Chapter 12

“Cold-hearted?” Old Liu softly repeated the phrase as he clicked on the video.

“Hello, everyone, good afternoon! I’m Big Mouth Luo, and today we’re going to check out a brand-new browser game,” the host announced, matching the line of subtitles as their game advertisement appeared within the video.

The blogger played the entire ad, which lasted only a few dozen seconds, then continued, “Well? Doesn’t it look tempting? It’s free to play, no downloads required—absolutely perfect for slacking off at work—uh, I mean, for relaxing after work!”

Feigning a couple of coughs, the host cut to the game’s login screen. “You go straight to character creation when you open the game. The website generates an account and password for you automatically and saves it to your desktop. That’s pretty convenient.”

He proceeded to the character creation interface. “Pay attention, folks, here comes the first starter pack.”

He entered a name he had already used, pointing to the prompt below. “In games we’ve played before, either duplicate names aren’t restricted at all, or they’re totally forbidden. Either way, it’s your company’s decision, right?”

“But this game is interesting. It restricts duplicate names—but not completely. Look, as long as you pay, you can name your character anything you like.” The blogger topped up another six yuan. “And look at the message after you pay. Doesn’t it make you feel like a real big shot?”

“If it does, congratulations—you’re probably about to lose your shirt in this game.”

“Lose your shirt? Isn’t that a bit much? It’s just a couple of starter packs, how much could it possibly cost?” Old Liu, unfamiliar with the prices, frowned at this.

Well… maybe… later on… Xiao Li dared not say a word. Back when Jiang Qiubai asked her to design the starter packs, she thought the prices were so outrageous no one would buy them, so she didn’t worry too much. Xiao Yang, who had actually implemented these packs in the game, felt equally guilty.

When no one echoed his comment, Old Liu turned around in surprise, a bad feeling creeping up on him. “Don’t tell me those packs are really…”

No one answered, but the video provided all the explanation they needed.

“Maybe some people think I’m exaggerating. Well, let’s log into the game and see,” the blogger said, logging in with practiced ease. He killed a low-level mob in one hit and instantly jumped to level 999.

“Exciting, isn’t it? Look closely—this may be the happiest few minutes you’ll have in this game.” He sped up the footage, mowing down enemies with ease.

“Alright, here’s where things change,” the video slowed to normal speed. “Now you’ll discover that everything you just had was only a trial card. If you don’t pay, when the trial expires, this is what happens—”

The character on screen struggled to cut down a small monster, only scraping off a sliver of its health with each hit.

“Of course, at this point, the game prompts you again: just top up any amount and you’ll get that overpowered gear set, even if it’s only one yuan.”

“Some viewers might say: then I’ll just pay one yuan, won’t I? But here’s what the recharge screen actually looks like.”

The blogger showed a screen packed wall-to-wall with recharge offers. “Let’s count them: Growth Special, Value Spirit Stone Pack, Newbie Cumulative Recharge, First Recharge Bonus… If you meant to spend just a little, can you really resist all these tempting packs?”

“And even if you do resist and just pay one yuan, don’t forget—it wasn’t just the gear that made you level up so fast, you were also at max level. Once you drop down to a few dozen levels, even with that gear, after a few more minutes you’ll notice you’re getting slower and slower.”

“So what do you do if you want to keep leveling fast?” The host’s tone turned mocking. “The game makes it obvious—just pay! The more you pay, the better your life becomes.”

Screenshots of all the different recharge packs filled the video, piling up to cover the entire screen.

Old Liu’s face turned red. He unconsciously took a step back.

Xiao Wu, worrying about the announcements he’d have to post later, protested, “All of this together is only, what, a few thousand at most!”

Xiao Yang tugged at Xiao Wu’s sleeve, shaking his head.

“Maybe some will say: there are a lot of packs, but each is only a few dozen or a few hundred, right?” The blogger countered himself. “Alright, now for the main event.”

“At the very beginning, the game gives you a pet and tells you it can get hungry, it needs to train, and its lineage can be improved. If you want your pet to get stronger, you need to buy items specifically for its training and bloodline upgrades.”

“But!” The video suddenly turned gray. “Bloodline upgrades can fail! Same with your equipment. The highest tier in this game is Divine Gear. If you want to get even stronger, you have to enhance your gear.”

