Agreeing to Create Bad Games, What the Hell Is ‘Titanfall’? Chapter 83: This Game Logo is Way Too Abstract

It was nightti.

Building 8, Binjiang No. 1.

Shen Miaomiao lay sprawled on a French-style sofa, her head tilted against the cushion as she watched a TV drama projected onto a laser screen.

A long straw stretched from a can of Coke on the coffee table, snaking all the way into her mouth.

Her small hands, covered in crumbs from potato chips, kept reaching into the bag in a chanical rhythm.

Crunch—Crunch—

Gulp, gulp, gulp—

“Ahhh—”

After a big gulp of soda, Shen Miaomiao let out a contented sigh:

“Now this is the life.”

Right in the middle of her blissful mont—

Ding—

A soft chi rang from the small elevator on the side of the living room.

As the elevator doors slid open, a middle-aged man with graying temples but a dignified and upright posture walked out.

His pace was unhurried, his deanor elegant.

“What are you doing back here? Didn’t you say you’d stay in your dump tonight?”

He walked out of the elevator, took off his jacket, and handed it to the housekeeper who greeted him.

Before he even finished his sentence, Shen Miaomiao sat up from the sofa, leaning her hands on the backrest, flashing a bright grin at him:

“Missed you, Dad.”

That’s right—

The man stepping out from the garage elevator wasn’t anyone else but Shen Miaomiao’s old man, Shen Wanlin.

“Missed ? Heh!”

Shen Wanlin let out a dry chuckle:

“No money.”

“Ugh! Dad, co on... that makes our relationship sound so cold!”

Shen Miaomiao was flustered. She jumped off the sofa, ran barefoot over to him, and started massaging his shoulders and back while nudging him toward the sofa:

“Co on, co on, sit down, let’s chat.”

The housekeeper brought over a cup of freshly brewed tea, which Shen Miaomiao quickly took and handed to Shen Wanlin:

“Here, my dearest father, please have so tea.”

Shen Wanlin glanced at his daughter’s ingratiating smile with full suspicion, waved her off, and refused:

“Last ti you handed a pair of slippers and tried to charge thirty-eight grand. This ti, bringing tea, are you aiming for six figures?”

“No way!”

Shen Miaomiao shook her head rapidly, raising the tea cup as if to swear her innocence:

“Nowhere near six figures, I promise.”

Still suspicious, Shen Wanlin eyed her for a mont before hesitantly accepting the cup and taking a careful sip of the just-right-temperature tea.

And right then—

Shen Miaomiao wasted no ti:

“Actually, it’s eight figures. I’d like to borrow ten million. Can’t say no after accepting my tea, right? That’s what you always taught !”

But the next second—

Clunk!

Shen Wanlin set down the cup and let out a cold snort:

“Have another look—when have I ever owed anyone a favor over a cup of tea?”

Shen Miaomiao stared—

The tea in the cup hadn’t moved a drop! The water level was exactly the sa as before!

What the f***?! He hadn’t even drunk it!

“Dad!”

Shen Miaomiao’s eyes widened in disbelief:

“You’d even pull a trick on ?!”

“Hey—”

Shen Wanlin waved her off, correcting her calmly:

“That’s called reciprocity.”

“You... I...!”

Shen Miaomiao was left utterly speechless.

Seeing her little sche had failed, she pouted her lips and put on a pitiful, teary-eyed act, sniffing and mumbling:

“I know I’m not up to your standards... Other kids inherit the family business early, but , a re daughter, I’m just a burden to you...”

“If that’s the case, I’ll just leave this house, so I don’t get in your way...”

She sniffled, stood up dramatically, and made to leave for the door.

Shen Wanlin’s voice rang out behind her:

“Don’t forget to close the door on your way out.”

Shen Miaomiao: ...

“Dad, you’re so an!”

She stomped her foot, completely subdued by her unyielding old man, muttering:

“Fine, fine, I won’t borrow it. Stingy old man.”

Grumbling, she slumped back onto the sofa with a thud, crossing her legs and starting to focus her energy.

Seeing his daughter like that, Shen Wanlin couldn’t help but chuckle. He picked up his tea, took a sip, and said:

“You’re a big boss now too. Why do you always think of coming to for help when things get tough?”

