Chapter 439: The Dragon Slayer Has Become the Evil Dragon! The Permission Dog Turns Out to Be Me! |
Late spring, early summer.
As the weather warmed, the gaming world grew livelier.
Especially after Battlefield Winds released its trailer, the previously quiet Golden Wind once again dominated headlines across gaming media.
Reviews ran the gamut.
Some called Battlefield Winds another milestone in FPS history, a next-generation revolution—Golden Wind’s comeback after half a year without a flagship, certain to dominate this year’s C-Expo.
Others said the trailer overhyped the battlefield atmosphere.
A cinematic trailer looking good is understandable—many studios do that.
“But as the first official release on a self-developed engine, shouldn’t Golden Wind show more earnest, hands-on footage to truly honor players’ expectations?”
“Does the trailer’s heavy atmosphere risk skewing players’ judgment of the game’s actual in-game quality?”
“Too much hype could hurt Golden Wind. No gameplay news for so long—doesn’t that, to some extent, mean....”
.....
"....Komera is panicking."
Less than a week remained until the Huaguo expo began.
Shanghai International Convention and Exhibition Center, main exhibition hall.
Standing before Golden Wind’s massive LOGO sign, Gu Sheng looked out at his company’s booth and took a deep breath.
Beside him were Lu Bian and Da Jiang.
“They’re obviously anxious. This is our home turf, and with our trailer getting so much reaction, they’ll try anything to tear us down and lift themselves up.”
Da Jiang nodded in full agreement.
Lu Bian, arms folded, also nodded:
“My suggestion is don’t rush—wait until they’re the ones who panic.”
The three burst out laughing.
From Komera’s perspective, their strategies and actions had always seemed flawless.
They were certain Golden Wind couldn’t pull off a distinctive engine, and they couldn’t imagine Golden Engine would take an unorthodox route and break new ground in physical destruction.
But the more confident they were, the more hollow—and even ridiculous—their attacks looked.
For a moment, the hall fell quiet.
As the host’s designated representative company, Golden Wind enjoyed the privilege of early access to set up its booth.
Now, looking at their finished display, the three felt a lot.
After a pause, Lu Bian blurted out, “Four years...”
It sounded odd at first.
But the three understood what he meant.
Four years ago, in the bitter winter during the CDEA’s 10th Game Development Media Conference, that was Golden Wind’s first time exhibiting.
Their team huddled around a small corner booth; everyone stuffed their hands into their sleeves, shivering as they crouched behind the stand, eagerly waiting for players to try their first motion-sensing pod shooter—Left 4 Dead.
That was the second-generation FPS’s first appearance, and at that expo, Gu Sheng stood on a wobbly stool and shouted, “Make shooters great again.”
Now four years flashed by.
Second-generation FPS had become the undisputed mainstream in shooters.
And they, having come full circle, had once more taken the spotlight at an international-grade TO-level expo in their own country as the host.
“Back then, my team had just started—”
Gu Sheng hummed.
Lu Bian jumped in:
“We were only a dozen people with seven or eight guns!”
Hearing their banter, Da Jiang chimed in without losing face:
“I was chased by the Huang army until I was dizzy—”
“Lucky for A-qing-sao,”
Gu Sheng perked up, posed theatrically, one hand on hip, thumb pointing behind him:
“She told me to hide in the water jar!”
“Oh? Stylin’, you three bosses singing again?”
At that moment, light footsteps approached and a bright voice called out.
Lu Bian turned and laughed:
“What they sing comes right on cue—A-qing-sao’s here.”
“Should be called A-sheng-sao,” Da Jiang corrected precisely.
Indeed!
The newcomer was Shen Miaomiao.
With her came Chu Qingzhou and Jiang Shan.
Shen Miaomiao reached Gu Sheng’s side and casually looped her arm through his, tilting her head to appraise the finished booth and nodding in satisfaction:
“Wow, impressive. This has to be our biggest booth ever, right?”
“A joint booth, so bigger is normal,”
Gu Sheng grinned:
“We share the booth with Yiyou. Since we’re the host, occupying three booth spaces for one combined area is reasonable, right?”
Reasonable my foot!
Shen Miaomiao rolled her eyes inwardly.
A combined booth—Yiyou is essentially a motion-sensing pod company; they’ve always exhibited jointly with game companies.
True, this time Yiyou had released an upgraded machine—the Yiyou X2 Pro.
But that was no justification for two companies to claim triple the area, was it?
Damn permissions!
Shen Miaomiao cursed silently.
Once, when they stood in the corner, they envied how large and attractive other booths were.
Now, the dragon slayer had become the evil dragon.
The permission dog turned out to be me.
“Ah yes, yes, yes,” Shen Miaomiao laughed and lightly bumped Gu Sheng:
“Reasonable—when President Gu speaks, when has he ever spoken unreasonably? You’re the most reasonable of us all, President Reasonable.”
They all laughed and walked toward the exit.
Lu Bian took Chu Qingzhou’s hand, Da Jiang slung Jiang Shan over his shoulder, and Shen Miaomiao linked arms with Gu Sheng:
“Hungry. Where shall we eat?”
Without hesitation, someone replied in unison:
“Buffet!”
The winter buffet had been the most unforgettable meal of their lives.
They wondered if this time they could, like before, eat so much they'd leave the boss speechless.
Chatting, the group walked out of the hall.
Rumble.
As the automatic doors parted, another group simultaneously entered.
They brushed past one another.
