Sun Peng stared at the screen, his throat dry. 200,000 downloads in under 24 hours. By this rate, Stone Age Overlord would infect every Stone Age Online player within a week. The math was brutal: even if only half of those users stuck around after the free trial, it'd still eclipse Abei Plugins' entire customer base.
A junior programmer tried to lighten the mood. "They'll charge eventually. Users'll drop off—"
"And if they price below 15 yuan?" Sun snapped. "We're finished."
Jia Bei, Abei's original founder, blurted, "We'll slash prices! Ten yuan!"
Sun shot him a withering glare. "And when they drop to zero? Sound familiar?"
The room fell silent.
Haizhou, Big Spider Internet Café
Zhao Kang slumped in his chair, dazed. "If we charged… how many would pay?"
Li Mu shrugged. "Maybe 30,000. Fifty grand a month. Tops."
"Fifty grand?!" Zhao choked. "My parents earn two grand a year!"
"Distributors take cuts. Cafés skim profits. We'd net maybe ten."
"Ten thousand a month?!" Zhao's voice cracked. "We'd be billionaires in a decade!"
"This isn't a career." Li Mu leaned back, lighting a cigarette—a habit resurrected from his past life. "We're drug dealers at a nightclub."
Zhao blinked. "What?"
"Game companies are the clubs. They sell tickets, drinks—legit income. We're the ones peddling ecstasy. We make the experience wilder, but the club hates us. Eventually…"
"They'll shut us down," Zhao muttered.
"Exactly. Two, three years max. Then laws tighten. So we cash out now."
Beijing, 6:00 PM
Sun Peng's cursor hovered over the rejection notice:
[System Alert]
User 'NoMercy' declined your friend request.
"NoMercy?!" Sun slammed his desk. "Who the hell names themselves that?!"
Behind him, programmers exchanged uneasy glances.
Haizhou, 6:30 PM
"Why reject him?!" Zhao hissed as they left the café.
Li Mu grinned. "Let him sweat. Desperation sweetens deals."
At the counter, owner Er Bin waved off payment. "Keep the booth. Tomorrow's on me."
"What about storage?" Li Mu asked casually. "Ever seen a CD burner?"
Er Bin nodded. "Borrowing one tomorrow. HP model."
Relief washed over Li Mu. No more relying on volatile café PCs.
As dusk painted the streets amber, Zhao muttered, "This feels… dangerous."
Li Mu flicked his cigarette, the ember glowing like a tiny rebellion. "Danger's where the money is."