Everyone gathered around Ruan Guangjian’s computer screen.
On the screen was the requirements document provided by Ma Yang.
“Guan Yu… is a dragon?”
“Ma Chao… is a horse?”
“Then is Zhuge Liang a pig?” Old Huang made a reasonable deduction.
Ruan Guangjian glanced at him: “What the hell, Zhuge Liang isn’t a pig, he’s a great inventor.”
“…That’s even worse than being a pig,” Old Huang quipped.
After scanning the requirements document, Old Huang fell into a daze.
This counts as a requirements document?
Apart from forcibly rewriting these historical figures, nothing else was written!
Never mind reference images—that would be too luxurious—there wasn’t even the slightest description of appearance!
The directions for these magical transformations were all over the place.
Some turned into animals, some underwent gender swaps, and others became high-tech versions.
It was a complete hodgepodge!
“Is this client missing a brain?”
“Such a terrible requirements document, this…”
Old Huang was dumbfounded, never imagining that Ruan Guangjian would accept such a job.
Wasn’t he afraid that the client wouldn’t be satisfied with the results, leading to disputes between both parties?
They were all poor art students, and although they were slightly better off than students from other majors, if they had a conflict with a client where both sides shifted blame, it would still be a headache.
“What are you worried about? They’ve already transferred the payment to the resource site.” Ruan Guangjian showed Old Huang that the order status displayed “buyer has paid.”
The official ESRO resource site functioned somewhat like a middleman, providing guarantees as a platform. The client would specify requirements, and the contractor would begin production.
During this period, the client needed to pay the platform, which held the funds on behalf of the contractor. Only after both parties completed the transaction and the client was satisfied with the inspection would the funds be transferred from the platform to the contractor’s account.
If both parties had a dispute, the platform would naturally step in to arbitrate.
In that case, Ruan Guangjian had chat records, and the platform retained the original requirements document. It seemed like Ruan Guangjian and his team had the advantage.
“Guangjian, I still don’t think this is very reliable. Why don’t you confirm the requirements with them again and ask for something more detailed…” Old Huang still felt uneasy about the situation.
Ruan Guangjian became upset: “Old Huang, are you confused?”
“Do you want to continue drawing those Q-version characters? Haven’t you had enough?”
“The market is flooded with Q-version games. Yes, they make money, but ask yourself, do you enjoy drawing things with no technical challenge?”
“Where’s your artistic pursuit?”
“Here we have a great opportunity—no style restrictions, very loose requirements—this gives us so much creative freedom!”
“If we make a splash with this set of original artwork, our path forward will be smoother. We might even be able to form our studio after graduation!”
“Or would you rather remain unknown after graduation, enter an outsourcing company to be someone’s laborer, and continue drawing styles you don’t like at all?”
The others looked at each other, clearly moved by Ruan Guangjian’s words.
They were all still students, not veterans hardened by years in the industry.
When it came to art, they all had their ideas and were at a stage where inspiration was bursting forth.
Who would want to be a laborer drawing traditional things completely according to the client’s framework?
Everyone wanted to draw in their own preferred and skilled style!
Now they’d encountered a client who didn’t care about anything—such good fortune was rare.
Old Huang was somewhat persuaded: “Fine, Guangjian, you decide, and we’ll help you. How do you plan to draw these?”
“That’s more like it.”
Ruan Guangjian was satisfied and opened an image on his computer.
“I plan to use this style.”
“Epic ink-oil painting style.”
Old Huang’s mouth twitched slightly.
This style was one that Ruan Guangjian had previously created on a whim.
The character in the image was a tall, muscular minotaur with one broken horn. The black heavy armor it wore was also heavily damaged.
Its shoulder armor was impressive—a massive monster head—while the chains binding its body added a sense of defiance and resistance.
The overall color tone of the image was dark, with a pitch-black sky and battlefield, creating an atmosphere of despair and desolation.
If one only looked at this figure, it might remind them of the minotaurs from “Fantasy World.”
But upon closer inspection, one would find many differences between this bull and Western minotaurs.
Ruan Guangjian used numerous details to emphasize its Eastern elements, such as armor and weapon designs that leaned more toward Eastern styles, facial features more aligned with Eastern aesthetics, and a red battle robe, among other things.
This style was named “epic ink-oil painting style” by Ruan Guangjian because it combined the three characteristics of “epic,” “ink,” and “oil painting.”
The image wasn’t detailed down to every pore of the character; instead, it used many oil painting techniques for smearing, with a blurry background that more easily created this unique atmosphere.
At the same time, the original artwork incorporated many ink techniques, giving a strong sense of Chinese style.
Beyond that, the image itself evoked an extremely desolate feeling, creating an epic sense as if this bull had just experienced a divine war between gods and demons.
Old Huang and the others in the dormitory were already familiar with this painting.
They all admired Ruan Guangjian, as the techniques, lighting, and other details in this painting were beyond what ordinary art students could achieve.
But could this be used as game art?
Nobody was sure.
Mobile games nowadays favored Q-version artwork, and the jobs Ruan Guangjian and his team had taken before were all for Q-version art.
Even if some PC games adopted a realistic style, they generally preferred artwork with refined details and bright colors.
Ruan Guangjian’s style looked impressive, but it might also make people feel that the visuals were too dark and the game depressing to play.
That’s why Ruan Guangjian hadn’t dared to upload it to the resource site, fearing it might affect his business.
Old Huang hesitated: “Two questions. First, can this style meet the client’s requirements? Second, only you are skilled in this style; we might not be able to pull it off…”
Ruan Guangjian was well-prepared and confidently answered: “That’s why I said this requirements document aligns perfectly with my ideas!”
“My initial concept was inspired by xianxia and mythological stories.”
“I wanted to emphasize an epic feeling, and the most important aspect of being epic is the design! Righteous immortals and inhuman demons—these two drastically different designs are what create sparks when they clash!”
“In other words, the more the design deviates from human form, the better!”
“Strictly speaking, ordinary Three Kingdoms games aren’t suitable for this style, because the Three Kingdoms is about a group of people. How can you emphasize this feeling?”
“But this requirements document completely overturns the images of the Three Kingdoms characters, which perfectly matches this feeling!”
“Guan Yu is a dragon, Ma Chao is a dragon-centaur hybrid prince, Xu Chu is a tiger…”
“Doesn’t this naturally complement my style?”
“As for the style issue, don’t worry. I’ll handle the character design and line art, you help me refine it, and then I’ll do the finishing touches. Rest assured, with me guiding the overall direction, the style absolutely won’t go off track!”
