It was perfectly normal for Lin Wan not to understand, because her previous project at Tianhe Studio was “Bullet Hole,” and after joining Tenda, she had participated in the production of “Sea Fortress” and “Game Producer”—all of which were client-based games.
“Hot-Blooded Battle Song” was a browser game, which could basically be considered a completely different species from the games mentioned above.
Browser games had a unique set of design concepts and approaches, with various mature system gameplay elements that were relatively rare in client games.
Lin Wan had not only never participated in browser game development, but she had never even played browser games and had absolutely no interest in them.
When Ye Zhizhou and the others held meetings, they used terminology commonly found in browser game development, interspersed with English abbreviations. When describing gameplay, they used a lot of colloquialisms and internal shorthand for game mechanics.
As a result, even though everyone was communicating in Chinese, Lin Wan could only understand about thirty to forty percent.
Simply put, she recognized every individual word, but when strung together, she completely failed to understand what they meant…
Lin Wan could only silently take notes, neither nodding nor asking questions.
She didn’t nod because she truly didn’t understand and didn’t want to pretend that she did. She didn’t ask questions because she was worried about exposing her inadequacy and embarrassing Tenda and Mr. Pei.
Meanwhile, Ye Zhizhou and Wang Xiaobin would secretly glance at Lin Wan’s expression after each section they presented.
Lin Wan’s expression was serious as she continuously wrote and sketched in her small notebook. Her expression was inscrutable, and they couldn’t tell what she was thinking.
Although she looked very young, nobody dared to underestimate her. Everyone knew that Mr. Pei’s approach to employing people was never bound by convention.
Those chosen by Mr. Pei either possessed genuine talent and knowledge or had deep potential that could be developed. Either way, they were not to be offended.
After each section, Ye Zhizhou would pause briefly, intending to give Lin Wan some time to express her opinions.
Although Mr. Pei hadn’t changed a thing in this design document, who knew if this Development Director might have some brilliant insights?
However, Lin Wan only continued to silently take notes without saying a word.
Ye Zhizhou even began to doubt himself.
How was it that neither Mr. Pei nor the Director had any suggestions for modifications?
Was my design document really that perfect?
That couldn’t be right?
Or was I underestimating myself too much?
…
Finally, the entire design document had been presented. Ye Zhizhou briefly went over the project timeline, the approximate quantity of art resources needed, and the budget required to purchase these resources—just over two million yuan.
Then, Ye Zhizhou looked at Lin Wan.
Surely this Director would have something to say now?
Otherwise, what was she here for?
Feeling everyone’s intense gaze directed at her, Lin Wan felt a little nervous.
What should she do? They had been talking for half the day, and she hadn’t understood any of it!
Even the parts she did understand certainly couldn’t be brought up for discussion, because those were obviously very basic things, and bringing them up would only expose her lack of knowledge.
Fortunately, Lin Wan remained calm under pressure and successfully identified one area that Mr. Pei would definitely be dissatisfied with.
“There are no major issues with everything else.”
“It’s just this budget… Based on my understanding of Mr. Pei, it definitely won’t work.”
Ye Zhizhou tensed up. As expected, it was the budget that wouldn’t pass!
A budget of two million yuan was a bit much for a browser game.
In the browser game model, research and development costs accounted for only a small portion. Most of the money was used for marketing, such as buying click ads on websites, paying celebrities, and so on.
This was determined by the characteristics of the target audience for browser games.
Browser games mainly targeted office white-collar workers and wealthy bosses who didn’t have high requirements for game graphics. Many played secretly during work hours, not wanting to bother with complex operations or thinking too hard.
They just wanted to spend money and click their mouse to chop people.
These people often had strong spending power, so saving money on development and spending it on promotion would maximize the game’s profits.
But when preparing the budget, Ye Zhizhou was unwilling to follow the traditional approach.
Mr. Pei had finally approved this project, and the game name was “Power-Up Version,” so how could they produce graphics at the same level as ordinary browser games?
The art resources needed to be high-definition, and various gameplay elements needed to be optimized to perfection.
This back-and-forth had added up to over two million yuan. Ye Zhizhou had specifically consulted with Wang Xiaobin and was very satisfied with this budget.
