It wasn’t until Lin You had fully indulged in his Yan Shuangying fantasy and was about to take a break that he noticed the messages on his phone.
After browsing online for a while, Lin You roughly understood what was going on.
Part of it was due to the demo stage being too short, but another part was simply that players in this world hadn’t been exposed to this kind of game before and couldn’t immediately embrace it.
In the history of gaming in this world, there had hardly been any massively popular casual games, let alone games with artistic merit.
The idea that “games are the ninth art” didn’t even exist here.
Ultimately, it all came down to the industry’s development being too short and lacking depth.
This was precisely why ill-intentioned competitors had seized the opportunity to manipulate the media and stir up this wave of criticism.
It was indeed his oversight.
The simplest way to reverse this trend now would be to unlock more stages for players—or even directly release a full version of Journey with multi-device compatibility, allowing players to experience the complete game. That might salvage some of the reputation.
Otherwise, if they waited too long and players’ impressions solidified, even releasing the full version might not make a difference.
This was also why Qin Songyun and Xiao chun were so anxious.
But Lin You had no intention of doing that.
“Old Qin, how are the equipment production talks going?” Lin You asked in the group chat.
“Pretty smooth. The three manufacturers we’ve approached are all quite interested. But I want to check a few more to compare and ensure we can maintain quality while also securing future expansion capacity,” Qin Songyun replied. “I’m at the fourth one now. I’ll have a final choice for you soon.”
“Got it. Then just focus on that. Don’t worry about the nonsense online.”
“Don’t worry about it?” Both Xiao chun and Qin Songyun were surprised.
“Admittedly, I didn’t think this through, and they took advantage of that. But it doesn’t matter—our current production capacity can’t meet demand anyway. Even with the current output, everything will sell out instantly. So this backlash can’t really hurt us. By the time we have surplus stock, public opinion will have already shifted.”
Lin You remained calm. “The only thing we need to do is endure the online noise for a while.”
Qin Songyun fell silent, but Xiao chun was still puzzled. “Someone took advantage? You mean someone’s attacking you online? Who?”
Having been out of the workplace for two years, she’d lost her sensitivity to these kinds of schemes. By the time she noticed, the narrative had already taken shape, so she hadn’t picked up on any foul play.
It wasn’t until Lin You mentioned it that she realized this wasn’t organic player discussion—it was a coordinated attack.
“I have a guess,” Lin You said, immediately pinning the blame on NetDragon in his mind. “We’ll see if they show their hand.”
“Anyway, let’s all focus on what we need to do. Getting the equipment produced and onto the market is what really matters. If we don’t, even if we turn the tide this time, there’ll just be another wave later. So we need to move fast.”
The trio’s group chat fell silent again.
That said, Lin You still felt a little irritated.
So he turned to the shooting range staff nearby. “Do you guys have a Gatling gun with blue flames?”
The staff member gave him a look like he was an idiot.
Just then, Lin You noticed someone approaching from a distance. As the figure got closer, he recognized He Peng—the man who had accompanied the Classified Patent Bureau to meet him and purchase his patent license.
Come to think of it, this guy was his financial backer—no, his client.
Was he here to shoot too?
“No, I don’t need to come here for that. I’m here to see you.”
Lin You was puzzled. “Me? Is there a problem with the equipment production?”
He Peng shook his head, leading him toward the rest area as he replied, “Production’s going smoothly. It took some effort to decipher your technical documents, but once we figured it out, everything went into production without a hitch.”
“So the issue is with the software?”
“Right. Our engineers built the environmental simulation software. The realism is almost indistinguishable from reality, and minor discrepancies in details shouldn’t cause any issues—except for one area where the differences are too significant.”
But as long as the programming was detailed enough, unless someone scrutinized the minutiae, it shouldn’t affect usability.
“Firearms,” He Peng answered succinctly.
Lin You immediately understood. Soldiers trained day in and day out with their weapons. They were intimately familiar with them—not just their appearance and structure, but also the feel of holding them.
When they trained in the virtual environment, the moment they picked up a gun, something felt off.
They couldn’t pinpoint exactly what was wrong, but the sense of dissonance was undeniable, severely disrupting their immersion.
And this kind of tactile feedback was extremely difficult to replicate through data alone.
“So that’s why we came to you. We need your technical expertise.”
“No problem,” Lin You agreed. “But I’ll need hands-on experience with these weapons to achieve full simulation.”
“That’s easy. When are you free?”
“Right now works. I’ll be busy with the next game soon, so better to get this done while I have time.”
Lin You was genuinely excited about this opportunity! With firsthand experience handling all these weapons—plus the chance to study combat simulations designed by military experts—he could totally make a battlefield game!
A virtual reality game with hyper-realistic weapon mechanics across all categories! Battlefield—you’re the one!
You players don’t like casual games? You just want mindless pew-pew-pew?
Fine! Just wait—I’ll shove a bunch of shooters in your faces!
With that, Lin You followed He Peng and left the shooting range.
Meanwhile, spurred on by the lead designer, NetDragon’s marketing department launched the second phase of their plan: promoting Blazing Flame 3.
Just as online discussions were starting to die down, NetDragon’s official account—silent for days—suddenly sprang back to life with a post:
“Game developers should pour all their effort into creating works that satisfy players—not cobble together a half-baked, woefully incomplete ‘travel simulator’ in a matter of days to deceive them! Such behavior betrays players’ trust and expectations!”
“The latest installment in the Blazing Flame series—Blazing Flame 3—will officially release two weeks from today! With a story length, map scale, weapon variety, and combat scope that surpasses its predecessors, this is a true labor of passion! Stay tuned!”
Below the post, they dropped the Blazing Flame 3 trailer—packed with intense gunfights, car crashes, and explosions, relentlessly stimulating players’ senses and stoking their excitement.
Countless players instantly lost their minds.
What? NetDragon’s shady past?
People who didn’t play NetDragon games obviously cared.
But for longtime fans, it was a different story:
“That’s on the company’s garbage management! Don’t blame the devs—especially not the Blazing Flame team! They didn’t do anything wrong!”
The Blazing Flame fanbase was massive, and they quickly sparked a wave of hype for Blazing Flame 3 across gaming circles.
Journey was swiftly forgotten.
NetDragon’s marketing push was a resounding success!
Little did they know, Qin Songyun had already picked up his phone, ready to make his move.
They were about to face a brutal backstab from the former lead designer of the Blazing Flame series!
（End of Chapter）