“Besides, all you see is not giving you money. Have you thought about how I might help you in other ways?”

“Help ?” Shen Miaomiao pursed her lips. “If you really want to help, just lend the ten million. Nothing else matters to .”

“Nothing else matters, huh...”

Looking at his sulking daughter, Shen Wanlin nodded slowly and said:

“Alright, I’ll lend you ten million.”

“Huh?!”

Shen Miaomiao’s eyes lit up instantly, sparkling with excitent!

“Really?”

“Really.”

Shen Wanlin nodded and, without missing a beat, pulled out a stack of docunts from his briefcase and tossed them onto the coffee table. Then he added:

“But on one condition—start rehiring. As of now, your company’s ga director, art director, and programming director... all left for Glory Gas.”

“Co on, tell what project you need that ten million for.”

He crossed his arms, ready to listen, clearly waiting for a good show.

“Huh... huh?”

His words left Shen Miaomiao confused.

She reached for the docunts on the table and frowned as she read them—

They were detailed dossiers from over a dozen headhunting firms, all about Gu Sheng, Lu Bian, and Da Jiang.

Below were even suggestions for their potential roles and salary offers.

Clearly, soone had been targeting Golden Wind, trying to poach Gu Sheng and the others.

But—

It looked like before the plan could even begin, Shen Wanlin had stepped in and shut it all down.

Shen Miaomiao stared at the dossiers, then at her dad. Thinking back to his earlier question—

Even if she did get that ten million, what could she really do with it?

Create sothing quirky like Cat Mario?

Or sothing darkly funny like Who’s Your Daddy?

Maybe sothing addictively chaotic like Vampire Survivors?

Or a horror ga that defines the genre, like Phasmophobia?

Or perhaps lead a movent like Left 4 Dead with the slogan “Make FPS Great Again”?

She didn’t know.

Because all of those—

Were Gu Sheng’s creations.

Without him, she had nothing.

A wave of unease crept over her, making her palms a little clammy.

Not just because Gu Sheng was her system-bound ga director.

But because, sowhere deep down, there was also an unclear, indescribable feeling mixed in.

“Sweetheart...”

While Shen Miaomiao was still in a daze, Shen Wanlin’s voice, earnest and sincere, rang out:

“Running a business isn’t child’s play. You and your friends at the company, you’re all peers, you have shared ideals. I’m proud of that.”

“But you can’t rely on shared ideals alone to run a company.”

“You need dreams and bread on the table.”

“I’ve been paying attention to Gu Sheng’s speeches. That kid’s sharp, level-headed, and eloquent. Even with my eyes closed, I know there are countless companies gunning for him.”

“You really can’t afford to lose him.”

“Otherwise...”

He paused, seeing his daughter’s thoughtful expression, and raised an eyebrow:

“Your Golden Wind won’t last three months. Then you’ll have to co back ho to take over the family business. Or... marry that kid from the Peng family.”

“You an Uncle Peng’s son?!”

At that, Shen Miaomiao shot up like her tail had been stepped on, huddling in the corner of the sofa, trembling:

“That weirdo looks like an unfinished product of evolution. You’d have marry that thing? Might as well kill !”

Looking at his daughter’s expression of utter resistance, Shen Wanlin chuckled softly:

“Well, it’s your choice...”

With that, he finished his tea, got up, and said:

“Alright, it’s late. Get so rest. Don’t co by tomorrow.”

“Huh?” Shen Miaomiao’s lips drooped again: “You’re kicking out?”

Shen Wanlin waved her off:

“Every ti you co back, it’s to ask for money. Stay away from .”

Shen Miaomiao: ...

“Dad, sotis the things you say really hurt...”

What to do?!

Ever since sending off Jiang Yingcai and the others yesterday, Gu Sheng had been pondering this question.

He’d been researching the history of the Asia Ga Developers Conference, and one thing stood out:

Since its inception twenty years ago, only five gas had ever won the prestigious Crown Award.

The first was Dead or Alive, a fighting ga from Japan’s TNK Gas, which debuted at the conference and caused a sensation, easily claiming the crown.

The second was Fire Assault by Korea’s Jinju Studio, a first-generation FPS that introduced the concept of fixed loadouts without an economic system, inspiring gas like Fireline.

The third was League of Legends, which stord the conference with its groundbreaking “MOBA genre” and took the crown.

