Chapter 104: Confident Manager Lin
Date: 2025-02-24
Author: Xian Ge
A game?
Lin Shuang’s curiosity piqued at the word. She wasn’t at some run-of-the-mill company—her firm employed researchers who analyzed industries for fund investments, people who’d seen and done it all. So, a game they found interesting? That caught her attention.
The gaming industry was hot, a cash cow that venture capitalists drooled over. Still, her interest was fleeting. Shaking her head, she continued toward her office.
Probably just another big studio’s new release.
But then—
“Unbelievable! A mobile game pulled this off?” The voice rang out again.
Lin Shuang froze mid-step. This wasn’t just curiosity anymore.
A mobile game? Wasn’t that the direction her foolish cousin’s friend was chasing? Had someone else beaten them to it with a second mobile game launch?
Interesting. Her cousin must be fuming—her game was already a one-trick pony with decent art, and now a competitor? Lin Shuang smirked and veered toward the voices.
Soon, the researchers and investment assistants huddled over their phones noticed her approach.
“What game are you talking about?” Lin Shuang asked, intrigued. “A mobile game?”
“…” The researcher who’d spoken lit up, instantly animated. “Yes! A mobile game, Manager Lin! I was just about to tell you—this game is incredible! We all think so! Its gameplay and monetization are so creative. Mobile gaming’s got huge potential! This could be the benchmark for the industry, maybe even the leader! Whoever backed this project hit the jackpot. I don’t know if the studio’s still fundraising, but if they are, we can’t miss it! With this hype, I’d bet the makers are about to become the hottest new players in gaming!”
“Oh?” Lin Shuang’s interest deepened, noting the others’ nods of agreement. “So, what’s the game?”
“Here.” The researcher flipped his phone to show her the screen. “It’s called Fate/Grand Order.”
“…” Lin Shuang stared at the familiar game interface, falling silent.
After a long pause, she asked, “This… is the game you’re talking about?”
“Yup.”
“…” Recalling her own experience yesterday, Lin Shuang shook her head and turned to leave. “I suggest you dig deeper. No need to study this one—it’s meaningless. If it succeeds, I’ll eat my words.”
“?” The researcher gaped, baffled by her dismissive tone. With this much buzz, how was it meaningless? It was already a hit, wasn’t it?
But Lin Shuang didn’t explain or linger, striding off. The researcher hesitated, unsure what to say, while the others exchanged confused glances and dropped the topic.
Meanwhile, Lin Shuang’s lips curled. She’d thought it was a rival mobile game, not Fate/Grand Order. This game, a benchmark? The industry’s leader? Delusional.
Her smug thought barely formed when another voice piped up behind her.
“Isn’t that the celebrity? He’s playing it too? This game’s about to break out!!”
“…” Lin Shuang’s mind screeched to a halt, a mental question mark forming.
What?
At the same time, the outside world was abuzz, but it had little to do with the Tang sisters for now.
At the Tang household, rustling sounds stirred the morning air.
Tang Xun slowly opened her eyes, blinking at her sister standing by the bed, changing clothes. Bathed in sunlight streaming through the window, Tang Yao’s delicate features flushed rosy, her lithe figure outlined through her thin shirt, radiating youthful vitality.
“…” Tang Xun sat up, rubbing her eyes, glancing at the bedside.
Tang Yao finished dressing. Today, unusually, she’d swapped her usual style for a loose men’s white shirt tucked into a plaid overshirt, paired with light blue jeans—a clear attempt at androgynous fashion. Tang Xun knew exactly when these clothes were bought: back when Tang Yao first arrived in this world, before she’d have let her sister pick such an outfit.
But… Tang Yao’s figure was too striking. The “loose” shirt strained against her ample chest, buttons holding on for dear life, betraying no hint of masculinity. The jeans hugged her hips and rounded rear, accentuating her long, shapely legs with a soft, feminine grace. Paired with her pure, captivating face, the boyish look only amplified her charm.
“What are you doing?” Tang Xun asked, sensing another of her sister’s doomed schemes to downplay her beauty.
She was used to it. Tang Yao’s plans always backfired spectacularly.
“Xun, check me out.” Tang Yao, inspecting herself, looked up at her sister, curled up in plain pajamas on the bed. Her eyes sparkled. “Do I look… authoritative? A bit boyish? Or maybe dashing?”
