Agreeing to Create Bad Games, What the Hell Is ‘Titanfall’? Chapter 219: Why Should Your Next Tower Defense Still Be a T

This...

Gu Sheng didn’t know how to explain it to Yan Sheng.

Because both of those studio nas were inspired by JoJo’s Bizarre Adventure!

And in this world, JoJo didn’t exist.

So for a mont, he had no idea how to answer Yan Sheng’s question.

However—

Just as he was racking his brain, ready to throw out so vague excuse...

Little Nezha, standing nearby, suddenly spoke up:

“Director Yan, we’ve been working together for quite so ti now, so I’m sure you’ve heard of our Golden Spirit,”

“Golden Experience Studio is our foundation, the very first studio we established. It embodies our deepest understanding and dedication to the Golden Spirit,”

“We’re committed to delivering groundbreaking experiences to players—hence the na Golden Experience,”

“As for Steel Chain Fingers Studio, its English na is STICKY FINGERS, taken from the Rolling Stones’ album of the sa na,”

“I believe President Gu’s intention was to pay tribute to the saying ‘a rolling stone gathers no moss’—it reflects our desire for the team to always stay energized and keep moving forward,”

“At the sa ti, STICKY FINGERS literally translates to ‘petty theft,’”

“The na may sound sneaky, but it symbolizes our conquest across the gaming world...”

At this point, Shen Miaomiao shrugged and raised an eyebrow with a grin:

“A small taphor from a supernova.”

After speaking, she sneakily shot a glance at Gu Sheng, her big eyes sparkling as she mimicked his usual sly eyebrow raise: See? I get you!

Gu Sheng, anwhile, was utterly stunned.

Hly sht! That was aweso!

Wasn’t Little Nezha a finance major?

How is her reading comprehension this insane?

What is she, a royal court translator?

That explanation was elegant and layered, full of references and high-minded ideals.

It was the kind of perfect answer that makes you think, “Maybe the reader read too much into it, and the author didn’t an any of that.”

“Ah... yeah!”

As shaless as ever, Gu Sheng imdiately nodded at Yan Sheng, fully endorsing Little Nezha’s perfect interpretation:

“Exactly! And it also reflects Director Shen’s hopes for the company.”

Hsssss—!!!

Hearing that—

Yan Sheng couldn’t help but suck in a sharp breath. He looked at the pair standing before him—truly a match made in heaven—with admiration sparkling in his eyes.

“Excellent, excellent, truly excellent,”

“Golden Experience and Steel Chain Fingers... what wonderful nas!”

“President Gu is remarkably insightful, and Director Shen is truly visionary. With the two of you anchoring Golden Wind, how could it not thrive? With you two leading, how could the Chinese gaming industry not rise?”

“To partner with Golden Wind is truly an honor for Yiyou!”

Gu Sheng forced a smile that was awkward but still polite:

“Uh-hahaha, the honor’s ours, definitely ours…”

——

Whoosh—

Waving goodbye as Yan Sheng’s car drove off, Gu Sheng finally let out a sigh of relief.

Beside him, Shen Miaomiao nudged him with her shoulder. “Hey, how was that explanation? Right on the money, huh? Total mind-ld?”

“Absolutely. Nailed it. Not even a little bit off,”

Gu Sheng gave her a big thumbs-up, full of praise for Little Nezha’s reading comprehension:

“You explained it better than I ever could. Director Shen, you’re truly farsighted—your strategic vision is admirable. I should be learning from you!”

“Hmph! Obviously—”

Gu Sheng’s praise was music to Shen Miaomiao’s ears. She put her hands on her hips and raised her chin proudly:

“For a young comrade to have such ideological awareness—very impressive. Co on, I’ll buy you milk tea!”

“Ey—”

Hearing that, Gu Sheng waved his hand:

“Leader, what are you saying? As they say, ‘those close to cinnabar turn red.’ It’s not that I’m ideologically sound—it’s that I’ve got a good teacher!”

“Ugh—You’re giving goosebumps!”

Shen Miaomiao shivered from the flattery and rubbed her arms, mouth stretching into a wide grin:

“No wonder my dad’s so taken in by your bullsh*t. You’re really next-level at sucking up!”

Gaming incubus, Electronic Daji—he really lived up to the na!

Still joking and laughing, the two walked into the drink shop downstairs.

After ordering two milk teas, they found a spot by the window to sit.

“Got any ideas for the new project?”

