Pei Qian set aside the annual meeting proposal, planning to review it later when he had time.

It wasn’t that he was lazy – he just felt that the specifics of the annual meeting didn’t really matter. The priority ranking at his end was: first, spending money; second, ensuring non-profitable industries stayed non-profitable; third, making profitable industries earn less.

Organizing an annual meeting to distribute employee benefits was merely a small part of the first priority.

“The most successful project this cycle should be the Desperate Plan’s incubation base.”

“So far, only two indie games have been released – one received praise but poor sales, while the other got neither praise nor sales. In short, neither made any money.”

“And judging from Qiu Hong’s development progress reports, several innovative games he’s placed high hopes on are nowhere near ready for launch. At earliest, they’ll release next month, so they shouldn’t cause me trouble before settlement.”

“Turns out the Desperate Plan hasn’t disappointed my expectations after all. Currently, it’s purely operating at a loss, and the outside world basically doesn’t know the Desperate Plan is run by Tenda.”

“No fame, no profit – excellent!”

Pei Qian happened to flip to Qiu Hong’s incubation base work report and was very satisfied with the current state.

However, just then, Pei Qian’s phone vibrated with a new message from Qiu Hong.

“Mr. Pei, great news!”

“Today ‘White-Collar Worker Survival Manual’ officially launched, and both its reputation and sales have exploded!”

Seeing this message, Pei Qian’s previous smile froze on his face.

What the hell?

What was “White-Collar Worker Survival Manual”?

He quickly opened Qiu Hong’s report containing all indie games under development at the incubation base. He scrolled through from beginning to end but saw no mention of any “White-Collar Worker Survival Manual.”

“What the hell is going on!” Pei Qian was momentarily speechless, feeling his composure crumbling.

What happened to the promised guarantee that Desperate Plan wouldn’t make money this cycle?

Where did this game suddenly come from!

…

Meanwhile, in Imperial Capital, at Cherry Studio.

The studio owner and producer Jiang Fan, along with lead designer Yang Liang and others, stared at backend sales data with stupid grins.

Although it wasn’t New Year’s yet, this four-person team was as happy as if they were celebrating New Year’s.

Qiu Hong had also arrived, his smile impossible to hide.

Jiang Fan’s face beamed with excitement: “Manager Qiu! This game’s success is really thanks to your investment. Without that funding, our game wouldn’t have been so polished, and development wouldn’t have gone so smoothly. The Desperate Plan truly came through when needed!”

Qiu Hong smiled and waved dismissively: “You’re too kind. I’m just following my boss’s requirements by investing in indie games. You met the criteria, so I invested. Honestly, I couldn’t tell before whether your game would succeed.”

“To be frank, I never expected ‘White-Collar Worker Survival Manual’ to achieve such good sales and results. I thought it might have modest success at best – never expected it to become such a hit!”

“I should thank you instead. The Desperate Plan hasn’t had any standout titles, and though my boss hasn’t criticized me, I’ve felt awkward about having nothing to show. Now with a hit game, I can finally feel proud!”

Lead designer Yang Liang chuckled bashfully: “Actually, our game’s success has a large element of luck.”

“There are so many ‘office slaves’ now, all white-collar workers who relate deeply to and despise workplace scheming and forced overtime.”

“It’s year-end again – company bonuses and annual meeting news spreads across the internet. Everyone’s comparing notes and feeling envious, creating natural buzz.”

“‘White-Collar Worker Survival Manual’ captured that office slave experience perfectly, resonating with everyone, spreading instantly, and becoming a hit!”

Qiu Hong nodded: “This game’s explosive success is definitely tied to the overall environment. But your design and persistence are the fundamental reasons for its success!”

“Indie game development is tough – very few can stick with it. You four either quit stable jobs to start this business or took pay cuts to join. That spirit is what supported your success.”

“Alright, stop staring at the numbers. We should celebrate properly – let’s go for barbecue, my treat!”

Jiang Fan quickly protested: “No way, let me pay.”

Qiu Hong raised his hand: “Don’t argue with me. I said I’m paying, so I’m paying. Everyone pack up – we’re leaving now!”

Qiu Hong was just as happy as Jiang Fan and his team.

On one hand, he genuinely felt relieved seeing indie game developers succeed; on the other, he was pleased that the Desperate Plan finally had a representative work.

Mr. Pei had high hopes for the Desperate Plan, yet no successful games had emerged, making Qiu Hong feel embarrassed.

