But how should he dissuade these players?

Pei Qian was just a nobody. Even if he revealed his identity and claimed to be the creator of “Lonely Desert Highway,” how would this news spread quickly?

After some thought, Pei Qian decided it would be better to write directly on the game’s official details page.

This way, when players came to download the game, they would immediately see Pei Qian’s message, creating an excellent deterrent effect!

With this in mind, Pei Qian immediately opened the backend and began modifying the game description.

“I apologize to everyone!”

“I’m sorry, this is truly a very garbage, extremely garbage, garbage game!”

“Unbearably boring, not worth playing at all!”

“Please don’t play it! Players who have already purchased, please refund as soon as possible, thank you!”

Pei Qian updated the description and silently waited.

But after an hour, the game’s hourly download rate showed absolutely no signs of decreasing!

Not only that, there were some new comments.

“Huh, the game description changed?”

“Did something happen to the developer?”

Considering your apology, I forgive you. But 1 yuan isn’t worth refunding, the process is too troublesome. Consider buying an ice cream for the developer.”

“This designer is hilarious! Do you think we don’t know this is a garbage game? We’re playing it BECAUSE it’s garbage!”

“Feels like the game’s creator is quite self-aware. Since you’re so honest, here’s a 5 yuan tip.”

“I’ve gifted this game to my friends!”

Looking at these responses, Pei Qian almost cried.

What do I need to say in the description for you people to get a refund?

Now Pei Qian realized that setting the game price at 1 yuan had been a huge mistake, because the price was so cheap that many people who bought it couldn’t be bothered going through the refund process!

But the crucial point was that Pei Qian didn’t dare set it too high either, because this was just an indie game—if he had priced it at over a hundred yuan, not only would the ESRO review process be difficult, but the system would certainly warn him too!

Pei Qian was in despair. Watching the game’s popularity remain high, he felt he couldn’t take it anymore.

…

Monday.

“Qian Ge, you skipped this morning’s class again?” Ma Yang had already packed up his things. Looking at Pei Qian, who was awake but lying in bed like a salted fish, staring at the ceiling and contemplating life, he asked with some confusion.

Pei Qian waved his hand, lacking even the energy to speak.

“Impressive,” Ma Yang said, taking his textbooks and heading out.

After all, they were only in their first year. Most students only developed the habit of skipping classes and sleeping until noon in their second or third year.

But Pei Qian had come from ten years in the future, so he knew that missing these classes wouldn’t matter much.

After all, he wasn’t studying medicine or law, where skipping one class could make you fail the subject and question your life choices. As an ordinary humanities major, even if you never attended classes, you could still pass by cramming before exams.

Besides, how could Pei Qian have any mood for classes now…

Every day, when he opened the game editor backend and refreshed it, seeing the rapidly increasing numbers would give him more reasons to contemplate life.

After lying like a corpse in bed for a full half hour, Pei Qian finally mustered the courage to summon the system.

After Sunday’s settlement, the game platform’s revenue share should have been transferred to the company account by early this morning.

Now, the system funds in the system should have been updated too.

With the feeling of a prisoner awaiting execution, Pei Qian looked at the number on the system screen.

【Wealth Conversion System】

【Host: Pei Qian】

【Profit conversion ratio 100:1, Loss conversion ratio 1:1】

【Next settlement time: 7 days later】

【System funds: 51394.5 (↑1394.5)】

【Personal assets: 367】

“Oh…”

Pei Qian closed the system interface, feeling like he was about to die.

He couldn’t take it anymore, really couldn’t take it!

He was somewhat mentally prepared for this number, since he could roughly calculate how much money would be earned based on the game’s cumulative downloads.

Since Qiao Laoshi’s video was released, the game’s daily downloads have been skyrocketing.

Qiao Laoshi’s video had been frantically reposted by many marketing accounts, and many others were riding the popularity of “Lonely Desert Highway,” even triggering a wave of copycat videos from other creators.

Once the popularity rose and the wave of promotion formed, it became difficult to stop.

Pei Qian watched helplessly as the game’s daily downloads surged from dozens to hundreds to thousands, and then to several thousand.

The surge in downloads also gave the game better recommendations on the gaming platform—indie game recommendations, driving simulation game recommendations, racing game recommendations, and so on, which appeared in all of them.

Every time Pei Qian opened the system backend, he would receive system messages.

“Congratulations! Your game ‘Lonely Desert Highway’ has been recommended by XXX. During this period, please try not to update the version to avoid unknown bugs affecting the game experience…”

Now Pei Qian was completely numb to these words.

No greater sorrow than a dead heart!

There was still a week left, and now the system funds had exceeded fifty thousand yuan, which meant that when the settlement came, this earned money would be converted to Pei Qian’s assets at a ratio of 100:1.

For 1000 yuan, he would get… 10 yuan?

Looking at the numbers, Pei Qian felt like crying without tears.

…

…

One week later.

In the dormitory.

“…How bizarre, how did such a ridiculous game become popular?”

“Get off my computer!”

“There’s someone on the leaderboard who’s grinded more than forty hours in this game… what a lunatic!”

Ma Yang was playing “Lonely Desert Highway” on the upper bunk but quit after less than five minutes, completely baffled about how this game had become so popular.

Meanwhile, Pei Qian trembled in the lower bunk.

“Hey, Qian Ge, have you played that super popular, stupid game recently? The one about the desert highway?” Ma Yang hung his head down from the upper bunk and asked.

“…No.” Pei Qian was telling the truth; he indeed hadn’t played this game.

Because he knew too well that this game was just meant to annoy people—how could he play it himself…

Ma Yang slapped his thigh: “It’s such a scam! I don’t know which jerk made this game, what a rotten heart!”

Pei Qian: “…”

I didn’t mean for you all to play it! It’s you people who insisted on playing it—how can you blame me?!

Pei Qian never imagined that this game would become so popular on campus, even reaching his dormitory…

During this week, after frantic sharing by many video creators and gaming media, “Lonely Desert Highway” had completely blown up, to the point where Pei Qian questioned his life.

He was very grateful for one thing: in 2009, streaming platforms weren’t nearly as popular as they would be ten years later—they were just beginning to develop. Currently, YY Live, the dominant platform, had only about a hundred thousand streaming users.

If streaming were as popular now as it would be ten years later…

Pei Qian didn’t dare imagine the consequences.