Chapter 114: Stepping Stone
Date: 2025-03-01
Author: Xian Ge
As Tang Yao predicted, Li Xue’s cousin, Lin Shuang, stopped pestering her. Not only did she regain her confidence, but she went further—leaking Fate/Grand Order’s day-one revenue to the world.
Nearly 100 million yuan in a single day.
That figure was staggering for any game, let alone in the still-nascent mobile gaming space. Overnight, the industry’s winds shifted.
If FGO’s initial buzz had merely turned heads, the revenue data was a bombshell. This wasn’t just attention—it was a gold rush.
PC gaming was already a bloodbath, saturated to the point of exhaustion. Many studios had pivoted to browser games, chasing new revenue streams, mirroring the pre-mobile era of Tang Yao’s past life when PC games plateaued and browser games surged. But browser games hadn’t fully taken off yet when Fate/Grand Order dropped.
Lin Shuang’s leak of FGO’s numbers set the industry ablaze. Small and mid-sized studios’ eyes gleamed with greed, as did venture capitalists’. When their bosses quizzed staff and learned these games weren’t technically complex—mostly demanding heavy art investment, with gameplay ripe for copying—the race was on.
Players might not have felt the shift, simply enjoying FGO’s fun. But on the investment side, cash-hungry backers swarmed, all dreaming of their own anime game. Lin Shuang, leading the charge, had spread the news deliberately to attract more pitches, hunting for the next FGO, the next Avalon Studio. The flood of entrepreneurs proved her bet right.
She was among the fastest to act.
Soon, she found two promising projects, both seemingly more solid than Tang Yao’s had been. The first was led by a veteran artist from a major studio, now independent. He’d held exhibitions, had industry cred, and entered gaming out of passion. The second was a producer, also ex-major studio, who’d helmed several hits. When Lin Shuang met him, he seemed to know everything, answering every question with ease. He dissected FGO’s success—player psychology, gacha mechanics, funnel models—breaking down core monetization, art quality, and game loops with confidence.
After meeting them, Lin Shuang greenlit both. These heavyweights wouldn’t settle for a mere million or two—not like Tang Yao. But Lin Shuang deemed it worth it, far more than Tang Yao’s project. Why? Though her regret had stung, she’d bounced back, her pride restored. She wasn’t keen to admit her mistake. More crucially, FGO’s explosive debut hadn’t sustained its climb.
Lin Shuang spotted the issue: operations hadn’t kept pace.
This cemented her view. FGO’s early shine wouldn’t last. It was a lucky break, a first-mover’s quick buck. Amateurs didn’t understand the industry. She almost thanked her cousin for opening her eyes to anime games’ profits.
As for FGO? Once rival anime games hit, it’d be a stepping stone.
Lin Shuang’s leak, ironically, helped Tang Yao. The jaw-dropping revenue drew curious players, boosting FGO’s visibility. But Tang Yao had no time to bask.
Today, Si Jinliang and Mingyu’s operations team officially joined Avalon Studio. In Lin Shuang’s eyes, the “clueless” Tang Yao was now introducing the new hires.
At Avalon Studio, the air was awkward.
“Here’s the deal,” Tang Yao said, facing Si Jinliang and the others, addressing the ex-Mingyu staff who’d built FGO. “Si Jinliang and Yuan Yanbo’s operations team are joining Avalon. From now on, Mingyu Tech is gone—we’re all Avalon Studio.
“I’ve leased the outer office fully. Let’s spend half a day moving out there. This space is too cramped for work. Seating? Stick with Mingyu’s old layout for now.”
“…”
Save for Kang Ming’s trio, everyone’s expressions were complex, especially Yuan Yanbo’s. He glanced at Tang Yao, recalling Si Jinliang’s pitch yesterday on Avalon’s behalf. It’d shocked him—full-on absorption! Even the boss had jumped ship.
He’d hesitated but agreed. Job-hunting elsewhere or joining Avalon nearby? The choice was clear. No regrets now.
“We’re also forming a second project team,” Tang Yao continued, keeping the mood from souring. “Most of you don’t need to worry—it’s early days, and our focus stays on Fate/Grand Order. I’m just mentioning it to see if anyone wants to join Si Jinliang’s team. It’s foundational work, so we only need three or four people.
“Yes, Si Jinliang’s leading it. The project? We’re overhauling Dou Pai to be Avalon’s second game.”
“!!!”
Except for Si Jinliang, the ex-Mingyu staff’s eyes widened, staring at Tang Yao, words caught in their throats. Clearly, they weren’t optimistic.
As expected. Si Jinliang’s concerns weren’t baseless.