“Enhancement can go up to level eight. Enhancement items can supposedly be obtained from monsters or the shop. The higher the level, the lower the success rate.” The video showed the price of the enhancement item—just two digits.

“Looks pretty cheap, right?” The host raised his voice. “But just like with your pet’s bloodline, enhancing equipment can fail too. The difference is, if you fail—” In the video, a piece of Divine Gear suddenly shattered. “Your gear breaks outright.”

“Breaks. Outright. That means all the money you spent is wasted! Are the designers even human?!” The host’s agony was palpable even through the screen. “Unless you buy another special item in advance, which, if you fail, only drops your gear by one enhancement level.”

“And the price of that item is—” The video zoomed in on the number 4999. “Four thousand nine hundred ninety-nine spirit stones. That’s over four hundred yuan. So, viewers, would you buy this item?”

“If you would, at what level would you start using it? Let’s do the math: if you use it from level one and succeed every time, you’d need eight of them—that’s nearly four thousand yuan, just for one piece of equipment! And that’s assuming you never fail. If you do, it’ll cost even more.”

“If you think the odds are good and skip the protection item the first time…” The host’s tone grew somber. “I have a friend who trusted his luck, went ahead without the protection, and his hard-earned Divine Gear shattered immediately.”

“My—uh, his—heart shattered too. From then on, the world gained one more person who will never forgive this game!”

“Enhancing equipment is a bottomless pit. Trust me, viewers, don’t touch it—no, don’t touch this game at all!” The video ended with the blogger’s heartfelt warning.

Because of its raw sincerity, the video shot up the trending charts on a weekday afternoon. As more people watched, its popularity soared, climbing into the top fifteen on the trending topics.

“My reaction at the start: hmm. After finishing: hmm???”

“Interesting—I actually saw a psychological trick in a game.”

“Here comes someone who’s played it. Honestly, the only redeeming feature is that after VIP5, the recharge tiers are so ridiculously high it completely killed my desire to spend more.”

Many players who’d unconsciously spent money in the game vented in the replies, drawing crowds of amazed onlookers.

“What do I do? I wasn’t interested in the game at first, but now, after reading these comments, I really want to try it,” some even joked.

Just as everyone in the studio had hoped, the game went viral on launch day.

Though not quite in the way they’d wished.

“I think I can’t handle the responsibility of managing the official account,” Xiao Wu stared, tearful, at the endless string of notifications in the upper right corner.

“Don’t worry, there are still people who support us.” Xiao Li scrolled and finally found a tweet defending the game, proudly showing it to Xiao Wu.

“I think this game is pretty good. It’s flexible with time—you can play whenever. Sure, it costs money, but they give you a lot of freebies, and you can create guilds to play with others. I’m not very skilled, but with the free gear, people can’t kill me in the wild anymore. I don’t have to worry about getting ganked!” This was posted by Dreamlike Life from the group chat, who couldn’t bear to see such a good game criticized and came to its defense on social media.

Spending money to improve his gaming experience genuinely made him happy.

“Well, I should thank him then,” Xiao Wu replied, on the verge of tears. Such enthusiastic support—maybe skip it next time.

Dreamlike Life’s tweet quickly went viral too, appearing right after the critical video.

At first, people in the comments just joked:

“Is this what they mean by being sold and still helping the seller count the money?”

“No, this is: being sold, and still telling the seller, ‘You’re actually a pretty good person!’”

Within minutes, someone posted the 200,000 cumulative recharge reward—a glaring perk: instant max level, guild creation token, and the ability to create a guild.

So, this seemingly clueless blogger was actually a whale who’d spent 200,000 in a single day!

After that, the comments filled with requests for “send me 50.”

At first, Dreamlike Life tried to explain, but as more people piled on, he gave up and went back to leveling up his guild in-game. Meanwhile, his guildmates began bouncing around in the comments, trying to recruit people.

After all, the game announced it would declare the top guild in half a month—they needed to prepare early, didn’t they?

Most bystanders simply laughed it off, but some with money but no time, or in a situation similar to Dreamlike Life, became intrigued.

You mean, you can buy happiness with money?

That’s… interesting.