Chapter 135 – Expanding Business

Ever since running into the barrel of a gun, not just Thousand Mountains, but the entire Holy Light Sanctuary had been unusually quiet for a while. They didn’t retaliate against the taunts and ridicule from players on other servers on the forums, just kept their heads down and played within their own server, as if they had truly changed their mindset and were biding their time. The troublemakers found their punches landing on cotton and soon grew bored, turning their attention to other gossip whirlpools. Strangely enough, during this period, there really wasn’t any gossip worth spectating. At most, some server would occasionally drop a purple-tier gear and brag about it, but since it wasn’t the first time, no matter how rare or difficult it was, it couldn’t really shock anyone.

Over time, the forums actually entered a rare period of peace.

But beneath this peace, who knew how many undercurrents were hidden? How many originally insignificant servers were quietly changing in strength due to the influx of new blood and the return of old players, reshuffling the power dynamics—only the players within those servers could truly feel it. Stable as Huaxia Summit was, with no external worries or internal conflicts, the skies were blue, the waters clear, and the only way to pass the time was grinding endgame dungeons for purple-tier gear.

After countless rounds of trial and error, at the cost of countless lives from both legion allies and outsiders, Fang Zheng had finally figured out the timing to exploit the boss’s mechanics. Nine out of ten times, he could successfully cancel the boss’s ultimate skill, and three times, they barely scraped through the dungeon, with one particularly smooth run. In terms of skill, they were becoming increasingly proficient. However, the boss died very unwillingly, so—

I just won’t drop purple-tier gear, what can you do about it?

Dungeon drops were actually about luck. No matter how many scholarly players told you it was a matter of probability, you had to believe—it was about luck. So, in the realm of luck, where the Ghost Server Legion Leader had no achievements to speak of, he was naturally blamed as the culprit behind the “Ten Dark Runs of the Endgame Dungeon.”

The Legion Leader was depressed. So depressed that for a few days, he didn’t feel like playing with his buddies. Coincidentally, the forums were quiet during that time too, so the bored Ghost Leader idly browsed around and discovered a business opportunity~\(≧▽≦)/~

It was an MMORPG imported from overseas. Promotions had started as early as two years ago, but it had always been all talk and no action. Who knew if they were trying to emulate Apple’s hunger marketing strategy, but it had certainly whetted the appetite of domestic players. From the trailers, the game’s graphics could absolutely obliterate 90% of the games on the market. Even a veteran like Huaxia had to admit it was slightly inferior in terms of polish. Of course, good graphics required good hardware. If your PC stuttered even in Audition Online, forget about max settings—you probably couldn’t run it even with everything turned off.

And now, this game—which, like a Wong Kar-wai film, you never knew when it would actually release—had finally launched its non-wipe closed beta!

As a player, Fang Zheng wasn’t very interested in this game. Back when Mirage Server was a ghost town, he hadn’t left, and now, with a group of close-knit friends—even Big H, White Dragon Horse, and War-Snow Wolf were starting to look handsomer than before—he had even less reason to leave. But as a businessman, this was a golden opportunity!

A non-wipe closed beta meant the game publisher would first invite a limited number of players to test the game. As they played, any issues or bugs encountered would be adjusted, fixed, retested, readjusted, and refixed until the game was deemed stable enough for an open beta. By then, many of the closed beta players would already be high-level, giving them a head start. Because of this, beta keys were usually limited—you had to receive an invitation code from the publisher to register and log in. These codes could only be obtained through events, and the drop rate was abysmally low. This created a vicious cycle where eager players would scramble for codes but fail to get one, making them even more desperate. Of course, this viciousness only applied to players—for the publishers, this was their favorite scenario. The more anticipation built up, the more explosive the popularity would be at launch, and the more money they’d make.

Fang Zheng’s plan was simple. Huaxia’s event to recall old players and attract new ones was gradually losing steam, and their orders were declining. Expanding into new business territory was imperative, so they’d start with this game. The main process was: obtain invitation codes, create accounts, level them up, and then resell them. Of course, since they were selling accounts, they had to put some thought into the leveling process—from naming to character customization, everything had to be aesthetically pleasing. Industry jargon called this “presentation.” Imagine a girl looking to buy an account: one was named Hyacinth, the other Toe-Picking Burly Dude—which would she choose? =_=

Fang Zheng’s idea was met with approval and support from Birdy, Fifth Brother, and even Hou Cong. Chang Xiaohu, as usual, had no opinions—whatever the boss said was fine. For a small group of three to five people, once the idea was set, they could roll up their sleeves and get to work.

Apart from Diamond, who still had a power-leveling order to fulfill, the rest of them threw themselves into the battle for invitation codes. Whether it was reposting and tagging friends on Weibo or participating in quiz events, they registered hundreds of dummy accounts each, working harder than elementary school students on homework.

After three sleepless days and nights, the list of winners for the invitation codes was finally announced. The group took out a densely printed A4 sheet filled with dummy account IDs and began cross-referencing one by one…

“How’s it looking?” Fifth Brother, the eldest, was the first to give up. He didn’t want to admit he was getting old, but damn, his eyes were blurry TAT

Fang Zheng had already finished checking. Hearing the question, he put down the A4 sheet and sighed faintly, “The winning IDs rained down on me like bullets, and I dodged every single one.”

