Cai Jiangdong thought for a moment: “In that case…”

“Letting players design their own clothes means a tremendous workload. We’d need to represent all kinds of fabrics, materials, and styles from real life in the game. Plus, it can’t be designed too complexly—it should be like the current ESRO editor, simple enough for beginners to pick up, rather than becoming a complicated tool only professionals can use…”

“Just on this point alone, it would consume a vast amount of energy. Even if we create it, we definitely wouldn’t have any energy left to develop other gameplay elements.”

“So… this game would become a tailor simulator?”

“And its entertainment value would greatly decrease. We might end up in that awkward situation where everything seems fine except it’s just not fun to play. It could possibly devolve into a platform where only a niche group of experts entertain themselves, while ordinary players can’t fully engage, leading to an inability to recover development costs…”

Pei Qian grew happier as he listened.

Isn’t this perfect?

This is exactly the effect I want to achieve!

This Cai Jiangdong has practically voiced all my inner thoughts!

The points Cai Jiangdong raised were indeed very reasonable. From a purely technical perspective, this game wouldn’t be difficult to make given the accumulated knowledge in the domestic gaming industry.

The key question was whether the invested resources, manpower, time, and so on would be proportional to the final output.

If they invested so many resources only to end up with insufficient entertainment value that failed to attract a large player base, falling into a situation where nobody cared about it, that would be very awkward.

Pei Qian was considering how to address Cai Jiangdong’s concerns when Lin Wan spoke first.

“I think Boss Pei’s idea is feasible, no problem!”

“This type of game is currently a blank space in the market, so there’s great room for development.”

“The large workload isn’t an issue. These things always involve trade-offs. We’re abandoning those overused conventional gameplay elements and focusing all our energy on letting players design their own clothes, achieving differentiated competition.”

“Once we overcome this challenge, we’ll naturally pull far ahead of similar games. If the game becomes popular, we can gradually develop other derivative gameplay elements like dress-up or character development later on.”

“If the game doesn’t become popular, that’s fine too. We can then implement dress-up and character development, which might help us turn things around.”

“This approach has the highest correlation with reality. What’s wrong with a tailor simulator? Put more elegantly, it should be called a fashion designer.”

“We have a large enough user base, and player creativity is limitless. As long as our game can inspire players’ creative enthusiasm and provide them with a sufficiently broad platform, exceptional works will inevitably emerge.”

“Isn’t this the same path that ‘Safe and Civilized Driving’ and ‘Real Estate Agent Simulator’ took? If driver simulators and real estate agent simulators can succeed, why can’t a tailor simulator succeed?”

Pei Qian nodded frequently during the first part of this speech.

Good, Lin Wan has helped me come up with a rebuttal, so I don’t have to rack my brains!

After cultivating everyone, the effects were indeed immediate. Previously, Pei Qian had to think of ways to convince subordinates who raised questions, but now he didn’t need to—someone else was doing it for him!

But upon hearing the last sentence, Pei Qian felt something was off.

It would have been better not to mention “Safe and Civilized Driving” and “Real Estate Agent Simulator.” Just thinking about these two games reminded Pei Qian of the painful lesson of how incredibly profitable they were.

How unlucky!

This seemed rather inauspicious.

If this tailor simulator turned out like those two games, then…

While Pei Qian was still conflicted, Cai Jiangdong continued: “But… Director Lin, I still think there are differences between these three games.”

“The core gameplay of ‘Safe and Civilized Driving’ and ‘Real Estate Agent Simulator’ is driving and arranging rooms, respectively. These two core gameplay elements actually have successful precedents; they’re relatively mature gameplay modes that have been validated by the market.”

“We only needed to deeply explore the fun in these modes, perfect them, and integrate them into the games, and success was virtually guaranteed.”

“But designing clothes as a tailor… this can hardly be considered a mature or successful model. I think the risks involved should be analyzed case by case.”

Lin Wan nodded slightly and fell into thought again: “Hmm… that makes sense too.”

Chixing Studio’s work model was similar to Tenda’s. Although the leader had the final say, in most cases it wasn’t a dictatorship model. Instead, they would fully listen to subordinates’ opinions, discuss thoroughly, and only then make a final decision.

The final decision might not satisfy everyone’s requirements, and in some cases might not even satisfy the majority, but the process couldn’t be skipped. It must be the result of thorough discussion and trade-offs.

Cai Jiangdong’s doubts did have some merit, so Lin Wan needed to reconsider carefully.

Others were thinking as well.

