“Boss Pei is truly Boss Pei.”

“This could be called the finishing touch of this game!”

Li Yada was utterly convinced, deeply feeling that she still had too much to learn.

Of course, the only problem with this finishing touch was that it seemed very difficult to discover.

Li Yada even felt that the possibility of it being discovered approached zero.

“Why would Boss Pei hide it so deeply?”

“Is it just because the previous six deaths represent the six realms of reincarnation, and the seventh represents enlightenment?”

“That’s not right either. Boss Pei also comprehensively lowered the old monk’s attributes, infinitely reducing the possibility of players dying at his hands.”

If following the previous design, this old monk’s strength would have been equivalent to a minor boss, and many players would have died repeatedly here, with six deaths likely achieved quickly.

In that case, this weapon would certainly be discovered.

But now, even pure butterfingers would at most die once or twice before the old monk.

After all, truly unskilled players wouldn’t get past the earlier monsters and would never reach the old monk in the first place.

“Such an ingenious design, such a brilliant finishing touch… yet the vast majority of players won’t discover it.”

“Indeed, Boss Pei is still so unique.”

Li Yada couldn’t help but sincerely sigh.

Admittedly, Boss Pei was an unusual designer.

Other designers would do everything possible to please players, while Boss Pei was exactly the opposite—he never cared if players criticized him.

Of course, this didn’t mean that pleasing players was necessarily wrong or that tormenting players was necessarily right. It just showed that Boss Pei was always so unique in his design approach, and he didn’t expect players to understand his thinking!

This was evident from the game “Game Producer.”

Although countless people analyzed the deeper meaning of that game, Boss Pei never came forward with any official interpretation.

There’s a saying that “a thousand readers have a thousand Hamlets,” and some authors believe that once a work is completed, it belongs to all readers, and the author is not the person who possesses the only truth.

Boss Pei’s view on games was the same.

Although Boss Pei had created such a brilliant setting for “Look Back to the Shore,” he didn’t expect this setting to be discovered or acclaimed by players.

In other words, in Boss Pei’s view, even if this setting wasn’t discovered but remained buried until being found by players months or even years later, that was fine!

He might even prefer that it not be discovered.

No wonder Boss Pei specifically instructed earlier not to spread the word.

This was Boss Pei’s level of enlightenment!

Li Yada felt a bit frustrated—such a brilliant design might potentially remain buried, which was unbearable.

But she also understood Boss Pei’s feelings and felt she shouldn’t reveal this.

It was a dilemma, but after much consideration, Li Yada decided to follow Boss Pei’s words.

“What I can do is perfect the game’s details as much as possible and eliminate the minor flaws that Boss Pei didn’t have time to fix.”

“If players do discover this setting, they must not encounter any bugs—they must have the most perfect gaming experience!”

Li Yada pushed up her thick glasses, instantly filled with motivation again.

She seemed to understand why every lead designer promoted by Boss Pei was so capable.

It was because Boss Pei was a leader who naturally inspired people and kept them moving forward!

…

…

Meanwhile, in the office, Pei Qian—the leader who naturally inspired people and kept them moving forward—was looking at his black and white screen, feeling an impulse of impotent rage.

So frustrating!

Although Pei Qian had arranged his exclusive weapon for skipping class, this weapon wasn’t omnipotent.

The modified attributes of the “Salvation” weapon gave Pei Qian a feeling similar to the Great Knife in “Dark Souls 1″—normal attacks weren’t great due to their long wind-up, but ground smashes were effective.

At the same time, it had a long attack range and high damage, making it a perfect weapon for skipping classes.

When encountering monsters, one only needed to carefully avoid their attacks, find the right opportunity to quickly hit them and retreat, repeat this process, and most enemies could be defeated.

Moreover, “Salvation” had even higher damage than the Great Knife, further reducing the difficulty.

But the problem was… even with this weapon, while the player’s damage increased, monsters that could kill instantly would still kill instantly.

So, Pei Qian still had to suffer.

“How did I end up in such a situation…”

Pei Qian felt terrible.

No, I shouldn’t suffer alone!

Pei Qian grew increasingly frustrated and remembered the names in his little notebook.

Thinking of this, he took out his phone and sent a message to Assistant Xin.

“Contact Qiao Laoshi and ask if he’s interested in experiencing our new game. Sign a contract with him—he’ll be a full-time experience officer during the development period, playing the game eight hours a day, and we’ll pay him 500 yuan per day.”

“Hmm, he must play eight hours every day until the game launches. If he can’t persist and breaches the contract… then he won’t get a penny.”

Assistant Xin immediately went to arrange it.

At the thought that Qiao Laoshi would likely come running over excitedly to suffer with him, Pei Qian felt much better!

Why was Pei Qian so certain Qiao Laoshi would come?

Mainly because he had already investigated.

After Qiao Laoshi went to AiLiDao, his financial situation had improved significantly, but earning money was, after all, something one could never be satisfied with.

This opportunity had three attractive aspects for Qiao Laoshi:

First, money—calculating at 20 working days per month, that was 10,000 yuan;

Second, the chance to experience Tenda’s new game before anyone else, giving him an advantage over other content creators, whether for making videos or bragging to fans;

Third, the opportunity to see the true face of Tenda and Boss Pei.

Getting paid just to play games—where else could you find such a good deal?

So Qiao Laoshi would come.

After playing for a few more minutes, Pei Qian threw the controller on the table. Today’s suffering was over.

Although the game progress hadn’t advanced much, the exclusive weapon issue was resolved. With more suffering ahead, completing the Six Realms of Reincarnation ending was just a matter of time.

The game launch was still far off, so there was no rush.

Pei Qian picked up the delivery that had just arrived today and prepared to return to his residence to rest.

Just as he reached the door, Assistant Xin’s message arrived.

“Boss Pei, Qiao Laoshi has agreed and says he’ll come this weekend. I’ll arrange food and accommodation, as well as reimbursement for round-trip tickets.”

Pei Qian was delighted—what efficiency!

It seemed that Qiao Laoshi hadn’t given it much thought, immediately agreeing after hearing Assistant Xin’s explanation.

Pei Qian immediately replied: “Good, include all food and accommodation. Make sure everything is arranged well—we can’t neglect him.”

The man was coming from far away to suffer; his spirit would be devastated, so material compensation was the least they could provide.

Assistant Xin sent another message: “One more thing, Boss Pei. Zhang Zuting posted on Weibo expressing gratitude to us. I’ve already arranged for our official account to respond.”

“But, have you considered getting your personal Weibo verified?”

Pei Qian had his own Weibo account, but he only used it to check trending topics and occasionally look at pretty girls. It wasn’t verified, so others didn’t know it was Boss Pei.

Tenda did have an official Weibo, but it had just been established recently. The administrative department had designated people responsible for operating it, but its popularity wasn’t high.

Pei Qian firmly refused: “No need.”

He had no intention of becoming a Weibo celebrity and wasn’t interested in that.

Putting away his phone, Pei Qian prepared to go back and rest.

After walking a few steps, he suddenly felt something wasn’t right.

Taking out his phone again, he opened Weibo, searched for “Zhang Zuting,” and found his recent post.

“These past few days, I went to Jingzhou for work reasons—this time collaborating with a game company. Perhaps everyone will see me online soon. Also, at a private kitchen in Jingzhou, I had the best dinner I’ve had in recent years—really highly recommended! If any friends go to Jingzhou, don’t miss it!”