Chapter 964: Chapter 528 The Unfixable Bug Chapter 964: Chapter 528 The Unfixable Bug “Crazy, crazy, why are there so many games!”

“Someone help me, a new lunatic has appeared over here! The games he makes are crazier than the next, there’s 30-Second RPG, 31-Second RPG, and now it’s reached 135 seconds!”

“It’s even crazier on my end! I’ve already blocked this game seventeen times, and yet he keeps changing accounts to ask me why I blocked it. Why, you ask? You make a game where poop from the toilet is the protagonist and you’re asking me why!”

Inside the Hall of the Gods of the Heavenly Tao World, the gods were incredibly busy, suffering amidst the surging creative desires of the players.

They were previously worried about the lack of creativity in their animals and plants, but now they were troubled by the excess of creative desire from the players. The games created by millions of players and trillions of Photonic People erupted like a gusher, completely overwhelming them.

Their first step was just an activity; their mission was to make an initial selection of the games created by the players, and then to put them on a special platform for the activity, letting the players play and give their own evaluations.

Afterward, the highly-rated games would receive support from Fang Cheng Studio and be distributed globally, with the profits after costs going to the creators.

Not only that, but the players would also gain tremendous prestige, for being able to stand out among millions of players clearly made the playability of their games beyond doubt.

Moreover, when players rated the games, it was anonymous, and the customer service of Fang Cheng Studio guaranteed there would be no alternate accounts; everything would be carried out under absolutely fair conditions.

There was no political correctness, no so-called virtue signaling; players didn’t need to follow any formula when judging games. If it was fun, they’d give a good review, and if not, they’d simply not recommend it.

And to prevent vote-rigging, players could only vote after playing for ten minutes, and they could only vote once for each game. Coupled with the price of second-hand games at the time, the cost of hiring paid posters was quite high.

The high threshold also lent new significance to the act of voting. Every single vote from a player became extremely important, making the players all the more cautious with their voting.

On the boss’s warship, Zhiyi Heavenly Lord appeared here, quite interested in playing the games made by the players.

There were quite a few players who liked Go, and there were many Go games made, including traditional Go as well as three-dimensional Go, timed Go, tropical Go, and even gacha Go–playing these filled Zhiyi Heavenly Lord with unbridled joy.

However, he still had something he couldn’t quite understand, which was the meaning of the occasional phrase “pinch you pinch you pinch you.”

After playing thousands of distinct Go games, Zhiyi Heavenly Lord took a sip of Spiritual Tea, then turned to Fang Cheng and said, “Great Heavenly Lord, we had no shortage of great powers in our time, so why did no one make such interesting things? I never imagined Go could be played in these ways.”

“I didn’t understand it before, but lately, I’ve had some insights.”

Fang Cheng was quickly going through the games sent by the players, each bringing him some gain.

Ever since he had his own realizations, his understanding of games also kept improving. Now, when he looked at games, he could finally appreciate the ingenious aspects of the games themselves. He was also able to really get into some games he liked.

Hearing Fang Cheng’s response, Zhiyi Heavenly Lord asked curiously, “Because of what?”

“Too stable. Games are a reflection of reality, an imagining and exploration of reality. But our power is too strong. Reality, for us, is a thing almost without secrets; we just have to follow the known path. Those of us who lost our curiosity naturally couldn’t see the interesting aspects of games.”

Zhiyi Heavenly Lord thought for a moment and vaguely understood Fang Cheng’s feelings.

However, this understanding was too mystical for him to put into words; he could only quietly sip his tea, allowing the insight to settle, remembering it in his heart.

Then, he also had some ideas of his own, and drew out a semicircle, presenting it in front of Fang Cheng.

Fang Cheng immediately completed the semicircle, and then sent another back, and thus the two Heavenly Lords began a discussion of the Tao, back and forth between them.

Beside them, the person plagued by misfortune watched the two drawing circles, confused, and asked, “What are they doing?”

“Quiet.” The boss immediately silenced the unlucky one, watching the two intently, “Although I don’t know what they’re doing, it feels comforting, and I want to watch a little longer.”

Watching the boss, seemingly talking to himself, the unlucky person realized the boss was also a bit deranged.

She poured herself a cup of tea, then sat on the sofa, sipping coffee while watching the scenery outside, feeling that this game experience had been quite smooth.

After all, her luck was always bad; either she encountered bugs while playing games, or her machine would crash, but “Nebula” had not had any problems so far, which was almost like striking fortune.

She didn’t have to review the player’s games, and the typically chatty boss was also engrossed in watching Fang Cheng EX and Zhiyi drawing circles, so now was her rare opportunity to slack off.

Opening the internal game platform of “Nebula,” she brought up the otome romance game she had played halfway through yesterday and happily started playing again.

The content of this game was incredibly cliche–it was set in a world of swords and magic where the Holy Maiden of Light came to a magic academy, carrying her destiny, embarking on a three-year learning journey, and reaching different endings based on the protagonist’s attributes and triggered events along the way.