Shen Miaomiao took a big slurp of her milk tea and looked at Gu Sheng.

There was still a month to go before the Mini Ga Overseas Expansion Plan launched. It wasn’t exactly a short ti, but it wasn’t long either.

If they jumped into production imdiately, with the help of outsourcing, finishing a mini ga within a month was totally doable.

But if they dragged their feet on project approval, the production window would get dangerously tight.

So the top priority now was to lock in what they were making and get the ball rolling.

“Hmm… not really,”

Gu Sheng took a sip too, looking out the window with a slight frown.

It wasn’t that he had no ideas—more like he had too many.

Since it needed to be cross-platform between PC and mobile, the first thing to consider was the limitations and performance on mobile.

Because PCs can handle way more, designing for both ant he had to prioritize the mobile side as the baseline.

Even so, there were still too many viable directions.

He could make a Slay the Spire-style roguelike card ga.

Or sothing like This War of Mine, a survival strategy title.

He could go with a simulation managent ga, or even a side-scrolling action ga.

Beyond that, gas like Angry Birds, Candy Crush, or Ski Safari could all be mobile-to-PC ports.

None of these were large-scale—one month would be plenty.

With so many choices, all tempting, it was hard to pick just one.

And just then, Shen Miaomiao had a sudden brainwave. She cupped her face and looked at Gu Sheng:

“Why don’t you make a Carrot Defense-type ga?”

“Carrot Defense?” Gu Sheng turned back to look at Little Nezha. “Isn’t that by Thunder Ga? We’d be infringing.”

“I an that style, doesn’t have to be Carrot Defense exactly,” Shen Miaomiao said. “Just one of those build-towers-to-fight-monsters gas. You can defend whatever.”

Tower defense.

No doubt about it, Carrot Defense was the textbook example of a tower defense ga.

Not a bad genre choice, actually.

Gu Sheng’s eyes lit up, and he asked, “What made you suddenly want a tower defense ga? Not defending your carrot anymore?”

“Mm… just kind of bored,”

She smacked her lips and continued:

“Whether it’s level design, enemy types, or even the maps and gaplay, it all ends up feeling the sa after a while.”

What she described was a long-standing issue in the dostic gaming market.

Carrot Defense was a free ga.

So to keep monetizing it, the developers had to keep updating it constantly.

But the problem was, the tower defense genre had beco so formulaic. No matter how hard the devs tried, they could only really tweak enemy types and tower functions, and ramp up difficulty—like increasing enemy health, shortening path lengths, or adding map obstacles.

But these updates were just artificial life support. They didn’t bring actual innovation, let alone a ga-changing revival.

Players would just get more and more burned out, playing less and less until they dropped it altogether.

It was a one-way street—and there was no fix.

Because every tower defense ga followed the sa model—

Set a path, send enemies down it, players build towers to shoot them, upgrade the towers, and protect the objective.

As long as the genre’s existed, this formula has ruled it.

But breaking this mold was actually pretty simple.

For example, you could add multiple upgrade branches to each tower, with different effects. And when towers reach a certain level, you could give them abilities like absorption or fusion...

Exactly!

I’m talking about Bloons Tower Defense—one of the three legendary tower defense gas from my previous life!

That was Gu Sheng’s first instinct.

But then he thought again—compared to Carrot Defense, while Bloons Tower Defense did improve tower chanics and playability, its innovation wasn’t all that groundbreaking.

The enemies still followed predetermined paths. The towers were still placed at wide-angle corners. Still your standard, traditional tower defense.

The sa went for Kingdom Rush, the second of the big three.

Which ant, out of the trio, only one was left worth considering...

Gu Sheng smacked his lips silently.

Sorry, but I have way too many gas in my head. Practically every genre has at least one—sotis multiple—era-defining titles.

Gas are endless. But my lifespan isn’t. With the treasure trove in this system, I probably couldn’t finish making them all even in three lifetis.

So when it cos to choosing what to develop, I’ve got no choice but to go for the absolute nukes.

I’d love to just toss out a single six... but my whole hand is bombs.

Sigh... Yeah, that’s the boring reality of having a system-backed life—mundane and flavorless.

Screw it, let’s just throw out a hand of four twos and have so fun.

“Forget Carrot Defense, then,”

Gu Sheng took a sip of his milk tea, decision made.

“Let’s defend your brain instead!”

——

“Defend... the brain?”

The next day!

In the Golden Wind conference room!

