“No way, the visuals can’t maintain this level of quality throughout the film, can they?”

“The sets, props, these special effects—how much money did they burn?”

Lu Xiaoping felt confused because “Mission and Choice” had already far exceeded his expectations in terms of details!

Although Lu Xiaoping had previously heard rumors that Tenda had invested heavily in this new movie, he had just casually listened without taking it seriously.

Because boasting was the industry norm.

Just like ancient military campaigns where an army of ten thousand would be exaggerated to fifty thousand—just throw out inflated numbers first and deceive whoever you can.

For a movie, buying IP rights and hiring big-name actors would consume a huge sum, then after adding promotional and marketing expenses, they’d claim to have invested hundreds of millions, when in reality, the money actually spent on film production was minimal.

Lu Xiaoping had originally thought that no matter how great “Mission and Choice” claimed to be, it was still just a domestic sci-fi film, and the ceiling for domestic sci-fi films had always been there, not particularly high.

But now, Lu Xiaoping was confused.

Was this really a domestic film?

The level of detail was indistinguishable from those big-budget Hollywood blockbusters!

Could it be that “Mission and Choice” had actually saved all the money for IP rights and celebrity actors’ fees, even saved on promotional expenses, and invested every cent directly into the film’s production?

Thinking about this possibility, Lu Xiaoping had only one thought: madness!

This wasn’t just risky; it was suicidal!

If any other production team did this, it would be practically signing their own death warrant. Of course, production teams wouldn’t do this anyway, because investors would absolutely never agree.

But Tenda was different.

Obviously, Fei Huang Studio wasn’t suicidal. They dared to do this because they had strong confidence in “Mission and Choice,” believing that even without conventional promotion, it could still crush all other games in the same release window and break through!

Lu Xiaoping realized that his judgment had been seriously flawed!

Previously, he thought “Mission and Choice” had moved up its release date due to lack of confidence, wanting to avoid the Golden Week slot, but now he realized—how could that be possible?

The quality of this film would dominate even during Golden Week. How could it possibly fear “Raging Sea Battleship”?

The situation was not good…

Lu Xiaoping continued watching with an extremely uneasy heart.

…

The plot that followed could be described as twisting and turning, with climax after climax, without a single dull moment, filled with various reversals that left viewers breathless.

The entire movie’s storyline revolved around the character of Qin Yi, and the audience’s emotions were all driven by this character.

Although it was a one-man show, Lu Zhiyao fully supported this character through his acting skills, perfectly accomplishing the task of stirring the audience’s emotions.

The whole story could be roughly divided into the following stages:

In the first stage, Qin Yi became a commander, learned about the human defeat in previous battles against the insectoids through simulated battles, understood the necessity of communication between the commander and Anseibo, accepted the commander position, and trained diligently.

In the second stage, after becoming fully familiar with the console operations, Qin Yi began simulation training. Everything went smoothly at first, but once “realistic elements” were added, the situation suddenly deteriorated, and the human army collapsed. To improve the success rate, Qin Yi gradually became accustomed to accepting AEEIS’s data and suggestions, slowly turning into an emotionless commanding machine.

In the third stage, Qin Yi witnessed his original AS-371-45 squad executing a mission and ultimately made the same decision as the previous commander. Through conflict and struggle, Qin Yi finally understood the previous commander’s actions and made many painful choices for the sake of victory.

In the fourth stage, everyone believed Qin Yi was ready, but reality cruelly slapped them in the face. In the final battle simulation, even when commanding entirely according to AEEIS’s suggestions, humans still retreated step by step.

Qin Yi nearly collapsed. He no longer believed humans could win this war—regardless of deception or command methods, victory seemed impossible.

In the fifth stage, Qin Yi realized that measuring each person’s value with cold data was wrong. The original command style indeed improved combat efficiency to some extent, but using insectoid tactics against insectoids and trying to turn all soldiers into cold machines was absolutely impossible to succeed. So, Qin Yi chose to tell all soldiers the truth, reigniting everyone’s belief with a speech in desperate circumstances, and the war took a turn again.

