The money was enough, but even so, in a less noticeable corner, there were still three or five people sweating profusely, rummaging through drawers. Their pockets were turned inside out, and piles of loose change littered their workstations. Someone was whispering for help, “Not enough! Not enough!” It turned out one of these young guys had also been hit in the face by the money bomb, but being a man of honor, after dizzily returning to his department with the money, he loudly announced it and, under everyone’s encouragement, generously shared the spoils. By noon, they had gone out for a lavish spending spree, but now, they found themselves in a mess they couldn’t clean up. The guy who had been hit was nearly in tears, but what could they do? They were all single, living paycheck to paycheck, not usually carrying much cash. Seeing their manager, who was so anxious he was almost scratching his head, they felt like jumping off a building.
Later events, alas, were like a dream, not worth looking back on. Sun Chen shook his head in frustration, pulling his thoughts back to the present. The top priority now was stability. This newly established game zone was the result of two sleepless days and nights of hard work. With less than twenty minutes until the server opening, there was no turning back. After the fool left, the top executives, furious, summoned Sun Chen, the technical director, nearly drowning him in their spittle. Given their menacing looks, if not for the fact that his work was irreplaceable in the short term, they might have really considered skinning him alive. This new server was a direct order from the top, and he had only forty-eight hours to get it done.
Though the executives didn’t explicitly say it, they hinted that in this new zone, codenamed “Virtual Sky,” a feature allowing players to earn double experience points through tipping should be added. Simply put, it was an open door for players to level up quickly with real money. To put it more bluntly, in this so-called Virtual Sky zone, as long as players were willing to spend, the tipping system for double experience points had no upper limit; players could level up to the supreme level in a minute if they so desired. This was a desperate move, abandoning the game’s core feature of player balance! Although he knew it was a short-term fix with long-term consequences, Marumi, cornered, had to make this painful choice. The executives subtly conveyed that if they couldn’t appease this group represented by the fool, the game, which depended on its balanced system, could be shut down at any moment. The fools had this power!
Sun Chen knew he had caused a major disaster, but he had no choice but to take on this military order to set up the new zone “Virtual Sky” within forty-eight hours. After days of relentless work, the new zone’s functions were finally smooth, just an hour before the deadline. Who would have thought, fearing what might come, just minutes after they connected the network for preliminary testing, that detestable, despicable Ghost Hand Without Mercy appeared once again out of nowhere. Seeing his team members with red, furious eyes, Sun Chen’s heart tightened repeatedly. It was just a job to make a living; they shouldn’t have to suffer like him. But the situation was unique; Sun Chen was so pressured by the executives that he felt like jumping off a building. He had a wife and kids to support, and nearly all his savings were invested in the company’s internal shares, counting on the year-end dividends to live on! The executives gave him a hard time, forcing him to complete the task within forty-eight hours, or else they would all jump from the 48th floor together. Chen Sun concealed the truth and spun a beautiful soap bubble, mysteriously telling his subordinates that the gullible old man, rich but foolish, was planning to fully acquire Marumi. Therefore, the higher-ups decided to urgently develop a new zone specifically designed to burn through money, intending to use this newly created illusion to swindle all the assets from the old man and make his acquisition fail. The idea of a virtual terminal 156 was so absurdly ridiculous that it sounded like a fabrication. However, circumstances were pressing. Among Chen Sun’s subordinates, several key members had previously taken money from the naive old man, spent it on gambling, and couldn’t repay it. Chen Sun used both kindness and authority, generously covering their debts, and then immediately dangled a huge carrot, claiming that once the new zone was successfully launched, everyone in the tech department would receive a special, substantial bonus from the executive office, at least ten times their monthly salary (and Chen Sun wasn’t deceiving them about the bonuses; the big bosses were willing to spend lavishly to get rid of this troublesome issue). Moreover, all in-game tips from players after the launch would be distributed proportionally among the tech team members who had worked hard. Under such heavy rewards, there must be brave men; this has always been an ancient truth. Those who had witnessed the situation that day knew that deserting now would not end well—it was a case of all for one, one for all. Despite the slim chances of success, everyone rolled up their sleeves and got to work.
Unexpectedly, the development process went exceptionally smoothly. The new server’s framework was quickly debugged, and the game script migration also progressed without hitches. What seemed impossible was actually accomplished by this group. However, just at this critical juncture, that despicable, vile, shameless, and perverse Ghost Hand Ruthless, like a ghost, suddenly appeared again at this key moment, in this crucial moment where there was no room for regret.
“Ghost Hand Ruthless, you damned bastard! What do you want?” Efforts had been made by cybersecurity experts to contact him, but to no avail. Seeing the grim and ashamed faces of the cybersecurity experts, everyone knew the outcome. Watching the player ID “Ghost Hand Ruthless” in the game rapidly level up, everyone’s hearts sank into the icy abyss.
The collective anger lasted only a brief moment; after everyone’s fury subsided, what remained was painful silence, suppression, and frustration. Those with weaker psychological endurance were on the verge of fainting. But the issue had to be resolved; there was no room for escape.
“Head, make a decision quickly! We have fifteen minutes before the new server goes live!”
Kai Wang was the only one in the tech department who had previously received the old man’s favor, and Chen Sun had resolved a major crisis for him. Therefore, he was particularly grateful to Chen Sun and always wanted to repay him. Having just graduated, Kai hadn’t lost his scholarly demeanor, or else he wouldn’t have done something as foolish as dividing money in the name of brotherhood. Young people are full of energy.
Upon hearing Kai’s words, Chen Sun’s eyes lit up. He pulled Kai aside and lowered his voice: “Kai, how have I treated you usually?”
“You’ve always been good to me, Brother Chen, I always keep that in mind.”
In private, Chen Sun would often foster camaraderie with his subordinates, using terms like “Brother Chen” or “Brother Sun” as a means to control them. These titles were tailored to each individual, a carefully crafted tool for managing his team. Otherwise, with just a vocational school education, how could he have managed a group of PhDs and master’s degree holders in a multinational like Marumi for five years in the role of Technical Director?
Chen Sun’s ambitions weren’t large, and he truly was good to his subordinates. His little tricks were merely survival tactics. But times had changed, and now, he knew he had to use his trump card to save himself. Making this decision was a struggle, but looking at Kai’s youthful face, he forced himself to harden his heart. He had a wife and children to support!
