Meanwhile, at the Inspiration Class of Qidian Chinese Web.
Cui Geng glanced at the time – two more hours until the end of his shift.
A week had passed in the blink of an eye, and tomorrow was the weekend again.
He left the audio-visual section of the Inspiration Class and went to the workspace area, finding an empty computer to continue writing the plot of “The Successor.”
Eight hours of work daily, with six hours spent watching various films, television shows, novels, and comics to gather materials, and only two hours available for actual writing – this was a strict rule of the “Inspiration Class.”
At first, Cui Geng felt two hours was too short and had a hard time adjusting.
After all, when he was writing online novels before, this timing was completely reversed – at most two hours collecting materials, with the rest of the time spent entirely on writing.
With only two hours of writing time now, Cui Geng always felt like the writing had barely begun before it ended. It was quite unsettling.
During the first half of the week, Cui Geng felt his creative rhythm was off. Often, just as he was getting into the groove during his two hours, time would be up.
The computers in the office area recorded each author’s writing time, and they couldn’t continue writing once they exceeded two hours.
Of course, authors could write on their own laptops after work hours or on weekends, or go to internet cafes – those were out of anyone’s control. But under this buyout creative model, with no requirements for update frequency or total word count, and the authors who chose to join the “Inspiration Class” – who would use their break time to write?
So Cui Geng found it quite difficult to adjust at first, writing slowly while readers grew impatient, showering him with criticism.
But gradually, he adapted to this creative mode.
Now, he spent six hours daily collecting materials and finalizing story details, then used the remaining two hours to focus entirely on writing. All content was thoroughly contemplated beforehand, practically eliminating writer’s block.
Moreover, having to compress all his daily writing into two hours seemed to improve the story’s pacing.
After gradually adapting to this creative rhythm, Cui Geng found it quite satisfactory.
Returning to the workspace, Cui Geng quickly entered his flow state after opening the computer. His fingers flew across the keyboard as story plots transformed rapidly from concepts in his mind into concrete text.
Cui Geng didn’t dare waste a moment – he knew that come quitting time, all the mice in the office area would “come alive” like real mice, scurrying everywhere and becoming uncatchable.
He had to finish today’s work before these mice ran off.
This week, the “Inspiration Class” had grown stronger too.
More authors from Qidian Chinese Web had completed their old books, accepted new buyout writing contracts, and joined the “Inspiration Class” to gather materials while creating.
But most still faced criticism.
Qidian Chinese Web readers had become aware of this “Inspiration Class” and their complaints grew louder.
Previously, only a small portion of Qidian Chinese Web authors had completed their old books and started writing for Tenda’s IP customization projects, affecting a limited reader base.
But now, more and more authors were being impacted!
Over this week-plus period, readers watched beloved authors who had completed their old books “lose their integrity,” with fewer new books they liked to read. Naturally dissatisfied, they felt Qidian Chinese Web was creating chaos, giving random orders, being overly ambitious with steps too big that risked painful consequences.
However, Qidian Chinese Web offered no response to these concerns.
The authors’ reactions varied.
Some found this creative approach quite pleasant – relaxed and free to write content they enjoyed, ignoring reader protests. Others regretted their choice, feeling neither they nor readers were satisfied with the output, planning to return to traditional profit-sharing works after finishing current stories.
Clearly, in a month or two, the “Inspiration Class” would filter out some authors while retaining others.
Regardless, everyone still needed to complete their current writing contracts. Fortunately, the highest word count requirement was only 500,000 words, which could certainly be finished within three months without delay.
As for Ma Yiqun, Zhu Xing’an, and other Qidian Chinese Web editors, they all followed Mr. Pei’s directive to let things run their natural course.
Cui Geng didn’t care about these matters. Whether other authors returned to profit-sharing or continued with buyout projects was none of his business.
He simply wanted to focus on writing “The Successor” well.
Even if people didn’t like it, to him it would still be a worthwhile attempt.
Last weekend, Cui Geng had written an opening for “The Successor.”
Throughout this week, he’d nearly completed the outline for subsequent story developments, with later work focused on refining details of each plot segment.
…
Phil Simmons, an ordinary playboy and rich second-generation heir with no special talents, decided to become a superhero. With full support from his wealthy father, he could use two billion dollars to realize his dream of becoming a superhero.
Phil had conducted thorough research, learning the four steps ordinary people needed to become superheroes in this era:
1. Find a way to become a superhero apprentice and successfully debut;
2. During the observation period, behave cautiously while accumulating supporters;
3. Participate in superhero elections, becoming a spokesperson for some organization;
4. Become an elite superhero, becoming the most powerful and prestigious person in Hope City or even all of America.
Phil knew clearly that for ordinary people, this path would be incredibly difficult.
Tens of millions across America dreamed of becoming superheroes, but those completing step one numbered only hundreds; completing step two, mere dozens; completing step three, only ten or so; truly reaching the pinnacle, just three to five individuals.
Moreover, Phil wasn’t the first wealthy person attempting to buy his way to superhero status.
In Hope City, at least dozens of ultra-wealthy individuals surpassed his father Ryan Simmons in wealth, yet most had failed to become superheroes.
They typically chose an alternative path: hosting superhero talent shows, providing campaign funds for superheroes, or investing in them before their debut, thus exerting indirect influence.
When certain conglomerates became sponsors for multiple superheroes, though these heroes weren’t exactly lackeys, they generally showed sufficient respect.
The issue was, this influence couldn’t be achieved through money alone.
Ryan Simmons was quite renowned among Hope City’s wealthy, yet Phil hadn’t reached the level of doing whatever he pleased, precisely because their control over superheroes wasn’t that strong.
The Simmons family could only control relatively weaker superheroes.
Americans wouldn’t allow superheroes to become corporate puppets, thus many institutional restrictions existed:
For instance: Conglomerates could provide campaign funds to superheroes, but it had to be voluntary and indirect, able to exert influence but never complete control;
Behind powerful superheroes stood not just one but multiple conglomerates forming interest coalitions, creating mutual restraints, with superheroes able to reject requests citing “public will”;
If a conglomerate faced trouble, superheroes would immediately distance themselves, even taking action against that conglomerate standing in their way, getting their hands dirty.
In summary: The entire wealthy class controlled superheroes, but specific tycoons or conglomerates might also be fish on the chopping block.
Top superheroes possessed formidable combat power, massive influence, and controlled substantial wealth, becoming hidden tycoons and conglomerates themselves. For these superheroes, they could turn the tables and control other wealthy elites.
To truly elite superheroes, families like the Simmons were insignificant.
Major conglomerates would compete openly and secretly for superhero influence, with the Simmons family clearly having no advantage.
Hence, Ryan Simmons was willing to stake half his fortune and the Simmons family’s future on supporting Phil Simmons’s superhero ambitions.