The next Monday, John Wayne woke up in the morning, freshened up, put on his clothes, slung his bag over his back, grabbed a sandwich, and headed out. He still had classes today.
He was now a sophomore in the Department of Computer Science at Cambridge University, and he had to attend classes—otherwise, his mother Lena Dane would be furious. He remembered how she had to work two jobs to support him through middle school and college, leaving no time for a social life or dating.
Though John wasn't Lena's biological son originally, he had fully accepted all the memories and emotions of William Dane. The two had completely merged. His feelings for his mother hadn't changed one bit — he sincerely admired and was grateful to Lena.
He was both William Dane and John Wayne now, and he didn't want to see Lena sad. Staying in school and learning was the best thing he could do. There was so much technology and science knowledge packed into his mind that he still hadn't fully absorbed. Fortunately, he could ask professors or consult the library at Cambridge, though he hadn't yet figured out exactly how to apply all that knowledge.
It was the year 2000. Even if he knew from his past life which companies and technologies would generate money, he had neither capital nor full technical mastery. He was still a poor student struggling to get by. Suddenly, an idea struck him—something that felt like a breakthrough technology. But he knew better than to think too long about it. Any powerful invention would draw powerful enemies who might suppress, threaten, or steal it. Worse, the government might even arrest him for tampering with technology.
As for magic, he didn't dare use it openly. His current strength couldn't protect him. Guns were still the real power. If he wanted to become a wealthy man of integrity, he had to stay under the radar. It was better to keep a low profile, work quietly, and avoid drawing attention.
He hadn't learned magic to rule the world—he couldn't—and still thought only of improving life for himself and his mother Lena.
January marked the start of the second semester at Cambridge University. John Wayne rushed to the department's classroom, his shoulder bag slung carelessly. Soon, he spotted Professor Roy Stephens holding a cup of coffee and a stack of books as he entered.
In 2000, there was no cloud computing or big data, and artificial intelligence was in its infancy. Professor Stephens lectured on fundamentals John had recently absorbed through the Marvel Universe System. Though John was only a sophomore, having fully integrated William's memories, his mind was sharper than before.
He followed the entire class effortlessly and still felt there was much more to learn when the lecture ended.
John hadn't yet figured out how to change his situation. The solution shouldn't be too complicated or advanced—something like developing a game. That wouldn't affect his current life much and wouldn't draw attention. No one would target him just for making a game.
After class, John sat on a bench by the campus lawn, staring at the grass and thinking about ways to make money.
He overheard two female students passing by.
"The zombie movie I watched last night scared me so much—I was afraid to sleep alone in the dorm," one said.
"Same here. I was scared all night and couldn't concentrate in class," replied the other.
John looked at the two attractive girls. His eyes gleamed. It was January, yet they wore skirts. English women were fearless in the cold—and very beautiful. No wonder short skirts were popular.
When they disappeared from view, John's gaze drifted back to the dry grass. Then, a thought suddenly struck him.
"Plants vs. Zombies," he muttered. I can make that.
Although Plants vs. Zombies would only become popular on smartphones years later, a desktop version was perfectly feasible in 2000. Even with simple pixels, LAN games like Counter-Strike ran smoothly. Running a small game was definitely possible.
In the late 90s, standalone games were very popular, especially in Europe and America. Unlike in Greater China, where online games dominated, there was a huge market for single-player games. The future success of Plants vs. Zombies proved the genre's appeal.
John realized he could develop a standalone version himself. Though his current skills made it challenging, he had the System. Any obstacles could be overcome by consulting the system's knowledge, asking professors, or researching in the library.
Excited, John shouted happily, startling the nearby students who quickly moved away.
He didn't care. Snatching his bag, he ran back to his dorm.
Inside, John booted his old computer, quickly drafted a plan, then started programming, pausing occasionally to absorb more knowledge from the system in his mind.
For ten days, John worked tirelessly, shuttling between the library, classrooms, and dormitory. He sought out professors more often than in his freshman year. His understanding grew with every milestone in game development.
Finally, the game slowly took shape.
John proudly stared at the files on his screen, elated. But a new problem arose: how to promote Plants vs. Zombies without money or connections? After pondering, he decided the first step was securing copyright registration.
Registering the story and game copyright would protect him when promoting the game. He would avoid being hacked or copied. Capitalists didn't reason—they just crushed competition.
John found a phone booth on campus and called the copyright office number from the yellow pages.
"Hello, am I speaking to the copyright office?" John asked when connected.
"Yes, this is the copyright office. How may I assist you?" a female voice replied.
"My name is William Dane. I have a game I'd like to register for copyright—for both the game and the story," John said.
"Great, I'm Katie. Is your game original or adapted?" she asked.
"It's original," John replied.
"That's perfect. You can first register the story copyright, then the game copyright. It's best to organize your story manuscript and your game design together. This will help your application," Katie explained.
"Thank you, I understand. What is your copyright office address?"
"London, 11 Catherine Street. We accept applications Monday through Friday. You can find instructions on our official website, and you may book an appointment by phone. The earliest available slot is the day after tomorrow," Katie replied.
"Okay, thank you. I'll make an appointment now," John said eagerly.
"May I have your full name, please?"
"William Dane."
"All set. You can come after 8 a.m. the day after tomorrow. Just report your name at reception."
"Thanks, Katie. Have a good afternoon."
"You're welcome. Goodbye."
John hung up, returned to his dorm, and reviewed the submission procedures and notes on the official website.
On the third day, John organized all the documents according to the registration requirements he'd copied from the website. After class, he took a bus to 11 Catherine Street to file his copyright application.