In the sixth stage, intense thinking made Qin Yi’s body unbearable. In his coma, he sensed the hive consciousness, and the Insectoid Queen showed him past truths—the war between humans and insectoids was initiated by humans, and the Queen’s actions in the hive were attempts to communicate with Qin Yi, only succeeding now.

Qin Yi outwardly made gestures of reconciliation but actually deceived the Insectoid Queen, executing a decapitation operation that directly secured victory.

In the seventh stage, Qin Yi, who thought the war was over and wanted to withdraw, was betrayed. He drove his command ship into the insectoid swarm in a suicide mission but unexpectedly became the new brain of the swarm after all the secondary queens were decapitated, as he possessed the hive consciousness.

At the end of the film, two mysteries were actually left unresolved.

The first mystery was: who decided to betray Qin Yi—the Executive Committee or AEEIS?

AEEIS’s words to Qin Yi pushed all blame onto the Supreme Executive Committee, creating a sense of “the cunning rabbit dies, and the hunting dog gets cooked.” But in the meeting scene of the Supreme Executive Committee, AEEIS claimed Qin Yi had voluntarily sought death, and the committee members all appeared very regretful.

This obviously presented two possibilities: one was that AEEIS deceived both Qin Yi and the Supreme Executive Committee, effortlessly eliminating a human military genius, clearing obstacles for its future takeover of all human forces; the other was that some members of the Supreme Executive Committee had instructed AEEIS and were putting on a show.

These two possibilities hinted at different sequel directions: either a future “AI crisis” or “civil war.”

The second mystery was that Qin Yi, inside the Leviathan beast, had inherited the hive consciousness, and his body had been modified by the insectoids, turning him into a special life form. As a soldier, he had a natural loyalty to humans but had suffered the most shameful betrayal.

Would Qin Yi choose to lead the insectoid swarm for revenge? Or would he take another path? Could he still be considered human? How would he perceive himself?

These questions obviously would be answered later.

…

The grand space warfare scenes left all viewers breathless; some were even so immersed in the shocking emotions that they forgot to exclaim.

From the initial human defeat when encountering the insectoid swarm, to small-scale realistic training, and finally to the large-scale battles in the vast space and on planetary surfaces…

All war scenes in the movie progressed gradually and continuously escalated. Audiences followed Captain Qin Yi from weak to strong, witnessing step by step the grand, protracted war between humans and insectoids in space.

What shocked Lu Xiaoping was that although this movie had very cool special effects, it clearly wasn’t just about the effects.

The storytelling and emotional engagement of the audience were also excellently done!

While overall the war scenes in the film continuously escalated, the emotional tone of each stage fluctuated constantly, like a wave, with peaks and valleys, presenting a state of spiraling upward through fluctuations, making it completely unpredictable.

Other films often present these contents through conflicts between characters. For example, when facing difficulties, team members with different personalities propose different solutions. Intense arguments make the audience feel irritated, and when everyone finally agrees and overcomes difficulties, the audience feels emotional release.

This is a common routine in many artistic works—although formulaic, it works well and poses little risk.

But in “Mission and Choice,” Lu Zhiyao completely supported the film’s emotional tone through his own performance and his interactions with the cold, electronic voice of AEEIS!

This feeling reminded Lu Xiaoping of a one-man show film from a couple of years ago, which told the story of a protagonist buried alive in a coffin in the desert, constantly exploring and using various tools around him to survive, ultimately believing dawn had come, only to be met with despair.

In that film, it was also a one-man show throughout, yet it brought continuous suspense to the audience. The unique perspective, superb cinematography, and twisting plot made the film a box office miracle that year, earning $20 million on a budget of just $3 million—a huge success.

And “Mission and Choice” shared some similarities with that film.

The protagonists of both films were trapped in confined spaces, facing unknown fates while struggling hard. Despite repeated failures, they remained resilient.

They both withstood the test of acting in a one-man show, supporting the entire film’s emotional arc by themselves, and perfectly immersing the audience in the film.

This kind of performance was very challenging, like a high-stakes gamble, putting all chips on a single game—once successful, it pays off handsomely, but failure means losing everything.