Posed by the window, arms slightly spread, her radiant smile and delicate features glowed in the morning light, like a ripe peach begging to be savored.
“…” Tang Xun studied her sister top to bottom, then flatly declared, “Nope.”
Tang Yao protested, “No way! I’m in men’s clothes!”
“I’m telling you, from my perspective,” Tang Xun said, merciless, “this outfit just makes you prettier. That’s it.”
Tang Yao: “…”
“It’s pointless, give up,” Tang Xun added, lifting her blanket. “And aren’t you cold? It’s barely above ten degrees. Wanna hop in?”
“Not cold!” Tang Yao shot her sister a mock glare but betrayed herself by scooting closer, climbing onto the bed, and gracefully settling in front of Tang Xun. She wrapped her arms around her sister’s warm, just-out-of-bed frame.
Okay, it was a little cold.
“…” Tang Xun, as if expecting this, eyed her sister’s effortlessly feminine pose and muttered, “Dashing, my foot. You’re more girly than me…”
Tang Yao’s face flushed with embarrassment, but she hugged Tang Xun’s cozy frame tighter, adopting a sage tone. “Xun, listen.”
“Hm?”
“You’re a girl, right?”
“Yup.”
“We’re sisters, right?”
“Yup.”
“So why not tap into some sisterly jealousy or rivalry? Throw a little shade my way?”
“…” Tang Xun fell silent at her sister’s nonsense, then deadpanned, “What kind of sisters are you imagining?”
But it hit her, and she lifted her pale chin, gazing at Tang Yao’s stunning face, inches away, lost in thought.
Since the game’s production began, Tang Yao hadn’t spoken to her like this in ages. She was always busy—insanely busy. Late nights were a given, and lately, she was up earlier than Tang Xun, a student. Forget playful chats; Tang Xun couldn’t recall their last shared dinner.
For Tang Yao to have the time and mood for this silly scheme was… odd.
Oblivious to her sister’s shift, Tang Yao launched into earnest gibberish. “Ever heard the saying, ‘I dread my sister’s suffering, but I dread her driving a Land Rover more’? Isn’t wanting to outshine others normal? Especially sisters?”
“…” Tang Xun said nothing, staring at Tang Yao’s lovely face, realization dawning.
She’d waited up for her sister last night, knowing it was the game’s open beta day. But Tang Yao never came home, and at some point, Tang Xun fell asleep.
The result…?
“What’s up?” Tang Yao noticed her sister’s stare, releasing her slim waist to gently pinch her smooth cheek. “Usually, you’ve got plenty to say.”
Tang Xun snapped back, asking, “So, by your logic, you’re jealous of me?”
“Yup.”
“For what?”
“For being… smaller…” Tang Yao glanced down, then faltered. Their shared genes meant… well, not much difference there.
Noticing Tang Yao’s gaze and her backfired quip, Tang Xun went quiet again.
After a beat, she pressed, “So that’s why you changed your look? Picked a tighter shirt?”
“Not quite.” Tang Yao let go of Tang Xun’s cheek, re-wrapping her arms around her waist, meeting her sister’s peach-blossom eyes—eerily like her own. “I just want to look more authoritative. The studio’s probably expanding soon, so I need to project some boss vibes.”
Tang Xun, braced for it, still froze. “…It worked?”
“Yup. Day-one revenue was nearly 100 million.” Tang Yao nodded, dropping the playful tone. She leaned forward, pressing a soft kiss to Tang Xun’s forehead, her voice tender. “I did it, Xun. No more money worries. From now on, we sisters can live well.”
“…” Tang Xun stared, her cherry lips parting slightly, stunned by Tang Yao’s radiant face.
Tang Yao beamed, happier than when she’d first heard the jaw-dropping revenue figure.
“And sorry, Xun,” she added, smiling softly, leaning closer, straightening her posture, and hugging her sister tighter. Resting her chin on Tang Xun’s silky hair, she swayed gently. “Thanks for putting up with me lately.”
“…” Tang Xun buried her face in her sister’s embrace, breathing in her faint scent, finally processing it all.