Tang Yao didn’t explain—not yet. “I know what you’re thinking. Si Jinliang’s leading, but I’m the lead planner, handling Dou Pai’s overhaul. We’re in validation phase, so it’s not a sure thing. Join or not based on your gut.”
She glanced at Si Jinliang, who stepped forward, bowing slightly. “Looking forward to working with you all. About the second team…”
He began recruiting internally. Though most still looked conflicted, Si Jinliang seemed at peace with his new role.
Tang Yao didn Reid into his pitch, instead approaching Yuan Yanbo’s operations team. “That’s not your concern for now. Your focus is FGO’s operations.”
“…” Yuan Yanbo glanced at Si Jinliang’s back, wanting to speak, but Tang Yao’s gaze made him swallow his advice. “What exactly do we do?”
“You know this better than me,” Tang Yao said, thinking. “But I’d say channel partnerships are key, plus the Christmas event and new version launch. Channels—we’re only on the comic serialization site, which is too limited. For events, it’s standard: drive user acquisition, engagement, retention, and revenue.”
She shared her thoughts. She wasn’t an expert, but her past life’s “workplace experience” wasn’t useless. She knew basic marketing tactics.
Yuan Yanbo had asked casually, but as he listened, he grew serious, eyes brightening. By the time Tang Yao finished, he was already huddling with his team to brainstorm.
Tang Yao waited patiently. But before Yuan Yanbo’s group wrapped up, Si Jinliang returned, his expression sheepish.
She scanned the room and got it. Not one person had signed up.
What a sad story.
(End of Chapter)
Chapter 115: Co-Publishing?
Date: 2025-03-02
Author: Xian Ge
Facing Si Jinliang’s gaze, Tang Yao didn’t know what to say. She understood, though. Dou Pai’s failure was a heavy debuff for the ex-Mingyu staff.
“I’ll assign people later,” she said after a pause, opting not to pick names on the spot.
Si Jinliang nodded, still a bit embarrassed but not surprised. He’d braced for this. “If no one joins, I can handle the framework alone… but I’ll need the planning doc first.”
“Got it,” Tang Yao agreed.
Soon, Avalon Studio buzzed with activity, relocating to the outer office. Tang Yao didn’t claim Si Jinliang’s old private office. With the team still understaffed, she’d be swamped—better to stay accessible than shuttle back and forth.
Her choice to sit in the open office sparked bright eyes and quiet delight among the staff, though she wasn’t sure why.
After half a day’s hustle, everyone settled into the outer office. Ex-Mingyu staff returned to their old desks, while Tang Yao took a spot near Avalon’s crew. As she connected her equipment and checked the network, Chu Yuxin approached.
Tang Yao eyed the girl with thick brows and a slightly dazed look. “What’s up?”
Chu Yuxin hesitated, glancing at Tang Yao. “You sure about taking on Dou Pai?”
Tang Yao didn’t answer immediately, peering past her. Several ex-Mingyu staff were watching—Chu Yuxin was their spokesperson. “You all against it?”
“Not against you,” Chu Yuxin said softly. “We’re worried Si Jinliang’s selling you a dream. If he’s pushing this out of stubbornness, to prove himself, as a condition for joining, you don’t have to agree. He’s worth less than a computer, let alone a game.”
“He’s not selling me anything,” Tang Yao said, stifling a laugh. “I want to make a card game. He didn’t make it a condition—I invited him. But I’m surprised you’d think that. Let me ask: are you trying to prove something?”
Chu Yuxin froze.
Tang Yao blinked. “Why else assume Si Jinliang’s proving himself by tricking me?”
“…” Facing Tang Yao’s clear gaze, Chu Yuxin went quiet, then stammered, “Maybe… because Si Jinliang joined so suddenly.”
Tang Yao smiled, getting it. It was a painful memory. They didn’t trust Si Jinliang, but they also weren’t content. Their urge to dissuade her wasn’t just doubt in him—it was doubt in themselves. Deep down, they wanted to prove something too, but past failure made them hesitate, pushing them to reject the idea.
“Feeling better now?” Tang Yao didn’t call it out directly. She patted Chu Yuxin’s shoulder. “I’m not being duped. I want to make a card game. I picked Dou Pai because you all know it well, and I see potential in its gameplay, art, everything. Honestly, it’s pretty great. I’ve studied card games a lot—I’m confident I can revive this game you poured your hearts into.
“If you’re worried, skip the validation phase. Play it after the overhaul, then decide if you want in.”
“…” Chu Yuxin studied Tang Yao’s radiant face, then nodded slowly.
Pretty great? she thought.