The difference between the two was in their emotional tones.

The buried protagonist was in a coffin, extremely narrow, and the despair he endured came from both mental and physical torture. The audience, like the protagonist, had severely limited vision and was in a cramped, oppressive, desperate state throughout.

Qin Yi, although in a space pod, could see the real situation around him through the holographic bulkhead, with no visual limitations whatsoever. The despair he endured was more of a mental torture—the pain of bearing humanity’s fate alone.

Both performances were severe tests of acting skills, but Lu Zhiyao’s performance seemed more challenging.

Because most of Qin Yi’s despair came from mental sources, the entire set and environment couldn’t contribute much to his emotional atmosphere. At this point, engaging the audience emotionally relied entirely on Lu Zhiyao’s performance.

Fortunately, Lu Zhiyao completed the task excellently, delivering his most perfect performance since his debut.

It even made Lu Xiaoping feel that he wasn’t seeing Lu Zhiyao but another person, or… Captain Qin Yi himself!

Since finishing “Beautiful Tomorrow,” Lu Zhiyao’s acting skills had progressed rapidly, as if he had leveled up.

Previously, many people criticized Lu Zhiyao as “box office poison” with “overly forced acting,” but from “Beautiful Tomorrow” to “Mission and Choice,” Lu Zhiyao’s acting seemed to continuously improve, becoming more restrained rather than exaggerated. Those exaggerated expressions were all gone, replaced by more nuanced psychology and carefully designed micro-expressions—he seemed to have completely merged with the character!

In the final scene of the film, Qin Yi woke up in the hatching pool inside the Leviathan beast, his eyes suddenly opening, with the camera giving a close-up.

His eyes seemed to contain many complex emotions.

Actually, at the beginning of the film, there was also such a close-up, except then Qin Yi was waking up from a hibernation pod, while at the end, he was waking up in the hatching pool inside the Leviathan beast.

The two gazes seemed to have some commonalities, but the background, the protagonist’s appearance, subtle expressions, especially the look in his eyes, were worlds apart.

The hibernation pod and hatching pool were like wombs—this shot clearly symbolized Qin Yi’s rebirth.

Except in these two lives, Qin Yi played the roles of human commander and the heart of the insectoid swarm, respectively.

Just like at the beginning of the film, this expression at the end also lasted for several seconds before cutting to the next shot.

His consciousness spread rapidly through space, with all the larvae in the hatching pool surrounding him, becoming extensions of his consciousness.

Then, the camera quickly pulled back to the space outside the Leviathan beast. This terrifying insectoid beast, aimlessly drifting in space, suddenly opened its eyes and accelerated forward into the endless cosmos!

Countless insectoids followed behind the Leviathan beast, like a comet trailing a long tail, disappearing into the depths of the screen.

The movie ended here, with the credits appearing on the big screen.

The end credits song began—a passionate battle song describing a soldier about to depart for the battlefield.

Originally, this song should have been very inspiring, but accompanied by scenes of human soldiers cleaning up the aftermath and the Leviathan beast carrying Qin Yi finally disappearing into space, it gave the song a strangely melancholic meaning.

With a “click,” the cinema lights came on.

Many viewers finally awoke as if from a dream, with exclamations of “holy shit” and “awesome” heard continuously!

“Damn, that was incredible!”

“I never expected that ending!”

“I’m still craving more—this ticket was so worth it!”

When “Beautiful Tomorrow” premiered, most viewers felt impressed but confused.

Because “Beautiful Tomorrow” was quite subtle on many key issues, and as a drama film, it didn’t have many memorable grand scenes. After watching it, you’d feel a bit stuck, needing to read reviews and savor it carefully to understand its deeper meaning.

But “Mission and Choice” was an unadulterated popcorn movie, filled with grand space warfare scenes throughout, emotions rolling up and down like a roller coaster, with lows and peaks, giving an extremely stimulating emotional experience.

So, after watching “Mission and Choice,” the majority of viewers’ feelings could be summarized in two words: “fucking awesome”!

