“Mr. Pei, do you remember Chen Sha? He wants a Barrett,” Lin Wan briefly explained her purpose.

Pei Qian’s first reaction was to refuse.

No joke—limited to 500 units meant exactly 500 units. How could they make exceptions so easily?

Give out one today, another tomorrow, and the day after, they’d be as common as cabbage. This kind of precedent couldn’t be set.

Mr. Pei himself didn’t have this privilege, so how could he casually give it to others?

Of course, the main reason Mr. Pei hadn’t given himself this privilege was because his FPS gaming skills were too poor—even with a Barrett Destruction in the game, he’d still get slaughtered.

Seemingly guessing what Pei Qian was about to say, Lin Wan spoke first: “Mr. Pei, I know his request isn’t very reasonable, but I think core players should receive some special consideration, right?”

“Even if we can’t just give it away directly, perhaps we could offer a compromise.”

“With the current limit of 500 units per month, it’s become purely a speed competition, which only benefits scalpers. It’s quite disheartening when players who truly love our game can’t get these weapons.”

Pei Qian thought about it and realized she had a point.

Whether Tenda made money or not didn’t matter, but they couldn’t dishearten players, and especially shouldn’t benefit scalpers.

After all, the players were innocent, while scalpers were just parasites.

Pei Qian pondered: “This is easily solved. We’ll soon update with an account reputation system. We’ll grade accounts based on many factors.”

“Core veteran players like Chen Sha, who have been particularly helpful to the game and made special contributions, will receive weighted bonuses.”

“Other accounts will be rated based on factors like whether they’ve engaged in abusive behavior, played civilly, their activity levels, and so on—like a credit rating system.”

“Those with high credit ratings can make early reservations to purchase epic weapons. Once a reservation is confirmed, it’s deducted from the 500 monthly quota. The higher the credit rating, the higher the reservation priority.”

“Of course, those with the same credit rating will still need to compete.”

“Scalpers aren’t veteran players, so their priority naturally comes last. At that point, even if they’re quick, they won’t have any chance to grab one.”

Lin Wan’s eyes brightened: “Great solution! Mr. Pei is indeed impressive, coming up with such a perfect solution! I’ll tell Chen Sha right away and let him know he can rest assured.”

Is it worth such a surprise?

Pei Qian was a bit confused—wasn’t this just a natural idea?

But thinking again, Lin Wan’s reaction seemed reasonable. Most people still had relatively outdated concepts about games, while Pei Qian had several years of additional memories, giving him a natural advantage in this area.

Of course, this advantage could only be useful in such minor matters in most cases. To say that with this experience,x could he immediately create a massive business empire like Shenhua Group?

Pei Qian felt that it was distant and not particularly realistic.

Better to focus on the present first.

Moreover, creating losses by limiting game revenue to exploit system funds and convert more personal assets didn’t conflict with long-term goals.

As he considered this, a commotion suddenly erupted from the distance.

“Brother Huang is back!”

“Brother Huang’s late, quickly punish yourself with three drinks!”

Pei Qian’s heart skipped a beat.

He’s here—Huang Sibo has returned!

According to Pei Qian’s requirements, Huang Sibo’s team should have completed filming by June 18th.

If the video was released later than the 24th, the system settlement would be delayed, which was unacceptable to Pei Qian.

Pei Qian estimated that Huang Sibo’s team should have completed the video editing work, with the release date likely chosen within the next day or two.

How much money Huang Sibo’s video would earn would directly affect Pei Qian’s upcoming plans.

Looking from afar, although Huang Sibo was smiling and greeting everyone, Pei Qian seemed to detect a hint of melancholy in his eyes.

Hmm?

Pei Qian’s heart leaped with joy. Could it be that Huang Sibo might bring him some unexpected good news?

He looked behind Huang Sibo but didn’t see Chen Lei.

After going to Magic City, Chen Lei had become an employee of Fei Huang Studio, though without actual work responsibilities—just a nominal position.

With Fei Huang Studio having completed their filming task, they naturally returned to Jingzhou to edit the footage and join the dinner. Chen Lei hadn’t come along, probably having his own arrangements.

Huang Sibo and Zhu Xiaocai greeted everyone one by one, then came to Pei Qian’s table.

“Come, sit.”

Pei Qian warmly invited the two to sit across from him.

The two were pleasantly surprised to receive the privilege of dining at the same table as Mr. Pei, as this was not a common treatment.

But Huang Sibo felt a bit dejected.

Why now, of all times!

Why did Mr. Pei seem cold when Fei Huang Studio previously signed with AiLiDao and made a huge profit, but now was so warm?

Could it be that Mr. Pei had already guessed our work didn’t go smoothly this time, so he’s especially trying to comfort us?

Huang Sibo and Zhu Xiaocai exchanged glances, both harboring the same suspicion.

Mr. Pei is truly a caring boss who looks after his subordinates!

Pei Qian had no idea how rich their inner thoughts were. He was merely deducing from their expressions that Fei Huang Studio’s documentary filming probably hadn’t gone smoothly.

That would be wonderful!

Talk about sending charcoal in snowy weather!

On Pei Qian’s side, the pressure to generate losses was already immense, and Lin Wan suddenly giving him a huge rent exemption had made things even worse.

But now, if Fei Huang Studio suffered a complete loss, then Pei Qian’s tense heart could relax a bit!

Huang Sibo and Zhu Xiaocai had little appetite. After casually eating a couple of bites, they looked at each other, both unsure where to begin.

“What’s wrong? Documentary filming didn’t go well?” Pei Qian asked with concern.

Huang Sibo took out his phone: “Mr. Pei, please look at the final cut we’ve edited first.”

“Alright.”

Pei Qian didn’t ask further, simply taking the phone and playing the video.

Previously, Huang Sibo had briefly explained to Pei Qian that this was a documentary about an esports player—Li Zhengwei, a star player of domestic Anti-Terrorism Plan—without revealing specific content.

Opening the video, the first part was a black screen monologue.

“Now, I train at least 14 hours every day.”

“I rarely see my family or friends, rarely have holidays.”

“For many people, this would be unbearable.”

“But if you want to become a strong player, you have to make these sacrifices.”

“I remember the day I decided to go professional, my father was about to leave for work. He locked the door and said that if I went professional, I should never enter this house again.”

“After he left, I kicked the door open, ran to Magic City alone, and began my professional career.”

Next came an aerial shot.

First, a seemingly very dilapidated small county town.

Then the camera turned, changing to the prosperous Magic City.

The title of the documentary appeared on screen: “Breaking the Cocoon, Becoming a Butterfly.”

The entire documentary wasn’t very long, only about ten minutes, yet Huang Sibo and his team had spent over a month filming it.

Pei Qian watched it carefully and found the documentary was even better than he had imagined.

The story structure was very complete, from Li Zhengwei skipping classes to play at internet cafés, to leaving home to become a professional player, to achieving results and being regarded as the domestic number one in the Anti-Terrorism Plan, to his current performance slump. Interspersed were interviews with his parents, people around him, his coach, and fans, coupled with appropriate background music and camera transitions, creating sufficient resonance.

Even Pei Qian was moved by this story.