Tang Yao watched her rejoin the ex-Mingyu staff, smiling softly. She had a hunch: once Dou Pai was reborn, these folks would become Avalon’s most loyal core.
But that was getting ahead. First, she needed a team for Si Jinliang.
Her gaze landed on Kang Ming. His trio was unique—barely tied to Mingyu, seated near her. “Kang Ming, can one of you three join the second project? Si Jinliang’s technical, so one person’s enough. I’ll handle art and planning for now.”
In the end, Shi Wanglin volunteered. He liked card games and had a restless streak. With FGO in stable operations, he craved a challenge. After meeting Si Jinliang and chatting, they huddled in a corner, whispering plans, detached from the FGO team.
They’d likely stay that way for a while. Tang Yao left them to it, turning to Yuan Yanbo, Avalon’s operations lead.
“Special event, limited Servant, Third Singularity finale?” Tang Yao briefed Yuan Yanbo on the next version, outlining the game’s current state.
Yuan Yanbo, scanning the materials, looked stunned. “That much content? Right after open beta?”
“Not really,” Tang Yao said, shaking her head. “Players are hyped now, at peak interest. We need consumable content fast—it was set before launch. Any ideas on promotion?”
“Ideas…” Yuan Yanbo mused.
Honestly, he was still adjusting. At Dou Pai, he’d focused on milking players. Proper promotion? He needed a minute.
“I’ll draft a plan,” he said after a few minutes. “There’s a ton of content. Christmas is coming, and Lunar New Year’s a month later. To maximize impact, our exposure channels are too limited. We need to fix that—maybe tap anime forums or sites…”
Tang Yao perked up at “anime sites.” “You mean AnimationFan? ANF?”
Yuan Yanbo nodded, snapping out of his thoughts. “Yeah, ANF. It’s small compared to mainstream video platforms, but it’s got a solid core anime crowd—our target audience.”
“Think we could co-publish the game with them?”
“Huh??”
(End of Chapter)
Translation Notes
Names:
Transliterated using Pinyin for consistency: Tang Yao (唐瑶), Li Xue (黎雪), Lin Shuang (林霜), Si Jinliang (司金亮), Chu Yuxin (褚雨欣), Kang Ming (康鸣), Yuan Yanbo (袁彦波), Shi Wanglin (石旺林). These retain Mandarin phonetics for accessibility.
Fate terms (Fate/Grand Order, Servant, Third Singularity) use established English equivalents for fan clarity.
“Mingyu Tech” (鸣宇科技), “Avalon Studio” (理想乡), and “AnimationFan/ANF” (二次元网站) are kept as proper nouns, reflecting their narrative roles. “ANF” is a fictional stand-in, translated as a plausible platform name.
Cultural Nuances:
Industry Frenzy: Lin Shuang’s leak and the rush to anime games mirror China’s mobile gaming gold rush, translated with universal greed and opportunism.
Team Dynamics: The ex-Mingyu staff’s conflict and Tang Yao’s empathy capture Chinese workplace tensions, rendered with nuance and warmth.
Marketing Context: Yuan Yanbo’s pivot to promotion reflects China’s cutthroat gaming market, adapted for global relatability.
Technical Terms:
Game Terminology: Terms like “流水” (revenue), “从者” (Servant), “特异点” (Singularity), “活动运营” (event operations), “拉新” (user acquisition), “促活” (engagement), “留存” (retention), and “增收” (revenue growth) align with FGO and industry contexts.
Business Terms: “蓝海” (blue ocean), “创投” (venture capital), “渠道对接” (channel partnerships), and “联运” (co-publishing) are translated to fit entrepreneurial contexts.
Game Types: “端游” (PC games), “页游” (browser games), and “手游” (mobile games) are contextualized to reflect the industry’s evolution.
Adjustments:
Emotional Tone: Tang Yao’s reassurance, the staff’s doubt, and Lin Shuang’s ambition are tuned for natural English flow, preserving emotional depth.
Strategic Clarity: Tang Yao’s operational focus and Lin Shuang’s market bet are streamlined to highlight their contrasting visions.
Dialogue Flow: Chu Yuxin’s hesitation and Tang Yao’s persuasion are amplified for empathy, while Yuan Yanbo’s shock adds momentum.
Character Dynamics:
Tang Yao’s Leadership: Her blend of confidence and care shines, rendered with subtle authority.
Lin Shuang’s Rivalry: Her shift to proactive investment sets up her as a foil, translated with sharp cunning.
Team’s Conflict: The ex-Mingyu staff’s reluctance and Tang Yao’s insight into their psyche are translated with quiet tension.
This translation balances fidelity to the original Mandarin with a polished, engaging English narrative, ensuring the plot’s progression, 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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