This sensory impact was more direct and intense, especially the final scene of Qin Yi’s gaze paired with the end credits song, which gave the audience a final emotional release, reaching the peak of satisfaction while leaving a lingering aftertaste.

Viewers stood up one after another, eagerly sharing their viewing experiences with companions.

“That was amazing! Domestic sci-fi film special effects can reach this level? It’s truly comparable to Hollywood blockbusters! I watched the whole thing with my eyes dazzled, never once feeling disconnected!”

“As expected, Tenda’s films are just incredible! They never disappoint!”

“This film deserves hundreds of millions in promotion, right? Too bad the promotion was a bit lacking, and the screening allocation wasn’t high.”

“It doesn’t matter—would a film of this quality worry about not becoming popular?”

“The final handling of Qin Yi was really exciting. I thought it would be the cliché of different species reconciling and building a beautiful universe together. So satisfying!”

“Lu Zhiyao acted really well. It feels like Mr. Pei has Lu Zhiyao’s user manual! Previously a box office poison, now his acting has visibly improved—he truly has that best actor feeling!”

The audience was full of praise. Clearly, the actual effect of this film far exceeded their psychological expectations!

Although viewers came to see the film for various reasons, most didn’t have many unrealistic expectations.

Everyone knew the state of domestic sci-fi films. If the producer of “Mission and Choice” wasn’t Tenda but some other company, even some wealthy big companies, viewers wouldn’t have come to see the midnight premiere as guinea pigs.

Because no company could earn such high trust from audiences like Tenda.

Plus, the film didn’t have much promotion to begin with, so most viewers thought it might be a “small but beautiful” film—one with enough merits but also obvious flaws.

But after watching the film, they discovered it wasn’t like that at all. The film exceeded everyone’s expectations in all aspects!

This mentality unconsciously elevated viewers’ evaluation of “Mission and Choice.”

It’s like dining at a restaurant—for similarly delicious food, if it’s at a highly praised restaurant hyped online, customers might feel it doesn’t live up to its reputation. But if accidentally found in a nameless small shop in an alley, customers would be particularly delighted and unforgettable!

Lu Xiaoping and the promotion manager for “Raging Sea Battleship” didn’t immediately stand up with the other viewers but fell into silence.

From the start of the film until now, neither had spoken a word.

The manager was shocked by the film. Originally drowsy, he was now very excited, especially with the final scene lingering in his mind, the images refusing to fade away.

Although “Mission and Choice” was a competitor’s film, and the better it performed, the worse the situation for “Raging Sea Battleship,” the manager temporarily had no mood to consider this because he was completely conquered by the film, feeling only sincere admiration from the bottom of his heart!

After a long while, the manager finally said, “There shouldn’t be… any post-credits scene, right?”

Lu Xiaoping nodded silently: “Hmm… probably not.”

The manager said, “Then, Mr. Lu, shall we go?”

Lu Xiaoping: “Let’s go…”

His mood was extremely low.

They had come to watch the midnight premiere with the attitude of seeing a joke, but never expected to become the joke themselves.

There were still quite a few viewers who hadn’t left, obviously waiting for a post-credits scene.

But Lu Xiaoping judged there shouldn’t be any post-credits scene. On one hand, the cinema lights had come on as a hint; on the other hand, the entire story had been told very clearly, with no need for a post-credits scene to preheat the next part of the story.

Strictly speaking, the story should have ended when Qin Yi was betrayed and sent into the insectoid swarm by AEEIS.

The Supreme Executive Committee meeting and Qin Yi waking up inside the Leviathan beast—these two plot points would have been more suitable as post-credits scenes.

But these two plot points were too important, and their duration was also quite long. If made into post-credits scenes, there would be a sense of disconnection. So after careful consideration, Zhu Xiaocai still put these two plot points at the end of the film, pairing them with the end credits song to great effect.

Lu Xiaoping made his judgment based on this reason—the film shouldn’t have a post-credits scene.

But just as the two were about to leave, some images appeared beside the scrolling credits.

The film didn’t have a post-credits scene, but it had something else.

These were some of Lu Zhiyao’s NG (Not Good) shots during filming!

