Agreeing to Create Bad Games, What the Hell Is ‘Titanfall’? Chapter 61: Reflections on Second-Gen FPS!

#“Crossfire Shuttle” celebrates two years since its launch on the haptic pod platform—today's event kicks off!

#Weiwang D announces partnership with Spitfire Studio under Yunwei to develop the strongest FPS of the haptic pod era!

#Dianshi Gas delays “Heavy Assault”!

#“Gunfire Chronicles 2” announces pre-production completion!

#Santu Studio releases “Outpost 3” trailer!

#…#

In the office of the Golden Wind Ga’s Director, Gu Sheng leaned back in his chair, scrolling the mouse wheel as he watched a string of news tick by on the screen.

Yes.

Lately, he had been paying close attention to the shooting ga market.

From PC to haptic pods, shooting gas had always been a hot genre in the market.

He knew that Golden Wind would eventually have to step into this popular arena, going head-to-head with both dostic and global gaming giants.

So, it was crucial to plan ahead.

And through his recent research, Gu Sheng realized that the shooting ga market in this world was a wild ss.

There were first-person, third-person, single-player, multiplayer; modern, futuristic; realistic, fantastical—everything under the sun.

But, much like horror gas, the core of shooting gas seed to be the sa old formula.

For single-player titles, it was all about the protagonist mowing down enemies and clearing levels—just mindless shooting with maybe a knife thrown in here or there.

The last major design innovation could be traced back twenty years to the PC classic “Max Payne” with its bullet-ti chanic.

As for multiplayer gas, they were even more stuck in a rut.

Western gas leaned towards team-based matches—kill counts, scoreboards, the usual.

Dostic gas focused on bomb-defusal modes, with attackers and defenders swapping sides in a cops-and-robbers showdown.

And!

To this day, whether in haptic pods or elsewhere, there hadn't been a single sighting of a so-called “Second-Gen FPS.”

So, what exactly was a “Second-Gen FPS”?

It was a concept where, while keeping the fun of a shooting ga intact, every in-ga system would strive to be as realistic as possible.

For example, in a Second-Gen FPS, you wouldn’t have a floating reticle anymore—you’d have to aim through the weapon’s chanical or optical sights.

Or, instead of a fixed 100 health points, the ga would use a dynamic health system, where your condition was judged by in-ga feedback.

Of course, there wasn’t a strict definition dividing First-Gen and Second-Gen FPS gas.

If Gu Sheng were to draw from his past life’s gas, CS would be the archetypal First-Gen FPS, while COD would stand as the classic Second-Gen FPS.

But in this world, there was no Call of Duty. No Battlefield either.

Perhaps it was because First-Gen FPS design had been too successful—most shooters still stuck with the floating crosshair model.

The only ga that ca close to Second-Gen FPS was the “Crossfire Shuttle” with its XM8’s secondary aim mode.

Most developers didn’t seem to care much about “shooting style” at all.

Single-player studios focused on how to make their stories more exciting and their effects flashier.

Multiplayer studios were all about fine-tuning the feel of the ga to keep the competition fierce.

Oh, and of course, so studios didn’t give a d*** about any of that. They were too busy pumping out 888-legendary-tier weapons and spinning prize wheels.

Maybe, given ti, soone would figure out the Second-Gen FPS model.

After all, as haptic pods beca more popular by the day, soone was bound to think of this gaplay approach eventually.

But for now, no one had.

Gu Sheng decided—he’d be the first to take the leap.

Or better yet—he’d go for a cooler title: The Father of Second-Gen FPS.

And to earn a title like “Father of XXX,” the first requirent was to make a pioneering, genre-defining ga.

So, he set his sights on the Call of Duty: Modern Warfare Trilogy!

Soap, Ghost, Makarov, those poor civilians at the Moscow airport…

The tragic, epic narratives didn’t just give COD its identity—they also set the benchmark for single-player storytelling in future Second-Gen FPS gas.

But…

Gu Sheng only took a quick glance before backing off.

S***, the whole trilogy was a bundle—5 million emotion points needed!