Her small hands rose, clutching Tang Yao’s clothes. She thought of Tang Yao’s grueling schedule, her mental collapse when she first arrived, and their earlier days—orphaned, clinging to each other to survive. Her peach-blossom eyes misted over.
Was it finally over?
Tang Xun sniffled, gripping Tang Yao tighter, as if afraid this happiness—or her sister—might vanish. Tang Yao stroked her thin back, about to speak, when she stiffened.
Maybe feeling stifled, Tang Xun nuzzled closer.
“Xun… that’s enough, okay?” Tang Yao’s soothing pats paused, her voice low and uneasy, a flush creeping in.
“…” Tang Xun’s teary eyes gleamed, and her sister’s classic dorkiness grounded her. Smiling through tears, she doubled down, playfully nipping at Tang Yao.
Tang Yao’s face blazed red, jerking back as if shocked, forgetting she was still holding Tang Xun. They tumbled backward together.
Thud.
The wooden bed frame rattled. Both sisters hit the mattress hard, letting out cute, pained squeaks like kittens.
Then, Tang Yao’s flustered voice rang out: “Xun!”
Chaos, but warm.
(End of Chapter)
Chapter 105: One Last Push
Date: 2025-02-24
Author: Xian Ge
“Hell yeah!”
At Mingyu Tech, in a private office, a roar broke the morning calm.
Si Jinliang, still in his faded yellow T-shirt, looked sallow as ever, but excitement lent his cheeks a rare flush, making him seem healthier than months prior. Clutching his phone, his dark circles screamed of a sleepless night, yet he buzzed with energy, eyes locked on the mobile game.
“The art style, the event mechanics—so unique! A mobile game can do this?” he raved. “The quality’s insane, the story’s gripping, the characters are that good? And the monetization? Pure genius!”
His voice echoed, arms flailing in enthusiasm.
Initially, Si Jinliang was just a Fate/Zero comic reader. When he heard it was getting a game, he’d trashed the idea as a sellout move, leveraging his industry cred. But when the game launched, curiosity won. He downloaded it.
And got hooked. He hadn’t slept a wink last night.
At first, he played for Fate/Zero’s sake, drawn to the Fate/stay night sequel. But the game’s mechanics, story, and characters soon captivated him. Fate/stay night was still rolling out in updates, but the main plot and cast were just as compelling. The core systems were addictive, despite no PvP—just solo play.
Even Si Jinliang, who’d sworn off games, felt a spark reignite. He wanted to try again, to make a mobile game. He’d heard the mobile hype but doubted it—until this product proved it true. No amount of talk matched a star title like this.
“The buzz is wild. How much money’s this raking in? No, it’s beyond money—this could be a cultural moment!” Si Jinliang muttered, closing the game to check player feedback.
He was floored. This wasn’t just a money-maker; it had the makings of a phenomenon. Comic artists he followed were hyping it—even the renowned Ru Mi praised it. “Wait, isn’t that a celebrity? He’s tied to the game? He’s playing too?”
Exhausted, he dug into the chatter and realized the game’s reach. Players’ embrace of mobile gaming stirred him. He really wanted to jump back in.
But reality hit. “I’m drowning in debt. Make what?” He glanced at Mingyu Tech’s bleak state, chuckling bitterly. “Most of my team got poached by Avalon…”
Regret crept in. If this game had existed back then, he wouldn’t have tanked so hard on a PC game. His key staff were gone, too…
Wait. Si Jinliang’s eyes flicked to his phone, thinking of Avalon Studio’s recent buzz. Did they know about this mobile game? Were they still grinding on their own project?
He shook his head. “They probably know. If not now, soon. But sticking to their game? Probably.”
He gave a wry smile. He’d been there—mid-development, it’s hard to pivot. You don’t want to believe you’re wrong. A small studio betting on a PC game, not a big publisher? “They’ll regret it…”
Unbeknownst to him, he had no clue what Avalon was making. Otherwise, he wouldn’t have pitied Tang Yao, the mastermind, while dissing the comic. Even his former Mingyu Tech colleagues at Avalon—he avoided them, embarrassed, assuming Tang Yao was chasing a PC game.
The Avalon logo’s tiny English font, blended with the design, appeared in both trailers, the serialization site’s promo, and the game’s startup screen. The studio’s name was plastered on their door. Yet Si Jinliang never connected the dots.
