At noon, the roommates all returned.
Ma Yang was carrying a plastic bag containing food just bought from the cafeteria.
“Qian-ge, you’re really gutsy, actually skipping class? But you got lucky this time—the Vice Dean didn’t take attendance,” Ma Yang wore an expression that said “what kind of dumb luck is this.”
The other roommates each opened their laptops.
“No class this afternoon, come on, team up for a game?”
“Let’s go, hurry up. Ma Yang, where are you?”
“Wait a bit, I haven’t finished eating.”
“Hurry up, stop dawdling. Someone go call people from the other dorm.”
The others in the dorm had already set up small desk boards on their beds and opened their laptops.
The school’s accommodation conditions were that harsh—without even bunk beds with desks underneath, they could only sit cross-legged on their beds to play games.
Pei Qian had always suspected that his back discomfort was a problem developed during this time.
So, for the best gaming experience, even with their computers and the convenience of team play in the dorm, many students would still go to internet cafes.
Ma Yang hugged a stainless steel bowl with food wrapped in plastic bags on top, hurriedly took a few bites, lifted the plastic bag, and threw the whole thing into the trash.
Today was still good—they had morning classes, so everyone bought food back from the cafeteria.
If there were no morning classes, everyone would just lie on their beds doing nothing.
Whenever the first person decided to go to the cafeteria, others would immediately start “begging for takeout.”
Of course, food delivery services appeared later, but at that time, there were no delivery apps. Orders were placed by phone, and poor students from difficult family backgrounds would run errands as part-time jobs to earn some living expenses.
Ma Yang shouted outside, and the game room spots were quickly filled.
Pei Qian looked at the computer screen. This was a 5v5 battle game called “Divine Awakening,” with gameplay very similar to DOTA, just with completely different packaging.
Timing-wise, “League of Legends” became popular starting from 2011. Although it existed in 2009, it was still crude and unpolished.
Moreover, that was the situation in Pei Qian’s previous memories. Now, with such significant world changes, whether “League of Legends” would appear was still uncertain.
At this time, MMORPGs still dominated internet cafes, with the most popular game called “Fantasy World.”
Games like “Divine Awakening” were indeed popular, but obviously had higher popularity in dorms, as they weren’t purely online games.
They could be played in internet cafes with battle platforms, but the popularity still couldn’t compare to MMORPGs.
“Qian-ge, why do you seem so dazed today? Not fully awake?”
Ma Yang was puzzled by Pei Qian’s condition today. “We need one more to make nine, you coming?”
Pei Qian shook his head: “No, you guys find someone else.”
“Okay, I’ll call old Wang from next door.” Ma Yang didn’t ask further.
Soon, the dorm and the neighboring dorm started making a commotion.
“Hey, mid-laner’s gone, watch for roaming!”
“Damn, how did he kill me?”
“Hahaha, three against one and still got counter-killed, noob!”
Pei Qian stood behind Ma Yang, watching him rapidly click on the screen with his mouse, left hand tapping the keyboard, making the laptop keyboard clatter loudly—very much like a pro.
But looking at the score, 10 minutes into the game, the team’s kill count was 10-9, and Ma Yang’s score was 0-0.
While teammates fought intensely, he was missing last hits under the tower.
Pei Qian couldn’t help but sigh. In 2009, everyone was young and could still enjoy the fun of games. How nice.
After he started working, he bought a ton of games, all good ones, but after buying them, they just collected dust—he never even thought of opening them.
Exhausted from work every day, lying on the sofa after getting home, he only wanted to browse the web or watch livestreams. He was too lazy even to play mobile games that only required moving his fingers, let alone games that needed frequent operations.
But now, everything was different.
As long as he lost all the system funds, he could earn money while lying down, without having to struggle at all, happily living as a slacker!
Pei Qian lay on the bed, happily imagining his future life.
So, how should he spend this first 50,000 yuan…
First thing would be to get a high-end computer, right?
Then rent a place and live a shameless slacker life.
Hehehe, Pei Qian couldn’t help but laugh out loud.
…
…
“So, that’s it for this episode of ‘Trashing Garbage Games.’ If your daddy is in the audience, think this video was decent, please don’t forget to favorite, share, and subscribe!”
In a rental apartment in the capital, a young man with thick eyebrows, lifeless eyes, and a dejected expression sat before a computer, recording a video.
He was a well-known creator on Banana Potato Network’s gaming section. His real name was Qiao Liang, online name Qiao Laoshi, affectionately called the “Godfather of the Gaming Channel” by fans because he always called his viewers “daddy” at the end of each show.
As a full-time content creator, although Qiao Liang had some fame and quite a few fans, this was, after all, 2009. In such an environment, he lived from hand to mouth.
When he got a sponsored video, he could splurge and eat out at a good restaurant.
Without sponsored videos, he had to make do with a bowl of noodles in clear soup, losing weight through hunger.
Qiao Liang had tried many directions, but in the end, the “Trashing Garbage Games” series was the most popular, with higher view counts, attracting a group of game-loving fans.
Qiao Liang had another series called “This Month’s New Game Recommendations,” specifically used for sponsored content.
After all, his popular series was called “Trashing Garbage Games,” and no game company would dare put their sponsored content in that series.
So, Qiao Liang created “This Month’s New Game Recommendations” for sponsored content, but the attention this series received compared to “Trashing Garbage Games” was far too low.
After recording the new episode of “Trashing Garbage Games,” Qiao Liang hesitated to publish it.
Because he felt something was missing.
Yes, that’s right, it lacked a bit of soul.
This time’s game seemed to lack any distinctive garbage qualities!
After writing the script, carefully preparing materials, and recording the voiceover, Qiao Liang felt this episode was passable, but no matter how he thought about it, it seemed difficult to create a viral point.
This game was just boringly bad, without any talking points.
This gave Qiao Liang a headache, as he relied on this for a living. If the video’s view count didn’t rise, it would be difficult to get better sponsored videos.
So, Qiao Liang didn’t rush to publish this episode. Instead, he habitually clicked on the new game recommendation list on the official platform, beginning to “pan for gold in excrement.”
Before that, feeling a bit hungry, he took out a pack of instant noodles and boiled some water, preparing to replenish some energy.
With the water heating up, Qiao Liang continued searching for new games.
“‘Lonely Desert Highway’? What kind of weird game is this?”
Qiao Liang looked at the game’s description.
“A driving simulation journey for contemplating life?”
“How does one contemplate life?”
This description somewhat piqued Qiao Liang’s curiosity.
As a full-time video creator in the gaming section, Qiao Liang would try any game he found slightly interesting.
He clicked to download the game. Soon, the game finished downloading and automatically opened.