Chapter 142

Fang Hong's dinner inviting the big shots from Beijing Film Academy spread quickly through the industry.

Almost everyone with any influence knows this! Not to mention Yu Donggua—he's part of the Beijing Film Academy circle too, and every year when new students enroll, he goes to give a speech encouraging them to work hard.

But right now, he isn't using Beijing Film Academy talent; he's collaborating with a Hong Kong team.

That's fundamentally different from Fang Hong recruiting many Beijing Film Academy talents to work for him.

Yu Donggua talks one way; Fang Hong acts another. These two are not the same—at least most Beijing Film Academy students side with him.

Of course, they're behind-the-scenes workers, not front-facing ones.

After that dinner, "The Genius Club" got approved within just a couple of days.

The Film Review Committee itself includes professors from Beijing Film Academy—all classmates and alumni.

As long as the film doesn't commit major errors, saying it was made by a student isn't an issue at all.

But the version approved was the second ending—the one with the righteous, glorious conclusion.

That couldn't be changed: the female lead couldn't turn evil; if she did something wrong, she had to face strict legal punishment—that's the core value.

Back at the company, Fang Hong arranged the promotion and release of "The Genius Club" for National Day.

That way, not only are students on break, but the general public is too—and with the promotional hype, box office is still guaranteed.

The film had been sitting since the beginning of the year—long enough already!

He told Chen Zhixi: "You and Han Jianü go to China Film Group and schedule this film for the National Day period."

"Go with Han Jianü?"

Chen Zhixi looked doubtful—she'd always gone alone before.

"You're not that stupid," Fang Hong said.

Hearing that, Chen Zhixi finally understood: he'd deliberately brought Han Jianü in, not just to use her connections, but to leverage her relationships.

It was already mid-September; October was near. Her going to China Film Group with Han Jianü was essentially cutting into someone else's slot.

If Han Jianü shows up, can Zuoshandiao refuse? Can Old Lei say no? Of course he'll let them in!

They claim their relationship is pure, untainted by any interest—bullshit! But all's fair in war—who else is to blame for dragging them out so long? A little maneuvering was unavoidable.

Did they really think Fang Hong had no backup plan, that they could hold him back?

He just didn't want to show it. If he did, it would scare you to death—he's been keeping it on guard.

Liu Tianxian had returned from Ningbo, but Fang Hong didn't go see her—games, not women, were his true love.

"League of Legends" was launching on the mainland server on September 22; his "Hero Glory" couldn't fall behind.

He wasn't afraid of competing with Tencent—could Tencent even run games? That's hilarious.

They're only good at distribution; they don't care about players at all.

Any game Tencent publishes dies within two years; the big hits are all foreign-licensed games—that's because those foreign studios have solid foundations.

Like "Dungeon & Fighter" licensed; "League of Legends" licensed; "CrossFire" licensed; "QQ Speed" copied.

There are countless domestic game developers, and plenty who can actually make games—even if many just milk a game for a quick profit, then re-skin it and keep milking the same herd, they're all still alive.

Pig Factory has battled Tencent in gaming for decades, yet not a single game company has gone under.

Perfect World only became obscure after its failed transition to mobile games.

Back then, Perfect World's "Zhu Xian" and "Perfect World" were still hugely popular.

Even later, with "Genshin Impact," Tencent was even more dominant—yet a few students still managed to shift the gaming market's balance and carve out a place for themselves.

"League of Legends" was crude as hell back then; it took many revisions to take off—so Fang Hong has the advantage of foresight, and has nothing to fear.

Tencent is powerful, but not as powerful as people think.

Remember, it's the 3Q period right now—the authorities are reining in Tencent.

Fang Hong went upstairs to the gaming department to check the progress of "Hero Glory."

"Based on player feedback, all known bugs have been fixed, hero balance values have been adjusted and refined; other issues can only be addressed during later operations," Li Min reported.

"How players feel is what matters most," Fang Hong said.

The group gathered around the computer, and Li Min pushed aside someone nearby: "Da Sima, come here."

Da Sima was wearing headphones, playing a game, and didn't hear—he only reacted when someone tapped his shoulder.

"This is an invited tester with many years of gaming experience."

Li Min introduced him, and seeing Da Sima had come over, added: "This is our Chairman. Tell him how you felt playing this game."

At this point, Da Sima hadn't yet become the confident, influencer-style figure he'd later be—he was still awkward, covered in acne, didn't wear glasses, and had good eyesight.

When Da Sima heard he was the Chairman, he grew nervous, slightly bowing: "Chairman, hello!"

"Don't be tense—just tell me what you think of the game," Fang Hong said, sounding relaxed.

Da Sima gathered his thoughts, then said: "I've played Warcraft—I picked this up quickly. The controls are simple, the maps are clean, and the combat intensity is strong."

This kind of game is all about competition.

"Do you notice any bad points?" Fang Hong asked.

"The only bad thing is some heroes' skill effects are too flashy—when there are lots of people, you can't tell which hero your skill hit. Also, character skill animations aren't smooth," Da Sima said.

Fang Hong looked at Li Min—this issue had been raised months ago, why was it still there?

