Chen Xu sat at the computer, scanning through documents and tabs. He'd taken the time to understand this world's game industry landscape—and he knew what direction to head in.
Still, deciding to make a game was the easy part. Actually doing it? Not so much.
Even though game development here was lightyears ahead—no need to write engine code, thanks to government-provided AI tools—things like art, music, and 3D modeling still required manual input. And that was the catch.
Chen Xu didn't have a license as a professional game designer, which meant he had access only to a small portion of development resources. He figured that it was still enough to build some of the smaller indie games from his past life… but there was another problem:
Money.
Living in the outskirts of the city wasn't cheap, and he'd only managed to save around 10,000 yuan since graduating. That wouldn't last long.
He glanced at the system still floating faintly in the corner of his vision. It didn't offer any starter funds or daily bonuses—if he wanted Emotion Points, he'd have to actually release a game and earn them.
"Ruthless," he muttered. "I need to find a way to make money first."
While researching the industry further, he idly clicked around the desktop and noticed a familiar folder. When he opened it, his eyes lit up.
Inside were over a dozen colorful comic strips featuring girls playing water volleyball—bright, energetic, and full of exaggerated poses and expressions. According to the memories he'd inherited, these weren't his own creations. They had been sent to him by a senior from college, who had asked for help finishing them.
Looking at the vivid panels, an idea formed in his mind.
His first game… would be something with instant appeal—and ideally, something that could generate income quickly.
Then he remembered a title from his past life: Mirror.
A simple match-three puzzle game combined with light dating sim elements, Mirror had blown up unexpectedly. It had once been one of the most positively reviewed games on Steam, praised for its addictive mechanics and charming (albeit fanservice-heavy) characters.
It required minimal modeling. Most of its content—character portraits, dialogue, UI—could be handled by a single developer with decent illustration skills.
And marketing? Minimal. Mirror had gone viral almost purely through word of mouth.
For someone in his position—limited money, limited resources, and no dev team—it was the perfect starting point.
Of course, he'd tone down or alter any content that pushed boundaries too far. This wasn't just a passion project anymore—this was the first step in building credibility, earning capital, and activating the Emotion System.
"Still… even with my skills, it'll take time," Chen Xu muttered. "I need help."
But before that—his stomach growled.
"Food first."
He grabbed his keys and phone and headed downstairs to find a bite to eat.
Later… at a local Lanzhou noodle shop.
Chen Xu stared at a slice of beef so thin it was practically translucent.
"Never underestimate the slicing skills at a noodle shop," he muttered with awe, lifting it with his chopsticks. "These guys could probably work in surgery."
The beef glistened in the steaming soup, the texture delicate and tender. Chopped scallions and coriander added just the right flavor, and the noodles themselves had the perfect bounce.
Sure, the beef portion was more symbolic than satisfying, but the meal as a whole? Pure comfort.
Once finished, Chen Xu paid, stepped outside, and dialed a number on his phone.
The line rang a few times before it connected.
"Hey, senior," Chen Xu said cheerfully. "The illustration set you asked for is finished. I'll send it over later."
There was a pause. Then he added, "Also… do you have time tomorrow? I've got something to discuss."
"Sure. Let's meet at Island Café, near the Garden Crossroads," came the reply.
Chen Xu hung up, stretching his arms with a quiet grin.
His first "pot of gold" would come from a reimagined version of Mirror.
But unless he wanted to work non-stop for two months straight, he'd need help.
The Next Day – 1:00 PM, Island Café
The coffee shop was warm and quiet, sunlight filtering through the large glass windows. Near the front, a young woman in her mid-twenties sat alone, headphones on, a casual white jacket draped over her shoulders. Her black-rimmed glasses gave her an intellectual look, though the energy around her was lively and open.
"Thanks for coming, Sister Ruan," Chen Xu said as he walked up.
"No trouble at all. My apartment's nearby," Ruan Ningxue replied with a smile, pulling off her headphones.
Before he could say more, she leaned forward, eyes gleaming. "Wait—don't tell me you've finally come to your senses and decided to join my studio?"
She wasn't joking. "Seriously, comics are a dead-end for newbies," she added. "You should start with fanbooks. That's how most of the big names got started. Even now, many professionals still release side content under pseudonyms. It builds your audience!"
She leaned closer, pointing at him. "I've seen your coloring work. You've got serious talent."
Chen Xu chuckled awkwardly. "I appreciate that, senior, really. But... that's not why I came today."
He took a breath and continued, "I've decided to switch gears—comics aren't the path for me. I want to try game development."
Ruan Ningxue blinked. "Game dev?"
Chen Xu nodded. "Comics, games, novels—they're all just different ways to tell a story. What matters to me is getting the story in front of people. And these days, games might just be the best medium for that."
He explained that in this world, with low technical barriers and advanced AI support, many writers, directors, and artists had already made successful transitions to game design.
"Not that it's easy," he added. "But I'm serious about this."
Ruan stared at him for a moment, then crossed her arms.
"So let me get this straight," she said slowly. "You're not paying for food. You're behind on your last illustration payment. And now, you want me to help you make a game?"
Chen Xu gave an embarrassed laugh.
She narrowed her eyes. "Chen Xu, are you trying to freeload off me?"
If he weren't her junior—and someone she still hoped to recruit—Ruan Ningxue would've stormed out right then. She wasn't about to let someone exploit her talents like some sleazy start-up founder.
"You're starting to sound like one of those evil capitalists," she huffed.
Chen Xu smiled nervously.
Yeah… convincing her was going to take some work