Though Qiu Hong’s compensation was based on investment amounts – regardless of game success – lacking results would still bother him deeply.

Cherry Studio’s success was a complete pleasant surprise for Qiu Hong.

Recently, he’d focused mainly on the incubation base, where several games were still far from official launch.

Instead, it was Cherry Studio – which he’d invested in then largely ignored – that suddenly released a hit game. How could he not be happy?

Cherry Studio wasn’t included in the incubation base.

The incubation base catered to lone developers lacking supporting services, while Cherry Studio was a four-person team with office space and clear role divisions. Though small, they were organizationally complete and didn’t need incubation base services.

Cherry Studio’s only need was funding. Once Qiu Hong filled that gap, art assets arrived quickly. With financial worries gone, team morale improved dramatically, and “White-Collar Worker Survival Manual” naturally met its development schedule!

Launching before Spring Festival perfectly captured workplace hot topics: year-end parties, bonuses, resignation waves, etc., resonating widely online.

As a representative domestic single-player indie game, it naturally received enthusiastic player support. Several gaming YouTubers on AiLiDao made review videos, their quality content attracting more players.

While waiting for others to prepare for dinner, Qiu Hong browsed his phone, checking online reviews.

Overwhelmingly positive!

Though as an indie game it had inevitable flaws in mechanics, systems, and graphics, its novel theme strongly resonated with players. Forgiving fans overlooked these imperfections, giving high ratings.

For Cherry Studio, fixing these flaws and improving polish would further boost ratings.

Compared to the grueling development phase, subsequent improvements would be much simpler.

With confirmed profitability, Cherry Studio wouldn’t worry about funding for months. Player recognition would motivate their work further.

“Wait, doesn’t this mean I have work to do?”

Qiu Hong suddenly realized this point.

Previously, he’d felt somewhat lost about his role, unsure of his responsibilities.

Managing the Desperate Plan meant only investing in indie studios and developers, not interfering with game design. This often left him feeling powerless.

Watching two released games fail commercially while others couldn’t launch before month’s end left Qiu Hong feeling his work lacked achievements – anxious but helpless.

But now with “White-Collar Worker Survival Manual’s” success, things were different!

Riding this game’s popularity, Qiu Hong planned to introduce players to the “Desperate Plan” concept.

Without successful games, forcing the “Desperate Plan” concept on players would gain little attention. But with a hit game, everything changed!

Qiu Hong aimed to make players associate quality domestic indie games with the “Desperate Plan.”

This was crucial for other indie developers, himself, and the entire Desperate Plan.

“Perfect, it’s decided. I’ll promote Desperate Plan using ‘White-Collar Worker Survival Manual.'”

“Simultaneously, I’ll release ‘Ink and Clouds’ demo and promotional videos, opening pre-orders!”

Qiu Hong suddenly found direction in his work, instantly energized!

…

Meanwhile, Pei Qian was also searching online for “White-Collar Worker Survival Manual” information, though his expression wasn’t joyful like Qiu Hong’s, but bewildered and confused.

The Desperate Plan was losing money nicely – where did this damned game come from?

Moreover, this game actually became popular?

What’s so appealing about simulating office life?

Pei Qian casually browsed and quickly found a highly-upvoted player comment expressing love for the game.

“Honestly, gameplay, graphics, and details aren’t outstanding – even mediocre. But its biggest strength is the well-chosen theme that feels extremely real and creates strong resonance.”

“For example:”

“The company you join is called ‘Effort Brings Success Co., Ltd.'”

“The game explains no difficulty options by saying: ‘Workplace has no difficulty settings because everyone faces HARD+ mode.'”

“Failing to meet boss expectations lowers satisfaction, reducing promotion/raise chances. But meeting expectations makes future tasks harder while satisfaction growth slows…”

“Countless relatable moments prove designers truly understand office life struggles.”

“While realistic, the game contains many metaphors. Viewing choices as an observer makes you realize your own life passes similarly helplessly. Dark humor brings knowing smiles alongside inevitable bitterness.”

“Overall, as an indie game, it exceeded all expectations.”

“Many think multi-million dollar productions alone make good games, that domestic games suck due to insufficient investment. Obviously not.”

“True quality games depend on developers having genuine passion. Thank you Cherry Studio – I’ll continue supporting you!”

“Finally, most endings feel rather bitter – overwork death, mental breakdown, mediocrity, midlife crisis… All too tragic!”

“Strongly suggest adding a ‘Tenda Starting Position’ to let us fantasize about workplace happiness!”