, drifting should be somewhat optimized, right? Just like in many racing games where you can drift by simply pressing the handbrake button. Now it was just a change of equipment, replacing the joystick with a steering wheel and the button with an actual handbrake—the operation principle remained the same.
Entering the race track, he very skillfully pulled the handbrake for a tire-burning start!
Approaching the first right turn, Meng Chang applied the techniques he had learned: turning left then quickly turning right while sharply pulling the handbrake!
Then the car crashed directly sideways into the barrier.
After a loud “bang,” the view switched from inside the car to outside. The airbag deployed, and the driver was dazed in his seat as staff rushed out for rescue.
The surrounding spectators let out gasps—some of fear, others of mockery and confusion, as if wondering how someone so unskilled had gotten onto the track in the first place.
Meng Chang: “???”
Something wasn’t right. This wasn’t how the game script was supposed to go!
First, according to general racing games, if I turned the wheel and pulled the handbrake, shouldn’t I have drifted through smoothly?
Second, even if I bumped something, shouldn’t I be able to continue driving? How did the driver just give up completely?
Finally, and most ridiculously, the surrounding spectators were actually mocking me?
In other racing games, trackside spectators were basically just background elements, standing in place holding signs and jumping up and down. But this game actually gave spectators different reactions?
How insane! Why would you do this?
And after the crash, a page popped up showing the vehicle damage and repair costs, even including the driver’s injuries and medical expenses.
Meng Chang had barely started—the G-force chair had just begun to vibrate, and the steering wheel and pedals had just started to give feedback—and then it was over.
Ye Zhizhou cleared his throat: “Ahem, you’ve previously played entertainment-oriented racing games, right? You’ve never played simulation racing games?”
Meng Chang nodded: “Is the difference that big?”
Ye Zhizhou was caught between laughter and tears: “Of course it’s big—they’re completely different concepts! The race cars in this game are based on real-life race cars, highly realistic. That crude drifting technique you just attempted—no, it can’t even be called drifting, it can only be called suicidal—it’s no wonder you crashed.”
“So in this situation, I’d recommend first playing the normal driving mode. Getting on a race track isn’t something you can master overnight…”