July 25, 1977 — Galaxy Games Company (星河游戏公司).
Inside the office, Lin Baicheng swept his gaze across the managers seated before him.
"Everyone, I hope you remember this day. It's a special one — because today marks the release of our company's very first self-developed arcade game, Hong Kong Blocks!
I hope all of you will work together to make this launch a success. Only if our game sells well can the company expand — and only then can you all earn promotions and higher pay. It's a win for everyone."
A few words of encouragement were enough. Lin then turned to Liu Yihui:
"Old Liu, you're in charge of contacting our old factory clients. Try to make sure all forty-plus arcade halls in Hong Kong have at least one of our machines.
This time, our company guarantees a one-week full refund policy — as long as the machine isn't intentionally damaged, arcade owners can return it within one week for a full refund.
Of course, since our funds are limited, each arcade hall can only have one refundable unit under this policy. Make sure your staff clearly explain that to the owners so there won't be disputes later."
The refund campaign was designed to boost confidence and open the market. It might seem normal decades later, but in 1977, almost no company offered such a generous "money-back guarantee."
"Don't worry, President Lin," Liu replied. "All the arcade owners in Hong Kong have worked with our factory before. With a one-week refund guarantee, I can promise every single one of them will buy at least one machine."
He wasn't exaggerating. Without the refund policy, he wouldn't dare make such a claim — but with it, he was certain.
After all, Galaxy Games wasn't some unknown startup. Its predecessor factory had already done business with these arcade operators. They knew they could trust Lin's team — and if they wanted a refund, they'd know where to find them.
With that assurance, every owner would definitely buy one unit. Their reasoning was simple: even if the game isn't fun, we can return it within a week with no loss. During that week, they might even make some profit while customers tried it out.
And if the game turned out to be good? Even better — they'd have made a sound investment.
In short, there was no way for the arcade owners to lose money — only to make it.
Lin continued giving orders.
"Team Leader Pan, Captain Wu — one of you handles delivery of the machines to the arcades as fast as possible, the other handles security. Security is top priority — we can't have problems during delivery or at the factory itself."
"Yes, sir!"
Both Pan Aiguo and Wu Jianjun responded in unison.
Finally, Lin turned to his sister, Lin Shufang:
"Sis, you're in charge of finance. Make sure the accounts are kept clean. Every machine must be paid for upon delivery — no credit. If the payment is in cash, check carefully to avoid counterfeit bills."
"I will, little brother," she nodded.
Lin clapped his hands, smiling.
"Alright, everyone — let's get moving! Go, go!"
The team left the office energized. They all knew how crucial this launch was — it could determine the future of the company, and their own futures with it. If the game sold well, Galaxy Games would expand; if it didn't, no one would benefit.
Liu Yihui, the factory director, usually oversaw operations, but whenever a new arcade game was about to launch, he also handled client relations with arcade owners. He knew every arcade boss in Hong Kong.
Back in his office, he immediately began calling them one by one — informing them that the company's new game was ready for release and reassuring them of the one-week refund guarantee.
Thanks to that policy, every arcade owner decided to buy — though most only bought one unit.
Each arcade machine was priced at HK$5,000, about US$1,200 — not a small amount in 1977. Without the refund policy, few would have dared to take that risk.
Most arcade owners typically only bought games that were already proven hits elsewhere. Only a few were ever willing to be the "first to eat the crab," as the saying goes.
Galaxy Games priced its machines at HK$5,000, with a production cost of about HK$2,800 per unit (since production scale was still small). That meant a profit of roughly HK$2,200 — or over US$500 — for every machine sold.
The arcade industry, it turned out, was incredibly profitable.
And Lin hadn't even set a high price. From his research, an Atari arcade cabinet sold in Hong Kong for around HK$7,000, roughly HK$2,000 more than his machines. That HK$2,000 difference was about the same as Galaxy's per-unit profit margin.
But that was expected — Atari was an established American giant, trusted by players and arcade owners alike, so their machines naturally commanded a premium.
Galaxy Games, on the other hand, was a brand-new company. Although Lin had great confidence in Hong Kong Blocks, he wasn't foolish enough to overprice it. Setting it at HK$5,000 — the standard rate for most arcades — was a strategic move to break into the market quickly.
By the end of the day, all 50 completed machines had been sold. The forty-some arcade halls in Hong Kong bought one machine each, with a few larger venues buying two.
But Lin knew the first day's sales didn't mean success. The true test would come after the one-week refund period. Only if none of the buyers returned their machines — or, better yet, started ordering more — could Hong Kong Blocks and Galaxy Games be considered a true success.
Still, Lin was confident. He ordered the factory to continue assembling the remaining 50 machines and to contact suppliers to prepare for larger-scale production.
However, given the uncertain situation, Lin didn't dare spend the newly earned cash just yet. If many customers suddenly decided to return their machines and the company had already used up the money on raw materials, it could spell disaster.