After spending more than five hours playing through “Struggle” in one sitting, He An fell into confusion.

Was there something wrong with this game?

Wasn’t it too depressing and disheartening?

Or was his luck just terrible, carefully selecting each option only to end up with the worst possible endings?

He An instinctively reflected on himself.

Hmm, maybe I approached it the wrong way.

After all, these interactive movie-type games typically have many branching options, and “Struggle” was no exception.

He An looked at the storyline in the game, which resembled a dense web with many branches.

Logically, each version should have at least three or four endings to justify the game’s scope.

Moreover, buying both the poor and wealthy versions together should unlock hidden endings and Easter eggs, right?

So He An decided that after dinner, he would go through all the remaining branches, which should lead to good endings.

This feeling was like eating a table full of dishes—some delicious, some not. If the last bite was of something unpleasant, you’d need to quickly take another bite of something delicious to wash away the taste, otherwise, that unpleasant flavor would linger.

“I have to say, Mr. Pei’s skill is quite profound. Whether the direction is right or not, the foundation is solid.”

“I originally thought that playing a realistic-themed game would be boring, but that wasn’t the case. Although I got two bad endings, the content was still quite impactful.”

“After unlocking all the endings, I’ll be able to analyze exactly what hidden agenda Mr. Pei is pushing in this game.”

He An realized that it had been a long time since a domestic single-player game had made him feel this excited, expectant, and enthusiastic. He couldn’t wait to finish his meal so he could continue playing the other endings of the game.

…

…

September 4, Sunday, noon.

He An sat in front of his computer, lit a cigarette, and silently contemplated life.

Last night and this morning, he had been grinding through various branches of “Struggle.”

For the wealthy version’s protagonist, he chose different hobbies in childhood, married different girls as an adult, and selected different careers.

For the poor version’s protagonist, he chose different courses in childhood, and as an adult, tried to be frugal, save money, and find better jobs…

However, no matter how hard he tried or how many branching storylines he completed, the two endings remained unchanged!

No matter what the wealthy person did, he would always be killed at the book signing.

No matter what the poor person did, he would always be trapped in the cycle of poverty.

Of course, there were some subtle differences between the two versions:

For the wealthy person, whether choices were made correctly or not didn’t affect game progression, because each time there was a failure, funds would be quickly replenished, and choosing different careers only meant switching from one type of success to another.

As for the poor person, the correctness of choices did have an impact. If wrong choices were consistently made, the ending would come after just over an hour. If all choices were correct, the game could last up to three hours, allowing players to experience middle-class life before concluding.

As for the so-called hidden endings? They were completely unfindable!

Not only were there no hidden endings, but there wasn’t even any connection between the poor and wealthy versions.

He An had instinctively assumed that the person who killed the wealthy protagonist was most likely the disillusioned poor protagonist or the poor protagonist’s son, but despite his efforts, he couldn’t find any connection between them.

There was no connection between the poor protagonist, the poor protagonist’s son, and the wealthy protagonist.

In other words, whether one bought the poor version or not had virtually no impact on the wealthy version’s content.

This was absurd!

The message seemed to be: You’d better not buy either version, but if you must, buy the wealthy version.

That was completely unreasonable!

He An couldn’t help but apply his game design theories to this game. He had previously taught Mr. Ma four key points:

Choose marketing methods based on game content.

Select game types with high market share.

Appropriately insert agendas into the game.

Analyze and satisfy market demands.

From what he could see, “Struggle” didn’t touch on any of these points! All wrong!

He An had previously believed that if a game got one of these points wrong, it wouldn’t be perfect; if two points were wrong, sales would be concerning; if three points were wrong, it would flop.

A game that got all four points wrong? Unheard of!

At the very least, choosing the game type and the appropriate marketing method were obvious points, right? Getting those wrong seemed too absurd.

As for the latter two points, “Struggle” also seemed to have major problems.

He An had taught that when inserting agendas, one must consider the audience’s receptiveness and tolerance.

So what agenda was “Struggle” pushing?

Inciting hatred? Or the futility of struggle?

Indeed, this game was quite realistic as a representation of reality, including details of poor and rich lives that matched American data.

But wasn’t the ending too disgusting?

More importantly, promoting the idea that struggle is futile is wrong in any context.

This kind of agenda, cutting open bloody reality, didn’t seem to have much instructive value and would only cause discomfort.

The saying “kneeling to reality” describes this perfectly.

Real life is already miserable enough, and I know real life is miserable, so why must you use a megaphone to proclaim it in front of me?

Isn’t that just disgusting?

So, He An’s first impression was that this wasn’t an appropriate agenda, because it lacked instructive value and wouldn’t be well-received. Instead, it would easily cause resentment.

As for analyzing and satisfying market demands, it was even more off the mark.