Although the plot was old-fashioned and the stats mediocre, the game had one very special feature.

The characters were excessively good-looking.

Any random background character could take the center stage as the main visual in other games, and the game’s protagonist was so handsome it was hard to look straight at him.

In addition to their good looks, the character designs were also very engaging, whether it was the darkly cute emperor’s son with a conniving interior, or the Demon King with a cold demeanor but a warm heart, loyal to the core.

But what the unlucky person loved the most was the brave hero, who was always hot-headed but cold-hearted on the inside, showing himself only through a mask.

This character was exceptionally hard to conquer, but after seeing his design, the unlucky person knew–he was the one for her; other characters didn’t matter.

She cast aside all other options for the hero, only aiming for him and disregarding all other endings.

And last night, she had finally entered the hero’s storyline, about to peel away his disguise and step into a sickeningly sweet romance!

The thought of embracing the man of her dreams soon had her so excited, her phantom limbs started to hurt!

But today, the game loaded much slower than before.

Just as the unlucky person thought it might be due to a game update, she saw that the game finally entered the main interface, which was a bit different from the usual one.

Looking at the somewhat eerie screen, the unlucky player inspected it carefully for a long time before realizing that there didn’t seem to be any issues.

Although something felt off, she didn’t think too much about it, considering she should have been reading academic papers at the time–getting caught by her boss would have meant a scolding.

So, she immediately chose to save and enter the game and quickly reconnected with the feeling she had when she logged off yesterday, entering the scene where confessions unfold on a snowy night.

This scene was one of the game’s classic moments, voted by many players as the plotline most worth watching.

In the beautifully rendered snowy night scene, the snowflakes fell slowly from the sky, bringing an unparalleled tranquility to the surroundings.

The chime of the New Year’s bell added depth to the scene, grounding it from seeming too ethereal.

The hero, who had always worn a mask, opened up his heart to the protagonist for the first time and after much hesitation, uttered, “The falling snow is so beautiful.”

It seemed as though nothing was said, but in reality, everything was conveyed.

This scene was also one of the hardest to trigger, requiring countless specific attributes and plot conditions to be satisfied, yet it was said to be the most worthwhile, touching the hearts of countless fans of otome games.

With headphones on and tissues at the ready, the unlucky player was prepared for a good cry.

But when she saw the approaching hero, she felt a slight sense of discomfort.

Was the hero always this tall?

The character’s absurdly tall, elongated body gave the unlucky player an eerie feeling.

And what made her feel even more uneasy was when the character spoke.

“Wait… wait… waitwaitwaitwaitwait I I I I I’ve been waiting for a long long long long time, right… right… right… right… right…”

The hero’s speech was ludicrously fast, each word popping out like bullets from a Gatling gun.

As she listened to the voice that seemed to get stuck like a jammed tape, the unlucky player frowned.

Is this a bug?

She reloaded the game and re-entered the snowy night scene.

This time, the appearing hero seemed fine, which relieved the unlucky player.

But when the character turned sideways, she nearly sprayed out her drink.

Too thin!

Ridiculously thin to the point of being two-dimensional!

With the body profile as thin as a sheet of paper, the unlucky player could barely see the character when he was turned to the side.

Although the character’s dialogue was fine, the freakish side profile prevented her from feeling any emotion.

Reload again!

This time the hero was too fat.

The mountainous figure of the hero approached from afar, his corpulent form jiggling with each step like sacks of rice; after he delivered the classic line “The falling snow is so beautiful,” he even took out a handkerchief to wipe the greasy sweat from his neck and armpits.

What kind of crappy bug is this?

Are you playing with me?

To see this performance, I diligently gamed for three days, spending all my free time on strategies online, dealing with every little detail perfectly just for today!

I’ve exhausted my energy for this scene, rising early and working into the night, and now you come here to play me?

Furiously reloading the game, the unlucky player turned maniacal, repeatedly attempting the scene.

But no matter how many times she retried, the true plot never triggered, only resulting in various bizarre versions of the hero emerging.

Finally, the frustrated unlucky player rummaged through her bag, pulled out a nuclear bomb, and roared furiously, “I’ll explode you, damn turtle-grandson!”

Glancing at the commotion, her boss paled, grabbed the unlucky player, and yelled, “What are you doing?”

“Don’t stop me, I’m going to destroy this game! They dare to play me; I’ll obliterate it!”

“Have you abandoned your thesis to play games? Don’t you realize that you’re wasting time?”

“Shut up, you waste! I don’t have time for your idiocy! Let me go!”

The unlucky player slapped her boss across the face, then raised the nuclear bomb and released it mercilessly onto the game.

After the bombardment, a satisfied sinister smile formed on her face, and in front of her trembling boss, she opened the game, only to let out a horrifying scream.

“Why hasn’t it changed back? Isn’t this a bug?”

That day, many players encountered the same issue.

Their favorite game had bugs.

The kind that couldn’t be fixed.