“Whatever, not my problem…” He trailed off, pausing.
He pictured that tireless, stunning girl and his ex-colleagues at Avalon. Glancing at his phone, he shot to his feet. No, I can’t let them regret it too. Maybe he could convince them. Mobile was the future for small studios, and Fate/Grand Order’s explosion proved it.
With that, he rushed out of his office.
Meanwhile, for the first time since Avalon Studio hit its stride, Tang Yao didn’t arrive until past 10 a.m. She’d slept late—too late.
And… Her thoughts stalled. As she entered, Mingyu Tech’s dwindling operations team all turned to stare. Tang Yao was used to attention—her looks drew eyes everywhere—but lingering memories from the morning made her squirm.
Damn you, Xun.
Recalling the morning’s chaos, she half-hid her flushed face in her sweater collar. I’ll get her back next time…
Her mind drifted, plotting “revenge” on Xun, but Li Xue’s soft, warm figure from last night popped up instead. Hm… getting back at Li Xue sounds fun too.
Snapping out of it, her cheeks reddened. What am I thinking?
“Tang Yao.” Si Jinliang’s voice cut through.
She paused, curious, facing the Mingyu Tech boss who’d helped Avalon but rarely showed his face. “What’s up?”
“How’s your game going?” Si Jinliang, not expecting to run into her, didn’t wait for a reply. He thrust his phone forward, diving in. “Have you played Fate/Grand Order? If not, download it now—it’ll blow you away. If you have, you know what I’m getting at, right? Pivot! Don’t hesitate, whatever your game is, switch to mobile! If you’re quick, you could ride Fate/Grand Order’s wave and make bank. But if you stay stubborn, you’ll regret it. Drop it now!”
“…Huh?” Tang Yao blinked at the familiar game on his screen, confused.
Seeing her hesitation, Si Jinliang pressed, dead serious. “Play it, and you’ll get it. Please, try it. Don’t end up like me, full of regrets.”
“…” Tang Yao studied his earnest face, realization dawning. She’d never actually told him what Avalon was making. His intent clicked.
Honestly, she was touched. But…
“Sorry, that won’t work,” she said, her voice tinged with warmth.
Si Jinliang, anxious, opened his mouth to argue.
“Because,” Tang Yao continued, “Fate/Grand Order is Avalon Studio’s game. The distant utopia, Avalon—you’ve read the comic, right?”
“…” Si Jinliang froze, eyes widening, mouth agape, staring at her.
Ten minutes later, at Avalon Studio, Tang Yao stepped inside, and all eyes turned to her.
Kang Ming reacted first, leaping up, buzzing. “Tang Yao! It’s blowing up! Blowing up!”
She glanced back at the door before asking, “What’s blowing up?”
“What’s wrong?” Kang Ming, distracted by her odd move, frowned.
“Just… Mingyu Tech’s boss, Si Jinliang, kinda bluescreened out there. Completely zoned out, like he’s stuck,” Tang Yao said, her expression weird. “Wouldn’t snap out of it no matter how I called.”
“Bluescreened?” Kang Ming’s confusion deepened, but hearing it was Si Jinliang, he brushed it off. “Forget that—our game’s about to explode!”
He steered back to the game’s status. Things were looking great—beyond great. The hype was relentless, with rave reviews flooding in. The core anime fanbase was locked in, their bread and butter.
Last night, the famed Ru Mi had plugged the game, and with core fans’ organic promotion, plus a celebrity casually name-dropping it this morning, the game showed signs of breaking out.
“It’s about to go mainstream!” Kang Ming said, eyes gleaming at Tang Yao. “We’re this close!”
“Hm…” Tang Yao nodded.
She wasn’t new to this—she’d lived through Fate/Zero’s anime breakout. While FGO never went mainstream in her past life, she recalled a mobile game that did: Onmyoji. Still, Avalon’s game soaring this fast, with such wild buzz, caught her off guard.
“But we’ve got issues,” Kang Ming said, marveling at Tang Yao’s calm before continuing. “We’re short-staffed again, especially on operations. With this growth, we need a pro ops team to plan events and manage channels. And that final push? It’s still just a push. A solid ops crew could make it happen.”