Diamond, who was still power-leveling an account in Huaxia, gloated, “Tsk, if making money were this easy, there’d be no poor people~~”

Fang Zheng was just about to ask Birdy how his search was going when a knock came at the door. Before he could respond, Hou Cong and Chang Xiaohu from the other room walked in.

“Done checking?” Fang Zheng asked. “Any hits?”

Hou Cong nodded. “Yeah.”

Fang Zheng was overjoyed. “How many?”

Hou Cong: “Two.”

This success rate…

Hou Cong: “Both were Xiaohu’s.”

This success rate was too high =_=

Xiaohu, so you were the true king of luck!

“Forget it,” Fifth Brother got up to pour a glass of water for the Legion Leader as a form of consolation. “Better a sprat than a herring—at least we got a consolation prize.”

The Legion Leader really wasn’t in the mood for water. “Two codes won’t sell for much. The effort and output are completely disproportionate!”

Birdy, who had been quiet all this time, spoke up calmly, “These events are just gimmicks. The odds are lower than dropping purple-tier gear. I told you that from the start.”

He wasn’t wrong, but adding fuel to the fire at a time like this was just asking for the depressed chubby to turn into a blazing fireball. “Yes, yes, you’re always right! You’re the infallible prophet, your advice is golden, and now everything you said came true! Happy now? Thrilled? Proud of yourself?!”

Birdy didn’t say anything, just stared at him steadily.

Fang Zheng felt guilty under his gaze and awkwardly looked away, already regretting snapping at Birdy. And besides, what he’d said was…

“Not bad,” Birdy replied after some serious contemplation.

God damn it, my brain must’ve been crushed by a door for me to fall for this guy TAT

The sight of the Legion Leader tugging at his own hair in frustration put Birdy in a great mood, and he had the urge to grab him and ruffle him up. But with the bear, monkey, and tiger all present, he had to restrain himself.

Clicking his mouse, he copied and pasted the message he’d just received in the chat window into a text file and saved it. Then he stood up and stretched his neck. “I’ve got thirty invitation codes here. Six per person, let’s get leveling.”

Fifth Brother: “…”

Diamond: “…”

Hou Cong: “…”

Fang Zheng: “You got… thirty?!”

Chang Xiaohu: “Did you hack the event website?”

Faced with five pairs of innocent, wide eyes, Meng Chudong suddenly felt a pang of despair for his entrepreneurial future =_=

He turned his monitor to face his partners. The Taobao page was still open, clearly displaying the price: XX game invitation codes, 150 yuan each, the lowest price online, fake ones compensated tenfold.

Fang Zheng: “150 times 30… that’s 4,500 yuan…”

Diamond: “Tsk, who knows how much a leveled account can sell for? Not exactly profitable.”

Fifth Brother: “Actually, the invitation codes are more valuable. But for a closed beta, codes are usually in short supply, so low-level accounts are easier to sell. But with each code costing 150, plus labor, we’d have to sell each account for at least 250 just to break even.”

Hou Cong: “250 shouldn’t be too hard, but then we’d barely make any profit.”

Birdy: “There’s a skill in this world called bargaining…”

The masses: “Tsk, how much can you even bargain down? How much did you buy them for?”

Birdy: “89.”

The masses knelt: “Did you haggle the seller to death…”

The leveling work for the new game proceeded smoothly. Since the game itself was quite fun, everyone was motivated. Once one account was maxed, they’d start another, always with new things to discover. Along the way, they even dropped some good gear, most of which they sold. While they hadn’t made big bucks, it was a decent start.

Perhaps feeling neglected, in mid-February, Huaxia launched a grand themed event—Warm Valentine’s Day!

It was grand because past themed events—like Christmas or New Year’s Eve—had always been limited to individual servers. For example, searching the entire city for Christmas tree branches and turning them in to specific NPCs for XP and rewards. The only event that could barely be considered cross-server was the cross-server PvP, which was restricted to the Arena. Players only had two modes: spectating from the stands or fighting in the Arena. While that event had allowed players from different servers to briefly meet and get acquainted, it still felt like scratching an itch through boots—nothing like the freedom of running around and interacting freely within a server.

This time, perhaps riding the wave of popularity from the player recall event at the start of the year, the publishers actually created a temporary server—Lover’s Constellation! It would open on February 14th and close on February 28th. During this period, players from all servers could log into this server and complete various quests, dungeons, and open-world maps for generous rewards. Who knew how much the publishers had invested to create such a high-capacity server? No server restrictions, no network provider limitations—this meant all Huaxia players, regardless of whether they were on Netcom or Telecom, could seamlessly enter!

Since they’d spent so much on server capacity, the content had to deliver. The entire Lover’s Constellation was a brand-new world—new maps, new NPCs, new quests, and all sorts of fresh surprises you could or couldn’t imagine. The promotional materials didn’t reveal exactly how new or how fun it would be, only saying, “Drunk in tenderness, unwilling to wake or return.”

Later, a player who couldn’t stand the vagueness provided a plain translation under the promotional post—

Lover’s Constellation: A server you won’t want to leave once you enter.