So, he pivoted and set his sights on its old rival—Titanfall 2.

Sa epic story, sa heart-wrenching finale.

And that ending? It hit even harder than Modern Warfare, leaving players reeling!

But again…

Gu Sheng took one look, then backed off.

S***, 1 million emotion points—and that’s not even including multiplayer!

Gu Sheng was speechless.

Like, seriously? Just six hours of gaplay, and you want a million emotion points?

A college student makes 50,000 a month tops! And that’s if you’re a model with long legs!

He’d thought the 100,000 he earned monthly from “Phasmophobia” was already impressive.

But compared to these two beasts? He just felt powerless.

Clearly, he still had a long way to go before he could set the benchmark for a Second-Gen FPS…

Just then, there was a knock at the door.

Knock knock—

He turned and saw Lu Bian striking a very flamboyant pose, leaning against the doorfra:

“Old Gu, I’ve got two pieces of news for you.”

“…What are you, Yu Zecheng or sothing? How do you always have news?”

Gu Sheng crossed his arms and leaned back in the chair:

“Special Agent Lu, what’s the scoop today? Sa as always? One good, one bad?”

“Uh…”

Lu Bian walked into the office, poured himself a glass of water, and sat on the sofa.

“Hate to disappoint you.”

“Wha—?”

Gu Sheng looked surprised.

“Two bad news?”

“Nope,” Lu Bian waved it off and took a sip, “Two good news.”

“Your phrasing…” Gu Sheng had no words for Lu Bian’s language skills. “So, what are the good news?”

“The first is that our ‘Phasmophobia’ monthly sales figures are out,” Lu Bian said.

“After our week one sales of 55,000 copies, the numbers haven’t dropped off at all—just plowing through the horror ga category, leaving a trail of bodies and rivers of blood!”

“Four consecutive weeks at the top of the horror ga charts, monthly revenue of 13.56 million, and after platform cuts and costs, net profit of 8.85 million!”

Over 8 million in profit!

For a haptic pod horror ga that only cost 2 million to make, this was practically legendary.

Usually, ga sales taper off after the first week.

But “Phasmophobia”? Its sales were like a teenager in their pri—hard as diamonds, staying strong without fading.

Definitely good news.

Gu Sheng nodded.

Over 8 million in pure profit, plus the bits and pieces from other gas—that ant they’d have over 10 million in funds to burn for the next project.

Life’s good when you’re flush with cash.

Gu Sheng thought to himself.

Because, damn, being in a comfort zone really was too f***ing comfortable.

No financial constraints—spend as much as you want, no worries. That was the dream.

Just this alone, Golden Wind had the potential to surpass Ubisoft in his past life.

After all, Ubisoft even used potatoes as servers.

“What about the second good news?”

Gu Sheng asked.

“Oh, the second one’s an invitation letter. Here, take a look.”

Lu Bian pulled a letter from his notebook and handed it over.

Gu Sheng opened it and read:

“Per the Cultural Bureau’s directive to further advance the Huaxia gaming industry, foster resource-sharing and collaboration, and accelerate the growth of our nation’s entertainnt sector…

The Huaxia International Digital Entertainnt Association, together with various ga dia, cordially invites your company to participate in the ‘10th Ga Industry (Haptic Pod Category) Developer & dia Conference’…”

“Holy sh**, Huayu Dian is inviting us?”

Gu Sheng was surprised.

“We’re at that level already?”

As the largest semi-official, non-profit gaming organization in the country, Huayu Dian was the undisputed kingpin of the industry.

Gu Sheng knew that every year, Huayu Dian would hold four developer-dia conferences—haptic pod, PC, mobile, and comprehensive—once per quarter.

One, to give developers a platform for publicity and exchange.

Two, to build up montum for the annual China Digital Interactive Entertainnt Expo (Chinajoy).

Yup, there was a CJ in this world too.

But unlike the ssy, downhill CJ of his past life, this CJ was one of the world’s Big Four gaming expos, alongside Gascom, Tokyo Ga Show, and E3!

In fact, if a ga could make a splash at CJ, it was almost guaranteed to show up in one of the world’s top three gaming awards.