Yuki clutched her head with both hands like she was afraid Gu Sheng might literally eat her brain.

“I don’t get it, Director.”

Earlier that day, Secretary Chu had called all of Steel Chain Fingers Studio into the conference room, saying there was a new project for them.

Everyone had been thrilled.

After all, they were part of a brand-new studio. The more idle they were, the more awkward it felt (mainly because the salaries were too generous—getting paid that much to do nothing was seriously unnerving).

Especially Sato and Yuki.

Before Steel Chain Fingers was ford, both of them had been working on the Escape from Hell project.

Then, boom—new studio got launched, they were promoted to team leads, and pulled out of the Escape from Hell dev team.

With nothing on their plates all of a sudden, both of them felt out of place.

So when they heard there was a new project?

Everyone at Steel Chain Fingers got hyped and rushed into the eting room to await their assignnts.

But no one expected—

The first thing out of the director’s mouth would be a warning to protect their brains!

Everyone froze!

Oh no—was President Gu planning another one of his creepy horror gas?

You have to understand—

Out of the nine people in Steel Chain Fingers, more than half had worked under Gu Sheng on PT!

That final testing phase of the ga had been pure torture!

Scaring yourself half to death with your own ga? That’s next-level trauma, even in this industry.

Now, hearing the director ntion brains right off the bat had everyone on edge. They were terrified of whatever twisted idea he might be cooking up this ti.

Seeing everyone’s nervous faces, Gu Sheng realized they’d misunderstood.

He chuckled.

“No need to be nervous, everyone. This ti we’re just making a mini ga. A simple little tower defense ga,”

“A ga about holding off zombies and protecting your brains.”

Upon hearing that, everyone looked at each other, and the concept instantly began forming in their minds—

Zombies shambling along a winding path, heading for the final point.

On either side of the path, a variety of towers standing tall.

So fired bullets, so spewed flas, so shot electricity, and of course, there’d be that screen-clearing nuke you had to pay to unlock.

Oh, and zombie types too.

Didn’t the company already have a zombie IP with Left 4 Dead? They could port over the special infected from that ga—not only would it boost gaplay variety, but it’d hit all the right nostalgia notes for old fans.

Once the ga was out, it’d be like Qin Shi Huang flying—a massive win from the get-go!

Hot d*mn!!!

Hearing the murmurs and discussions flying around, Shen Miaomiao was stunned.

These veterans really were next-level!

Gu didn’t even have to say anything—they basically designed a complete tower defense ga through sheer brainstorming.

And not just the gaplay and chanics—they even thought of emotional resonance and nostalgia.

Truly a fully automated ga production machine.

Thankfully this was just a side project, so she didn’t have to worry about it being too successful. After all, this whole ga was just a bonus item to boost the rebate multiplier.

But—

Before she could even nod in agreent—

Gu Sheng suddenly chuckled and said: “Not a bad idea... but the sa-old chanics are still a problem. It doesn’t really stand out from the rest of the tower defense market. Anyone else got a different angle?”

That...

Hearing that, the whole Steel Chain Fingers team went silent.

Director Gu’s words hit the nail on the head.

The saness—that was the biggest weakness in their quick brainstorming session.

But the problem was... when you looked at the current tower defense market, all the gas were like that!

Sure, they wanted to innovate. But where exactly were they supposed to start?

At this point, the entire tower defense genre felt like a fortress—solid and sealed tight. There was no crack to slip through.

Breaking and reshaping it? Easier said than done.

“Don’t box yourselves in,” Gu Sheng said with a smile, seeing their silence. “Your next tower defense... doesn’t have to be ‘tower’ defense.”

As he spoke, he turned slightly and clicked the remote in his hand.

Behind him, the projector screen lit up—and a ga cover filled the display!

A peaceful, cartoon-style suburban town stretched across the screen. A street ran through the middle of the image.

On the right side of the street, green-skinned zombies with goofy expressions shuffled along—so carried briefcases, others had ice cream cones on their heads.

On the left side, vibrant plants of all shapes and sizes stood resolute at the edge of a garden—each one like a brave little soldier, holding the line against the zombie horde.

And at the top of the cover, the ga’s na stood out in bold letters:

PLANTS—lush and green.

ZOMBIES—gray and tombstone-like.

“Plants can hold off zombies. Gardens can be battlegrounds too,”

Gu Sheng turned to the stunned team, spread his hands, and grinned:

“Relax. Let’s make a kid-friendly version of Plants vs. Zombies.”