Did you spend all the money on dogs? Li Min met his gaze nervously but still explained: "We're polishing every hero—we've done our best."

"Don't ever say 'did our best' to me again—I want certainty," Fang Hong said, his tone not harsh.

He knew that as hero count grew, each one needed polishing.

"Yes!"

Li Min was just an employee now—no longer equal.

The other staff present felt the pressure—even though Fang Hong hadn't spoken to them, the burden had landed squarely on their shoulders.

Da Sima didn't understand any of this—he was basically just a shut-in; he only gained social savvy later, after he got rich.

"I have a suggestion: every hero should have voice lines—like when I play Little Tyrant, the character shouts 'Arugen' when using their ultimate move; that really adds immersion," said General Manager.

"Your suggestion is excellent—I see great potential in you; you'll surely achieve great things," Fang Hong patted him on the shoulder.

He'd actually forgotten this—he could just find voice actors to record it later; it wasn't hard, each hero only needed a few lines.

General Manager was deeply flattered by the praise.

Fang Hong continued: "Do you have time? Let's play a game."

"Of course I do."

General Manager felt a bit excited—playing with the boss himself was something worth bragging about.

So, besides these few people, they brought in several staff members, gathered ten in total, and held a match.

"You can be as cocky as you want—I'll treat you like trash."

"Cocky, cocky, cocky? You're a real leather sofa."

"Look back at the moon—how cool is that? Let's not talk about it."

"Think you're cool? Not even close."

"."

Fang Hong played the game while reciting General Manager's classic lines from his past life.

General Manager played seriously, but Fang Hong's Yasuo dodged him like a dog, killing him repeatedly—he had no anger left.

His current skill level was no match for Fang Hong, a veteran of over a decade.

But he secretly memorized Fang Hong's lines in his heart! The boss's gaming demeanor was so cool—he needed to learn, starting with the lines.

"Backstab!"

Fang Hong was fully immersed in the game; he'd just said that line when someone lightly tapped his head.

Fuck, who's got the guts to do that?

Just as he was about to curse, he looked up and saw Liu Tianxian's pretty face staring at him.

"You— you're here," Fang Hong quickly corrected himself, forcing a smile.

On the screen, General Manager saw Fang Hong's Yasuo freeze—he sneaked in and landed a kill, finally getting some revenge.

"You still have time to play games? That's great," Liu Tianxian said coldly.

She'd come back, and this man hadn't even glanced at her—he was secretly playing games here.

"I'm not playing games—I'm working," Fang Hong explained.

Everyone present wore expressions of "none of my business," heads down, working or gaming, refusing to interfere.

Liu Tianxian gave him a withering look, as if to say, "You think I believe that?"

Fang Hong sheepishly glanced at the screen, then grabbed Liu Tianxian's arm: "This is really fun—try it yourself."

"I don't know how to play games," Liu Tianxian said.

She was an electronics idiot; she wasn't sensitive to electronic devices at all.

"We need people like you to give us feedback—we can only improve."

Fang Hong spoke convincingly, took her bag, and pushed her into the chair.

Seeing his enthusiasm, and having nothing else to do, Liu Tianxian gripped the mouse: "How do I play?"

"Click the right mouse button to move, use basic attacks, skills are QWER—just go out and last-hit minions; it's simple," Fang Hong taught her.

"Oh no! Why didn't you tell me there were others? I'm dead!"

Liu Tianxian, following his instructions, clumsily operated the mouse to spawn—she was instantly killed by General Manager the moment she appeared.

She had zero awareness.

"It's fine, try again," Fang Hong said.

Liu Tianxian stared at the screen, this time being more careful—but every time she attacked a minion, General Manager attacked her, and she'd panic and run back.

"Want to run? Not happening."

General Manager was mischievous—he wore that smug grin; bullying noobs was his favorite thing.

"Dead again," Liu Tianxian muttered, frustrated as her character died under the tower.

She respawned again, but died repeatedly—no chance to fight back, she was utterly terrible! After all, this was a new game—everyone had to adapt from scratch.

"Boring. Here, you take over," Liu Tianxian said, tired of being killed over and over.

"Don't give up—fight back," Fang Hong placed his hand on her shoulder.

"I can't beat him—he's too strong," Liu Tianxian conceded.

General Manager, hearing the goddess say he was strong, smirked proudly.

"You can beat him—you were just inexperienced. Now that you're familiar, you can do it," Fang Hong said.

"Stop trying to fool me!" Liu Tianxian thought it impossible.

"Trust me—the charm of this game is the counterkill; only by counterkilling can you truly feel the joy," Fang Hong said.

"Really?" Liu Tianxian looked at him.

"Really—don't be afraid, go forward boldly," Fang Hong encouraged.

Liu Tianxian followed his advice and kept operating the mouse.

Fang Hong raised his hand slightly—Li Min whispered a few words into General Manager's ear.

General Manager's face turned sour—he hadn't even spawned yet, and they were already cheating? What a shitty company.

His hand slipped—he missed all eight of his skills! "Whoa! Counterkill! Counterkill!"

Liu Tianxian was ecstatic—after being killed so many times, she'd finally gotten a kill.

It felt like winning the world championship—thrilling, deeply satisfying.

(End of Chapter)