They believed that Boss Pei definitely had clear ideas, but the reason he hadn’t interrupted was likely because he hoped everyone could think independently and provide their own answers, rather than relying on Boss Pei to take care of everything.

But in reality, Pei Qian was also wavering at this moment.

He felt as if he was becoming a bit like Ma…

How did he develop the same problem as Old Ma? After Cai Jiangdong spoke, he thought Cai Jiangdong made sense; after Lin Wan spoke, he thought Lin Wan made sense. Whose reasoning ultimately prevailed depended on who spoke last…

This wouldn’t do—it was a terrible phenomenon!

Pei Qian felt that he needed to stay firm in his own thinking and not waver.

Considering the current situation, this game was indeed the optimal solution for Chixing Studio.

Could he think of an idea that would lose even more money? Pei Qian couldn’t come up with one.

Moreover, Pei Qian still had Tenda Games, Shangyang Games, and Fei Huang Studio—these three powerhouses to arrange. If he had any good ideas for losing money, they should prioritize these three.

As for Chixing Studio… achieving this level was already good enough.

Seeing that the discussion had reached another impasse, Pei Qian cleared his throat: “I think in the current situation, we can develop and see how it goes.”

“In the gaming industry, having controversy is actually a good thing. At least it indicates we’re on a relatively correct path.”

“If everyone thinks there’s no problem, that might actually be the biggest problem.”

“During the development process, embrace controversy, improve on controversial points, and gradually seek the optimal form for this game.”

“So, don’t overthink it, just start developing!”

“Some games can only reveal their complete form when they’re actually made.”

Everyone was slightly stunned.

Controversy is good?

No controversy might actually be the biggest problem?

What did that mean?

Everyone looked at each other, somewhat confused, but since there were many smart people present, they quickly understood.

Boss Pei’s statement had a qualifier: in the gaming industry!

If all designers thought a certain plan had no issues, that would actually be a very dangerous signal.

There’s no such thing as a perfect plan in this world; there must always be trade-offs. Designers’ abilities also vary, and some of their viewpoints must be incorrect.

If designers unanimously agreed that a plan had no issues, it could only mean the plan was mediocre, with all apparent flaws polished away, but its advantages would naturally be gone as well.

Controversy was actually a necessary process toward reaching the optimal solution.

Boss Pei had always been a pioneer, unafraid of taking risks.

Realizing this, Lin Wan immediately made the decision: “Alright, let’s do it!”

“As for the game’s name…”

Pei Qian immediately stood up: “You can come up with the name yourselves!”

If he didn’t leave now, the task of naming would fall on his shoulders again.

Although he was a genius at naming, he couldn’t be exploited so frequently!

At the beginning, Pei Qian named things to give himself good luck, but now he found that even names with good omens didn’t seem to achieve the effect he wanted.

Since that was the case, he might as well throw this task to them—they could name it however they wanted!

…

After leaving Chixing Studio, Pei Qian sat in the car heading back to the company, casually scrolling through his phone.

“Huh? Suffering Travel is open for registration again?”

“Damn, the situation is still so hot?”

“That doesn’t seem right?”

Pei Qian felt deeply confused.

Last month, Suffering Travel had paused for a month.

Mainly because after opening registrations previously, the backlog of applicants was simply too large. With Suffering Travel’s current capacity of only accommodating a dozen or so people per session, it was completely insufficient. So they had to urgently expand, train, and increase Suffering Travel’s capacity.

Therefore, Suffering Travel’s operations were suspended for a month. Bao Xu and Sa Ziran spent that time recruiting wilderness survival experts, specialists, retired special forces soldiers, nutritionists, doctors, and various other personnel. They organized them for unified training, then rented and modified more indoor training bases to increase the member capacity of Suffering Travel as much as possible.

After a month of hard work, Suffering Travel’s capacity should have significantly increased, so they accommodated a large portion of those who had previously registered and could now start a new round of registrations.

Pei Qian had originally thought that the full registration last time was due to some special reasons.

For example, although Suffering Travel was quite peculiar, there was still a niche group of people who liked this sort of thing; Tenda had too many die-hard fans who would participate mindlessly; there might have been companies showing support by registering their entire staff… situations like that.

Since it was a niche demand, surely there would come a day when it was exhausted?

Once Suffering Travel increased its capacity and took more people each session, consuming most of the niche demand, wouldn’t they be able to happily start losing money?

But reality had slapped Pei Qian hard in the face: it was still incredibly popular!

Where on earth were all these people coming from?