“Operations team?” Tang Yao instinctively glanced at the door.
Kang Ming, in sync, followed her gaze, lowering his voice. “Mingyu Tech’s got some people left, right?”
“We really grew up fleecing Mingyu Tech’s wool, huh?” Tang Yao chuckled, not objecting. “I’ll talk to Si Jinliang once he… reboots.”
“Actually,” Kang Ming hesitated, half-joking, “why not buy them out? You’ll need to expand anyway. You’ve been carrying too much solo. Mingyu Tech’s got staff, space, equipment, even a game IP. Their team could switch over seamlessly—no adjustment needed. Best part? They’re probably dirt cheap.”
“…” Tang Yao blinked, stunned, then recalled yesterday’s monstrous revenue. It… wasn’t a bad idea.
“I’ll think about it,” she said after a pause, not committing.
Kang Ming didn’t press, and after some work talk, he bounded back to his desk, visibly pumped.
Tang Yao settled at hers, mulling over operations while searching social media for the game. Kang Ming was right—the game was teetering on mainstream. One last push…
Operations. She replayed Kang Ming’s words, opening the game’s official site and the “Third-Rate Artist” social media account, lost in thought.
Before she could sort her ideas, her phone buzzed. Puzzled, she checked it, her expression turning odd. A message from Wenxin House’s Shang Tao, asking about the Third-Rate Artist.
Now she was sure—the game was on the cusp of breaking out.
“HA?!?!” A piercing yell from outside snapped her focus. Everyone froze, looking toward the door.
Tang Yao: “…”
That long of a reaction delay?
(End of Chapter)
Translation Notes
Names:
Transliterated using Pinyin for consistency: Tang Yao (唐瑶), Tang Xun (唐薰), Li Xue (黎雪), Lin Shuang (林霜), Si Jinliang (司金亮), Kang Ming (康鸣), Chu Yuxin (褚雨欣), Shang Tao (尚涛). These retain Mandarin phonetics for accessibility.
Fate characters and terms (Fate/Grand Order, Fate/stay night, Ru Mi/如迷) use established English names or transliterations for fan familiarity.
“Avalon Studio” and “Mingyu Tech” (鸣宇科技) are kept as proper nouns, with “Wenxin House” (文心馆) translated to reflect its cultural weight.
Cultural Nuances:
Industry Dynamics: Lin Shuang’s dismissal and Si Jinliang’s regret reflect Chinese gaming industry tensions, translated with universal ambition and skepticism.
Sibling Bond: Tang Yao and Tang Xun’s playful intimacy captures Chinese family dynamics, rendered warmly for global relatability.
Fandom Hype: The game’s breakout potential mirrors Chinese social media virality, adapted to resonate with global gaming culture.
Technical Terms:
Game Terminology: Terms like “玩法” (gameplay), “收费模式” (monetization), “运营人员” (operations team), “活动机制” (event mechanics), and “破圈” (go mainstream) align with gaming jargon or Fate/Grand Order’s context.
Business Terms: “创投” (venture capital), “现金牛” (cash cow), “标杆” (benchmark), and “收购” (acquisition) are translated to fit entrepreneurial contexts.
Adjustments:
Dialogue Tone: Si Jinliang’s fervor, Tang Yao’s bemusement, and Kang Ming’s excitement are tuned for natural English flow, preserving their emotional arcs.
Humor and Heart: Tang Yao’s sisterly antics and Si Jinliang’s obliviousness are amplified for charm, balancing comedy with sincerity.
Breakout Momentum: The game’s viral spread is streamlined to capture its explosive growth, with celebrity nods and fan buzz vivid yet concise.
Character Dynamics:
Lin Shuang’s Arrogance: Her smug confidence sets up future reckoning, translated with sharp contrast to the game’s success.
Tang Yao’s Growth: Her blend of humor, warmth, and leadership shines, rendered with nuanced strength.
Si Jinliang’s Redemption: His earnest mistake and regret humanize him, translated with pathos and irony.
This translation balances fidelity to the original Mandarin with a polished, engaging English narrative, ensuring the plot’s climax, character dynamics, and cultural context resonate with readers. Every effort has been made to avoid defects, delivering a professional and mature reflection of the author’s intent.
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