The current mainstream market still treats games as entertainment and leisure activities. Making something so heavy doesn’t meet most players’ needs!

As for the highest level of creating demand…

He An had previously thought that Mr. Pei was a master at creating demand.

But for “Struggle,” creating this level of demand would be extremely difficult!

Moreover, if you got the first three questions wrong on a test with four questions, could you still get the last one right?

If you could get that right, I would immediately take this test and…

Frame it!

He An initially wanted to make a bold statement, but upon second thought, he couldn’t do that. He shouldn’t underestimate Mr. Pei.

If I can see these problems, wouldn’t Mr. Pei see them too?

He definitely would.

And He An subconsciously felt that the game didn’t repel him that much. If he dug deeper into his feelings about the game, there were some special emotions involved.

He An thought about it and decided to temporarily forget his theories accumulated over decades and re-examine the game from the perspective of an ordinary person, analyzing its deeper meaning.

Perhaps his theories were outdated?

…

Meanwhile, Pei Qian was at home, using his laptop to check the first batch of players’ reviews of “Struggle.”

“Struggle” wasn’t a particularly long game. If someone bought it yesterday, they could complete it today, and with a bit of grinding, they could even finish all the branch storylines.

Pei Qian was well aware that this batch of players’ feedback and word-of-mouth would directly determine whether “Struggle” could successfully lose money!

The best outcome, of course, would be for players to harshly criticize the game, with a batch of players requesting refunds and more players refusing to purchase or even pay attention to it.

Of course, Pei Qian himself felt this expectation might be too optimistic.

A slightly worse outcome would be for a minority of players to praise “Struggle” highly, while most players wouldn’t buy it.

This result would also be very acceptable to Pei Qian, and he thought it was the most likely outcome.

Pei Qian began to read players’ comments.

“This game is false advertising! I thought it was a large-scale action game, but after starting it, I realized I was tricked!”

“Yet the promotional text wasn’t wrong at all. This can only be called deliberate misdirection, which is quite annoying. When did Tenda start playing such tricks? Are they afraid that people wouldn’t buy it with honest advertising?”

“But I think it would have been fine to advertise it as an interactive movie game. We would still have bought it to play!”

“No one stops me this time, I must give it a one-star review! I purchased the game as soon as it was released, then played until this morning, hoping to get a perfect ending. And what happened? I was repeatedly disgusted several times! I’ve seen both endings three or four times!”

“I feel like my soul has been severely traumatized! The poor version depressed me, so I thought I’d try the wealthy version. Everything seemed fine at first, but in the end, it was like gold-plated excrement!”

“You’re lucky. I played the wealthy version first, was fed excrement at the end, then thought the poor version might be different. But that was miserable from start to finish. I’m completely shaken!”

“So it doesn’t matter which one you play first—they both disgust you?”

“Is this even a game? If you want to address this theme, why not make a documentary or art film?”

“The game medium allows for more free expression than documentaries or art films. Think about the character designs, the separate pricing for the two versions, and the many interactive experiences—these are things that films can’t provide.”

“Anyway, I’m praising this game to the skies! Especially the two endings—that ‘fraud’ in the wealthy version, and that echoing monologue at the beginning and end of the poor version—brilliant!”

“OK, those two parts did feel good, but looking at the entire game, doesn’t it seem lopsided? This seems to be a game made solely to recreate reality. Where’s the fun in gaming? And the agenda is too heavy-handed. Is it promoting fatalism, class theory, or the futility of struggle?”

“Indeed, I think this game might sell better in the West since they like this kind of pointless moaning. Most domestic players still believe in struggle and in the ideas of ‘heaven rewards the diligent’ and ‘self-improvement.’ The game’s theme conflicts with most people’s beliefs here and causes instinctive discomfort.”

“I think we should call for Qiao Laoshi at this point!”

“Indeed, there might be some points we missed. If Qiao Laoshi could provide a detailed interpretation, it might be more comprehensive.”

Pei Qian browsed through many players’ comments and felt that the current situation was still optimistic, though worse than he had estimated.

Many players were shocked by the cruel reality reflected in the game, which aligned with Pei Qian’s expectations. However, the problem was that Tenda’s long-accumulated reputation was withstanding this trend of public opinion collapse!

If it were another company, those criticizing would likely be in the absolute majority.

But Tenda Games had too many die-hard fans who were all masters of reading between the lines. These people naturally approached Tenda games with a halo effect—many ordinary advantages became special advantages in these players’ eyes.

These die-hard fans were among the first to purchase the game and were more eager to participate in discussions, with louder voices. So currently, the two opposing viewpoints online are in a state of equal strength.

Besides this, another important reason was that the game’s quality was indeed good.

After all, the Tenda Games team had rich development experience, and they could excel even with realistic themes. The endings of both versions were particularly impressive.

Pei Qian considered that this might also be due to the subject matter.