The fourth and fifth were Green Field and Global Formula, two sports and racing gas that each introduced notable gaplay innovations.

Looking at the conference’s history—

Every single winning ga had one thing in common: a pioneering gaplay feature.

This innovation could be big or small, but it was non-negotiable.

For Golden Wind to win, innovation was key.

Whether it was shooters, fighters, sports, or racing, the gaplay had to stand out and outshine the competition.

Especially with only fifty million in funding—

There was no way they could outmatch the technical powerhouses with hundred-million-dollar budgets.

To win, they had to innovate.

Golden Wind’s biggest advantage was their trailblazing “second-gen FPS.”

They had to capitalize on that montum.

But—

A second-gen FPS alone wasn’t enough to compete with the best designers across Asia.

To truly boost their chances of winning, they needed to push the envelope even further within the second-gen FPS genre.

That thought sparked a flash of inspiration in Gu Sheng’s mind:

“Second-gen FPS... eSports... innovative gaplay...”

As he mumbled to himself, he scribbled ideas in his notebook.

Just then—

Knock knock knock—

A knock at the door.

“Co in.”

Gu Sheng’s train of thought paused as he called out.

The door opened, and in poked Shen Miaomiao, sneaky as a thief, holding a docunt folder and peeking in:

“Old Gu? You got a minute?”

“Maybe... maybe not.” Gu Sheng shrugged, not knowing what shenanigans Little Nezha was up to now. “What’s up?”

“Pfft,”

Shen Miaomiao smacked her lips in mock dissatisfaction:

“You’re just like my dad, so guarded! Relax, I’ve got good news.”

“What good news?”

Gu Sheng gestured for her to co in and take a seat, placing his notebook on the table and eyeing Little Nezha with curiosity:

“Did your dad cough up the money?”

“Ehhhh...”

Shen Miaomiao hesitated:

“Sort of, but... not exactly.”

Gu Sheng frowned:

“Not exactly how?”

Shen Miaomiao pointed at him:

“Not exactly... because it’s for you.”

“Huh?!”

Gu Sheng recoiled, clutching his kidneys:

“Hold on, I’ve bled for Golden Wind, I’ve contributed, you can’t take my kidneys for this!”

Shen Miaomiao rolled her eyes:

“Your kidneys aren’t worth ten million, okay?”

She pulled a docunt out of the folder and handed it to Gu Sheng:

“Here.”

“What’s this?” Gu Sheng took it and glanced down.

“A profit-sharing agreent,”

Shen Miaomiao said with a grin:

“Old Shen didn’t give the money, but he did cough up a favor for you three. Well, for the three of you. A little token of goodwill.”

“Based on our current company scale, by the end of this year, we’ll allocate 10% of net profits as a bonus pool.”

“Split by proportion: , you, Lu Bian, and Da Jiang, the four execs, each get a share.”

“You and I each get 40%, they each get 10%.”

“Of course, this is temporary—once we grow, the pool will expand, and the ratios will adjust.”

Then—

Shen Miaomiao tilted her head proudly, a little smirk curling at her lips, looking like a kid waiting for praise:

“Well? Pretty decent of , right?”

That’s right.

After her dad helped defuse the poaching crisis last night, Shen Miaomiao had barely slept a wink.

It finally hit her—when she’d said “Old Gu, this family can’t do without you,”

It wasn’t just a joke.

Without Gu Sheng, she was like a bird without wings.

And without her, Gu Sheng was like a fish without a bicycle.

So!

To keep the fish happy in the bicycle basket, she decided to upgrade the basket—

By adding a fish tank!

Looking at Gu Sheng’s surprised and delighted expression, Shen Miaomiao felt deeply satisfied.

Great! The fish likes the basket upgrade—that’s all she needed to know.

But as she nodded to herself, she happened to catch a glimpse of the notebook Gu Sheng had set aside.

Tilting her head to get a better look, she asked, puzzled:

“Old Gu, what’s this... thing you drew?”

“Oh,” Gu Sheng said with a casual lift of his chin, “That’s our ga’s logo for the Asia Ga Developers Conference.”

“Our logo?”

Shen Miaomiao’s eyes widened in shock:

“This is way too abstract!”

“Who the h*** uses a frying pan as a ga logo?!”