He faced the green screen, saying his lines over and over again, trying different approaches to perform, sometimes stopping midway when dissatisfied, continuously repeating.

For the same emotion, Lu Zhiyao would perform at least five or six different versions, carefully selecting the most satisfying one after tasting them all.

There were also shots of Lu Zhiyao rehearsing lines with AEEIS, the fully automated intelligent argument machine.

In the viewers’ eyes, many of Lu Zhiyao’s performances were already very good, but Lu Zhiyao himself was still dissatisfied, continuing to perform again and again, striving for perfection in every segment.

Although these shots were good on their own, compared to those in the actual film, they paled in comparison.

The remaining viewers were mostly die-hard fans. Although the cinema lights were already on, they still insisted on watching until the end, holding onto the thought, “What if there’s a post-credits scene?”

Unexpectedly, they were rewarded with a pleasant surprise!

“Damn, how many times does the same shot need to be filmed?”

“Lu Zhiyao is so intense. It feels like he’s almost in a trance, saying the same lines in several different ways, each better than the last. Compare this to those little fresh meat actors who don’t even memorize their lines and just count 1-2-3-4-5-6-7 to match lip movements—the difference is obvious!”

“Actually, strictly speaking, although Lu Zhiyao is professionally trained, he didn’t have much acting skill initially. He was better than the little fresh meats, but not by much. The difference is that unlike the little fresh meats, he wasn’t satisfied with fan adulation but continuously demanded strict standards from himself, honing his acting skills, which is why he could bring us such brilliant performances in ‘Beautiful Tomorrow’ and ‘Mission and Choice’!”

“Indeed, Lu Zhiyao’s acting improvement is visible to the naked eye. This movie ticket was so worth it—absolute value for money!”

“Some people were saying Lu Zhiyao rode on Tenda’s script for ‘Beautiful Tomorrow’ and that his acting was carried by Zhang Zuting. Now that argument should collapse on its own, right?”

“Indeed, one person supporting a film with hundreds of millions in investment—there’s no need to discuss billing order because there’s only one actor!”

“Now Lu Zhiyao should be able to shed the ‘box office poison’ title, right? With such good performances in two consecutive films, he’ll likely become a worthy best actor in the future!”

Viewers expressed their admiration. Even those who originally had no feelings for Lu Zhiyao were genuinely happy for his progress.

In recent years, there have been more and more traffic-driven films, with various fresh meat actors delivering performances that repeatedly break through the bottom line in so-called “big productions,” which many viewers have long been disgusted with.

Lu Zhiyao, on the other hand, had taken a completely different path from those traffic fresh meats. Though he could have relied on his looks, he insisted on relying on talent, putting in unimaginable effort for it—how could people not like him?

Finally, the final credits and Lu Zhiyao’s NG shots were all played out.

The few remaining viewers finally left satisfied, not letting their hands rest, quickly posting on social media to rave about the film.

Lu Xiaoping and the “Raging Sea Battleship” manager walked out in a daze, as if they had lost their souls.

On one hand, they were shocked by the content of the film; on the other hand, after watching “Mission and Choice,” they felt extremely worried about the current situation of Fanqi Media and “Raging Sea Battleship.”

In a moment of impulse, what a terrifying opponent they had provoked!

There would be a price to pay for trying to ride the coattails of such a film.

Lu Xiaoping’s plan was entirely based on the premise that “Mission and Choice” would be of poor quality, which is why he tried to exploit it to boost buzz for “Raging Sea Battleship.”

But if the two films were compared and “Raging Sea Battleship” was utterly crushed, all the buzz they had gained before would backfire!

If “Raging Sea Battleship” won, it would be seen as powerful and confident, but if it lost, it would be seen as sour grapes, a mere clown.

This feeling was like a boxer getting into the ring, originally thinking the opponent was a weakling, talking trash before the match, boasting confidently, only to find that when the opponent took off his coat, his arms were thicker than your thighs.

What the hell could you do then?!

The two were speechless, both knowing that the situation was already bad enough, but in reality, all of this was just beginning!