Everyone called Old Luo “Boss,” though he looked more like an internet café owner. His scruffy jacket hadn’t been washed in two weeks, his hair was full of dandruff, and it stuck up like a bird’s nest, but he was the type who, once he touched a keyboard, would become an emperor. Every time he walked into an internet café, tossed down twenty yuan, and said in a low voice, “Overnight, a bottle of nutrition express, and a pack of Zhongnanhai,” the other players would lift their heads to look at this illustrious predecessor. Because for the rest of the night, they would watch him, with a mysterious smile, curled up in his seat, left hand playing the keyboard like Beethoven, and right hand waving the mouse as if writing mad cursive.
“No problem! What’s his race and class?” Old Luo’s expression was resolute.
“Human, male, black hair, a face that screams loser, make sure he’s not too handsome,” Mai handed over a black-and-white photo, “Just base it on this picture. His class… make him a rogue, he’s always been a petty thief.”
“Not much personality for a hero, is there?” Old Luo clicked his tongue.
Mai clapped her hands. Her black-clad driver came in from outside, holding a paper cutter. Before anyone could react, Mai, with a skewer of grilled meat in her mouth, stood up, grabbed a stack of cash, and sliced it cleanly in half.
After a brief silence, one of the drunk guys clapped his hands, “Well done, sister!”
Amid the cheers and whistles, Mai’s long hair swayed as she chopped again and again with the paper guillotine, each movement carrying a sense of elegance, the sliced halves of banknotes falling into the travel bag that her driver had put down.
“Fifty thousand as an advance.” Mai zipped up the travel bag and pushed it in front of Old Luo. “All the halves you have are right halves, and taking them to the bank won’t get you full cash. If you want the left halves, bring the character to me. Work hard, darling, you’re cute… but remember to wash your hair properly next time you see me! I can feel a fermented smell wafting my way from over there!”
She gave everyone a playful wink and pulled five thousand yuan from her wallet, placing it on the table. “The drinks tonight are on me. Seven days from now, go online and watch a man named ‘Lu Mingfei’ slay a dragon.”
Amid the cheers, she twisted her slender waist gracefully and walked to the long Hummer parked outside. Before getting into the car and leaving, she turned around and waved, just like a star waving goodbye to the media at her own awards gala. But no one thought it was inappropriate for this to happen in front of a Chengdu snacks diner. Everyone had a feeling that something big was about to happen, something they couldn’t wait for. They raised their bottles to send off this seemingly incredible girl.
“In the next seven days,” Old Luo dialed the vice president’s number, “we’ll make ‘Lu Mingfei’ the number one, dazzling star on the leaderboards! Yes… he’s going to kill that dragon!”
“Hey, long-legged girl, is this really going to work?” Chips leaned on the window, staring outside.
It was dawn, red clouds burning along the horizon, and the sun, like a poached yolk, slowly rose as traffic on the ring road below grew heavier. A new day began. In this top-floor meeting room located in the heart of the CBD, she and Mai had not slept for twenty-four hours. All business was on hold; the brokers in New York hadn’t received a call from Chips for an entire day and were guessing whether their client had been kidnapped and whether they should call the police.
“It should be fine as long as all the steps connect without any mistakes. Blizzard has already canceled all employee leave plans, and they’ll be working around the clock in two shifts for the next seven days. The news about the new instance going online will be released in a few hours via Blizzard’s official website, and the scheduled time is now set at six days and four hours from now. This will be Blizzard’s first instance that doesn’t get delayed. That guy named Old Luo is doing well too—‘Lu Mingfei Ricardo’ is now level 57, with two teams leveling up for him and two more providing support. By noon today, the character will be max level, and in the following days, he’ll roam the map for skill points, prestige points, and top-tier gear. When the new instance goes online, a top-ranking hero will be standing at the entrance.”
In front of Mai, and to her left and right, were three 36-inch HD screens, almost creating a 180-degree view. What spread across them was an endless swamp, where crocodiles could be faintly seen lurking. A little rogue was running across the muddy terrain on horseback, labeled “Lu Mingfei Ricardo.” In truth, he wasn’t alone; if the camera zoomed out, one could see the full view—a massive cavalry following him, with max-level tanks and powerful healers accompanying him, and in the chat channel, messages were refreshing at high speed: “Hurry, tell Lao Bai to craft a dagger for Brother Lu!” “Who’s at Stormwind to pick up Brother Lu? Fly over, the main force is almost here.” “We need 120 pieces of cloth, quickly get them for Brother Lu!” “Hey boss, they asked for a max-level character. Should we max Brother Lu’s cooking as well?”
“It’s so lively; it’s making me want to create an account too,” Mai said, spinning a wireless mouse.
“How’s the media side going?” Chips asked.
“Last night, I held a press conference at the Kempinski Hotel, inviting every industry media outlet. I handed out five hundred red envelopes, each with two hundred dollars. The moment the ‘first kill’ is achieved, the journalists who took our red envelopes will post it across all game industry forums.”
“We’re just short of shooting a movie now…” Chips raised her eyebrows. “Mobilizing so many resources just to make one guy happy? Mai, do you think the boss genuinely cares about Lu Mingfei’s feelings?”
Mai thought about it, then shook her head, “I don’t think he cares about anyone’s feelings.”
“That’s what I think too. You’ve spent some time with Lu Mingfei; what kind of person is he, really?”
“It’s hard to say. On the surface, he seems timid, lacking any confidence, without expectations for himself, so he doesn’t make any effort.” Mai propped her feet on the conference table, holding a cup of hot chocolate, staring blankly at the ceiling. “But occasionally, he becomes a different person… lonely and fierce, with eyes filled with dissatisfaction, as if… he’s caught fire.”
“All great wildfires start from a spark inside, don’t they?” Chips said softly.
Mai took a sip of hot chocolate, “He’s actually quite lucky. A lot of people are helping him. But it’s a weird feeling… it’s not happiness. None of the help brings him happiness; it just keeps him balanced on the edge of loneliness. It’s like he’s a child of this world, and no one dares to let him fall into true despair. Every time he’s about to fall into a deep abyss of sadness, someone gives him a little comfort, like a handout, so he can hold on. I have a strange feeling… the day he truly despairs, he will become…” Mai said softly, “something like a demon!”
Fluorescent lights glowed amid choking smoke. Occasionally, someone cheered or cursed, and others, wearing headphones, murmured sweet nothings to their little sister on the other side. Dozens of computers were lined up, with each worn-out couch occupied by “overnight” brothers, cigarette in left hand, mouse in the right, eyes red. Strong rock music leaked out of the cheap headphones. The cashier girl continued her nap. All the noise and tumult of the world gathered here. This was an underground internet cafe in Chaoyang District.