However, was it still too much?
Ye Zhizhou anxiously looked at Lin Wan, thinking they could cut at most three to four hundred thousand yuan, but no more!
Lin Wan continued: “I think… Mr. Pei would probably only approve this project if it’s at least four million yuan.”
“You should just increase it directly to five million yuan to save Mr. Pei from rejecting it and you from having to redo everything.”
Each time a budget was rejected, all the art resource tables, various plans, and contacts with artists and programmers from resource platforms had to be changed.
If the budget increased from two million to three or four million, effectively doubling, these plans would have to be scrapped and redone. After all, the change would be too significant to be solved by simply replacing a few artists.
So Lin Wan very thoughtfully helped them raise the budget directly, saving them from having their painstakingly prepared budget tables rejected by Mr. Pei and having to redo them.
Everyone looked completely bewildered.
Ye Zhizhou almost thought he had misheard.
Two million was too little? Increase it to five million??
She was proposing a super multiplier just like that?
But looking at Lin Wan’s serious expression, she was not joking but offering genuinely earnest advice.
Ye Zhizhou and Wang Xiaobin exchanged glances, hesitantly saying: “Five million? That seems far too much…”
“We don’t need that much money; just over two million is enough, really enough.”
Lin Wan shook her head: “It might be enough for you, but it’s far from enough for Mr. Pei. You don’t understand the extent to which Mr. Pei strives for perfection in these details. Trust me, increase it directly to five million.”
Looking at Ye Zhizhou, who was baffled as he lowered his head to modify the table, Lin Wan couldn’t help but smile knowingly.
“I finally understand exactly why Mr. Pei sent me here!”
“Apart from learning about the design knowledge of other types of games, another crucial point is to convey the Tenda spirit!”
“Ye Zhizhou’s timid approach to budgeting strongly resembles how Lü Mingliang used to be.”
“Mr. Pei is busy with work and can’t be everywhere at once. He can’t personally come to correct these people’s bad habits. So sending me here is perfect—on one hand, it allows me to grow, and on the other hand, it allows me to correct their bad habits!”
“So I should guide them more spiritually, helping them strive to keep pace with Tenda.”
“Mr. Pei didn’t lie to me; this truly is a very important job!”
Ye Zhizhou quickly reviewed the budget, his brows furrowed.
“But… if the budget is increased to five million, we’ll encounter a new problem.”
“We’re just making a browser game. Even if we replace all the resources with high-definition versions and hire a few excellent concept artists for design work, I’m afraid we still won’t be able to spend all this money…”
“Moreover, we’re currently using the official platform’s 2D engine, which won’t support these high-definition resources very well. The effect might not be particularly noticeable when implemented.”
“In simple terms… the cost-effectiveness would be very poor.”
Lin Wan thought for a moment: “Then change the engine and just go with 3D.”
Ye Zhizhou was momentarily speechless: “Going with 3D… then we can’t make it a browser game. The amount of art resources to be transmitted would be too large, and current internet speeds would make loading too slow.”
The browser game model was designed for immediate play, with all art resources transmitted in real-time.
Limited by internet speed, resources couldn’t be too large; otherwise, transmission would be very slow. If players moved to the next scene while the current scene’s resources were still loading, that would be extremely awkward.
When Lin Wan played “Hot-Blooded Battle Song,” every time she entered a new scene, she would see “Resources Loading” for exactly this reason.
After much discussion, the problem remained unsolved.
Lin Wan was very clear that a mere two million yuan budget could not meet Mr. Pei’s requirements. However, limited by the browser game format, increasing the budget to five million would not significantly improve the graphics either.
Unless they stopped making a browser game and made a client game instead, allowing players to download all resources to their own computers.
But in that case…
The game type itself would change, making it completely unrecognizable, a total mess!
Wang Xiaobin coughed twice: “Ahem, I think if we absolutely must use high-definition resources to create a 3D version, we could try making a micro-client.”
“That is, a miniature client.”
Compared to client games, players would need to download far fewer resources, and the computer configuration requirements wouldn’t be very high. Yet compared to browser games, the graphics would see a noticeable improvement.”
“Of course, there’s a risk of satisfying neither side—it’s a high-risk move.”