Both teams glanced sideways at the others but said nothing—no nod, no greeting—like strangers.
Yet in truth, they were not strangers at all—
......
“It’s Gu Sheng and GW’s executive group. Looks like they just finished setting up their booth,” Seiichi Nakamura pulled his gaze back and murmured.
At this, Komera president Ito’s aide, Kotera Taro, snorted:
“Hmph—scruffy, like a startup fresh out of college. If they weren’t backed by the authorities, I’d like to see them act so chill...”
Kotera’s tone was low, laced with anger and resentment.
Their plan in Huaguo had been to emulate Golden Wind’s earlier success and plaster their logo across Shanghai’s central tower.
But that idea had failed.
Not only did Shanghai Center refuse their exorbitant ad buy, but most key booth slots also rejected their “cooperation” pitches—no exceptions.
Komera was furious.
They were certain this happened because Golden Wind had clandestine official protection, blocking Komera’s retaliatory PR at a higher level.
If—
This were a TV drama, the next scene would be Golden Wind’s self-reliance inspiring fellow citizens to rally together without official prompting—a triumphant Golden Spirit montage.
But reality isn’t drama.
Komera’s suspicion was right.
This was an arrangement from above.
No one was allowed to take Komera’s money for promotion.
Anyone who did would face combined inspections from commerce, fire, tax, health, and even the banking and insurance regulators.
Under such pressure, no one dared risk their company’s future.
In truth, for the game industry, such heavy-handed targeting wasn’t necessary.
Market freedom—our country has always been open to friendly international business. Normal competition, no intervention.
In normal circumstances, even if Golden Wind and Komera fought bitterly, or Golden Wind was about to be swallowed by Komera, the authorities wouldn’t step in.
So why this time was Komera given such “special treatment”?
Engine blockade.
At the root, it was Vivendi’s blockade that discouraged foreign investment—an extremely serious problem.
“Don’t make me show my teeth,” someone thought.
Blocking Komera’s offline promotion channels in Shanghai was only the appetizer.
“Little brother, I know you’re anxious, but don’t fret—you’ll be the one who panics soon!”
“Wha—? What is this—this—this!!!”
The next moment, Komera’s team entered the main hall and gasped.
Even Seiichi Nakamura couldn’t help but exclaim in astonishment.
Directly ahead stood Golden Wind’s booth!
The vast display spanned some ninety-five meters wide—the imperial number ninety-five—massive!
On the giant LED screens, Golden Wind’s gold logo and Yiyou’s bright red logo played off each other.
Above the area, several fighter jet models hung midair in a dogfight!
A static A35 explosion display delivered brutal visual impact!
Look left—
The towering Pearl Tower crumbled, splitting in half and collapsing!
Look right—the magnificent Shanghai Center building smoked and burned, floors ripping away and falling from the heights!
Armed helicopters circled the building!
Missiles fired from beneath their pods tore toward heavy tanks below!
Enfolded within this scaled-down, shocking war diorama were sixty-four of the latest Yiyou X2 Pro Battlefield Winds collector motion-sensing pods!
Luxurious! Grand! Overwhelming!
The unprecedentedly opulent set literally left Komera’s team mouths agape.
Too ruthless!
They had assumed Golden Wind’s Resident Evil 7 themed booth at Higashitsu Gaming Festival—an exhibit that crashed San scores—was the peak of their imagination.
But now!
Golden Wind declared:
The RE7 booth was just the limit they were allowed under restrictions—not the limit of Golden Wind’s creativity!
Again, if roles were reversed, “I’ll show you what cruelty truly is!”
This display, right at the exhibition entrance, coupled with the eyeblink-grabbing broken Pearl Tower and Center building!
Forget it.
Komera’s people sank, ready to give up.
Give up my ass!!!
When they played at home, they couldn’t seize the opportunity to dominate press attention with that RE7 booth—now Golden Wind had gone even further!
They scaled the battlefield itself down and brought it into the hall!
What the hell!
What do you call a near-hundred-meter thing a booth?!
One booth could house dozens of small developers!
Most infuriatingly—
“Outrageous—!!!”
While everyone was still stunned, a furious shout erupted beside Golden Wind’s giant display.
Turning, they saw Kotera Taro trembling and pointing at the boundary lines that marked his allotted area:
“This... this... this is our booth space! It’s only... this little!!!”
Clamor!
People rushed over to inspect.
Kotera’s marked area labeled KOMINA was only twenty or thirty meters wide—a pipsqueak standing next to Golden Wind’s colossus.
Voices rose from the right-side space:
“This... is CloudPower’s...”
“Roughly the same size as Komera’s—looks pathetic.”
Left and right, CloudPower and Komera flanked Golden Wind.
Despicable!
Clearly, the organizers designed it this way.
Place Golden Wind’s massive booth center stage, then set Komera and CloudPower—the two Vivendi-subsidiary heavyweights—on either side.
The intent was obvious:
Let Golden Wind drain them dry.
From the looks of it, CloudPower, without a headliner, was consigned to be leeched off Golden Wind’s traffic.
Komera, after being undermined by Golden Wind’s trailer launch, had rapidly lost heat and attention.
Then, they suffered a coordinated offline and PR blackout across Shanghai!
On Huaguo home turf, they had no foothold!
Seiichi Nakamura’s chest heaved; his face turned ashen.
He had expected push-and-pull competition in Huaguo, but this was absurdly lopsided!
He couldn’t imagine what the expo opening would look like now.