And if you wanted to break into the international market and go toe-to-toe with the old gaming giants, Huayu Dian’s Developer & dia Conference was the first step.

Gu Sheng was surprised because he never expected that Golden Wind—a studio not even a year old—could score an invite!

Damn.

Gu Sheng muttered inwardly.

It was starting to feel like he was a character in one of those wish-fulfillnt urban novels, just cruising along on smooth seas.

Then again, he had a system.

If soone threw him into an author’s story, he probably would be the protagonist.

Thinking that, Gu Sheng couldn’t help but chuckle at how ridiculous the thought sounded.

“This is a great opportunity,” Lu Bian said, seeing Gu Sheng nod repeatedly.

“If we can get coverage at this dia conference, we’ll have a solid foothold in the haptic pod gaming space.”

A single developer conference could give a studio a foothold in a whole genre?

That sounded crazy.

But in reality, Gu Sheng knew Lu Bian wasn’t exaggerating.

With Huayu Dian’s clout, they absolutely had that kind of influence.

The problem was…

Gu Sheng’s brows furrowed even deeper.

The timing was awkward.

No doubt, this was a golden chance to pitch the Second-Gen FPS concept.

With Huayu Dian’s reach, if the dia took notice of the idea at the conference, it would be a massive boost for their future FPS titles.

Once a year—this was a can’t-miss opportunity.

But the issue was, both COD and Titanfall 2 were way out of their league in terms of production costs and emotion points.

What if they just dropped a trailer for now?

Technically, that could work.

After all, the developer conference was like a mini gaming expo—showing trailers was totally normal.

And a trailer was doable—just a couple of minutes of rendered animation, a few scenes dressed up as in-ga footage.

With three months left until the conference, they had enough ti to pull that off.

But the problem was!

Once you had a trailer, you’d need a ga to back it up!

Where was the ga going to co from?

Gu Sheng did so rough calculations. If they tried to bring Titanfall into the haptic pod platform in this world, it would cost at least 100 million!

Which ant they were still 90 million short—plus they’d need another 900,000 emotion points!

That was just impossible!

They had the idea, but no at on the bones. Without even a “New Folder” to their na, they couldn’t even say they were “working on it”!

Sure, big studios could get away with vaporware—players would just it like they did with GTA6 or Elder Scrolls 6.

But for a small studio like Golden Wind? It could be fatal.

Players had very little patience for a small studio.

As ti dragged on, if they couldn’t deliver, the negative impact would snowball—hurting even their future ga sales!

Thinking of that, Gu Sheng shook his head.

No, they couldn’t just recklessly throw up a trailer.

Most importantly, just the idea of impacting ga sales was sothing Little Nezha, as the president of Golden Wind, would never accept.

After all, judging by her investnt habits, she was a firm believer in ga quality and would definitely want their gas to be loved by as many players as possible.

She’d never tolerate a hit to sales.

So what should he do…

Gu Sheng thought as he doodled on the notepad by his hand—Second-Gen FPS, 100-million-level investnt, 100,000 emotion points, unique gaplay concepts…

“Hmm—”

Gu Sheng pondered.

Lu Bian knew that Old Gu was deep in thought about the type of ga they should bring to the conference, so he stayed quiet, tossing Gu Sheng a cigarette as he sat back.

The two sat in silence.

Suddenly!

The office door knocked again!

Knock knock knock—

“Um… Director Gu, do you have a mont?”

He turned and saw Chu Qingzhou at the door:

“President Shen is back. She said if you have ti, please co to her office.”

Oh ho?

Gu Sheng’s eyes lit up!

This was like getting a pillow right when you wanted to sleep, or having your in-laws drop by just when you needed help.

Little Nezha had been gone for nearly a week.

Now she was back, just in ti for this crucial mont!

After all—

The success of Vampire Survivors and Phasmophobia had been as much her achievent as his!

“Alright, I’ll head over now.”

With that, Gu Sheng grabbed the docunts on his desk, stood up, and made his way out.

Let’s see what President Shen has to say…