It was Qiu Hengyang's first time getting a zero on his first try.
After the bird died, a game popped up.
The over screen showed his score and his best score, both 0. However, there was a ranking below the score, showing Qiu Hengyang's current rank was "—". Obviously his score was too low to be counted.
Apart from that, Qiu Hengyang noticed that at the top of the screen, there was an empty space that took up a quarter of the screen, with the words "Advertisement" written on it.
Qiu Hengyang nodded, his impression of designer no.7 changed a bit after seeing these three words.
Qiu Hengyang was the founder of hengyou.com, and had always been active in video game development, so he placed a lot of importance on the profitability of games.
Many novice video game designers had a problem, which was that they didn't consider the profitability of a game when they were designing it.
In fact, the designer should have thought about the best way to make a game profitable from the start.
For a casual game like this, would you pay for the download? Or would it have built-in advertisements? Different pricing strategies would have a huge impact on the game itself.
The fact that the designer knew to leave an "advertisement" meant that he had the awareness to do so. He was much better than the other designers who were too stubborn.
He tapped the screen again, and the game started again.
This time, Qiu Hengyang was prepared. He kept tapping on the screen, but the stupid bird's flight path was too difficult to control. Qiu Hengyang was lucky enough to fly past two water pipes, but he fell on the third one.
"My god!"
Qiu Hengyang wasn't satisfied, and wanted to try again.
Five minutes later, Qiu Hengyang had died a few dozen times.
It couldn't be helped, it was too easy to die in this game. Even if you were fully focused, you could die in three or four seconds.
Moreover, he would start again after dying. He didn't even have time to think, and had unknowingly played a lot of rounds.
Qiu Hengyang's best score was twelve, which was a score that he had to put in all his effort to get.
After trying a dozen more times, Qiu Hengyang finally got the result to 14. He felt that his consciousness was a little blurred.
However, Qiu Hengyang noticed that he was now in sixth place on the game's ending screen.
Qiu Hengyang tapped on it, and found that a leaderboard popped up, in descending order of score.
Of course, the names on the leaderboards were all in the form of visitor xxxx. After all, Chen Mo couldn't let every player fill in their username at the start as it would affect the game experience.
However, you could freely change your name on the leaderboard interface.
Qiu Hengyang scrolled down and couldn't help but be shocked. There were actually 543 people on the list!
There were only 700 players in total, and 500 of them had played this game before? This was simply heaven-defying! How could this be?
Qiu Hengyang originally thought that most people wouldn't be interested in this game, but he didn't expect that the number of people who liked this game was much higher than he imagined.
Qiu Hengyang couldn't help but feel a little proud. Ranking sixth out of more than five hundred people, this result was quite something to be proud of!
Qiu Hengyang clicked on his username and changed it to his real name.
He scrolled down and found that the leaderboard was still changing. It seemed to refresh every five to ten seconds, and it was refreshed quite frequently.
As a result, Qiu Hengyang had a feeling that this game was very lively as he watched the names on the leaderboard move up and down.
As he scrolled up, Qiu Hengyang was shocked because the first place on the leaderboard had 47 points!
What the heck!
Qiu Hengyang wanted to die. How did they do it? How did they get 47 points for such a crazy game? Did they hack?
The first few people didn't change their names, probably because they didn't know about this feature.
Qiu Hengyang obviously wasn't convinced. Moreover, he was only in sixth place with 13 points, and could be overtaken at any time.
"I'll play for another five minutes, then try out other games."
Qiu Hengyang closed the leaderboard and started playing again.
…
Soon, the ten minutes were up and the effect of the Super Focuser ended.
"What a weird game … I can't believe I played it for so long."
A bespectacled middle-aged man exited Flappybird. A notification popped up, "Would you like to recommend this game to others?"
The middle-aged man hesitated for a bit before clicking 'recommend'.
It was hard to say why, but it was probably because he didn't want to be the only one suffering.
Up until now, Flappybird had 589 players on the leaderboard, and it was still going up.
This was because people had herd mentality. Some of the audience members knew each other in private, and they were competing to see who had the highest score. Moreover, the audience could see other people's screens. After seeing so many people playing the game, some of the audience members who weren't affected by the Super Focuser were also attracted.
After the Super Focuser lost its effect, more than half of the players exited the game. However, only a small portion of them chose 'Don't recommend', while the rest chose 'Recommend'.
As for the rest of the players … they were, of course, still farming points like crazy.
Lin Hai noticed that Shi Huazhe didn't look too well, so he asked with concern, "What's wrong, are you not feeling well?"
Shi Huazhe shook his head, "Oh, I'm fine."
Lin Hai noticed that Shi Huazhe's eyes were flickering, and he couldn't help but feel curious.
He glanced at Shi Huazhe's screen and saw that it was Flappybird's result panel. "Current result: 4. Best result: 4."
Lin Hai quickly turned his head away and almost laughed out loud. So that's what Shi Huazhe was angry about. Indeed, after playing for ten minutes, the best result was only four points. It wasn't even in the top two hundred on the leaderboard. Anyone would be pissed off.
Lin Hai was smart enough not to ask any more questions.
The trial session continued. The entire session was supposed to last for an hour, but only ten minutes had passed.
Of the seven hundred people in the audience, close to six hundred had played Flappybird. However, only a small portion of them were still playing, as the rest went on to other games.
Chen Mo wasn't worried, as he had a general idea of the quality of the other games when the host was introducing them. They were all pretty bad.
Apart from one or two that were of decent quality, Chen Mo wasn't interested in the other games at all. Compared to Flappybird?
Hmm, let's put it this way. The graphics, resources, and content of these games were all better than Flappybird. However, were they really going to compare the length of the game and the speed at which it spread?
I'm not targeting anyone, I'm just saying that everyone here is trash.
Sure enough, most of the audience quickly closed the game after trying out the other games and started Flappybird again.
It wasn't that the game was fun, it was mainly for the sake of farming points!
Why else would people say that the game was toxic? After playing for a while, it was indeed boring and torturous, but after closing it for five minutes, you'd want to open it again.
Chen Mo felt better after seeing the audience's reaction. The only thing he was worried about was the opinions of the three judges.
If the three judges had the same opinion, would they reject him? That would still be hopeless!
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