Being a professional gamer sounded like a desirable job. They could use the game as a career to support themselves and even gain both fame and fortune. Who wouldn't think about it?
In 2055, this had indeed become a socially recognized profession. The top talents in the industry had the same influence as famous athletes.
The age range of professional gamers was between 14 and 35 years old. Of course, there were younger experts, but some games had age classifications that prevented them from joining.
Generally speaking, professional gamers could be simply divided into two categories. One was the star level players, and the other was the ordinary blue-collar level players.
Star level players generally chose to retire around the age of 30. They either became amateurs or retired to the second line. Basically, they were preparing to enter the management of the studio. There were also those who switched to other related positions in the game industry, such as commentators, referees, organizers, and so on. There were even those who made a lot of money and became their own boss.
Everyone who entered this industry wanted to become such star level players. However, many people entered this industry after graduating from junior high school and didn't make a name for themselves until they were 30 years old. In the end, they still had to find a way out in society. These people could be said to have gambled their youth. As for whether they won or lost, only they knew in their hearts. These non-star players were the blue-collar level in this industry. They were the backbone of the industry. Without their support, the studio couldn't operate at all. Those star level players also needed their solid backing.
The most helpless thing in this industry was the cruelty of the competition.
Any game that could be popular for a period of time would inevitably have "competition." If a game didn't have any way to distinguish between two or two groups of players, then the game wouldn't attract any studio at all. The number of players that could be attracted would be extremely limited.
In terms of multiplayer online games, it didn't matter whether it was a competitive game or not. Even if it was killing monsters, leveling up, and wearing equipment, there was also PK to determine the winner.
The simplest and most obvious way for professional gamers to prove their value was to win.
Unfortunately, there was only a momentary brilliance in this world. There was no general who would always win. No one could win all the time.
The increase in age, the ups and downs of the competitive state, the decline of a certain game, and other factors … caused countless players who were once worshipped as "gods" to gradually fade from people's sight. Those who could retreat at their peak could be counted on one's fingers.
The more elite a gaming studio was, the crueler the competition was. What they needed was always young and fresh blood … They needed a group of rookies who maintained an extremely high competitive state and had a competitive and enterprising spirit … The kind of people who could pull down a certain high and mighty God-level player at any time.
Simply put, an ambitious genius. For example … Phantom Dawn.
This time, Regulation had invested four groups of people into Thriller Paradise. Each group had ten people, and each group had one to two celebrity players. The rest were basically experienced blue-collared players.
Phantom Dawn was the only newbie who was below the age of twenty among the four groups.
Regulation had high hopes for him, and that was why he was included in the first batch of players to enter Thriller Paradise. The team leader didn't give him any tasks. He just had to play according to his interest. Who would have thought that in a killing game mode, he would accidentally encounter a group of three led by Fearless Brave. This kid didn't know what was good for him and killed all of his seniors … It could be said that he deserved to be given a "holiday" by the team leader for his willful and reckless actions.
Of course, Fearless Brave wasn't considered to be the "strongest" of them all. Among the many celebrity players at Regulation, be it in terms of past gaming results or popularity, he was not in the top ten. Even though his group had successfully taken the title of the first player to reach level twenty in the closed beta, Regulation's real power was far greater than that.
Currently, these four groups could only be called 'pioneering teams', the strongest group of players at the studio. They had only registered their accounts and locked onto their IDs, but they hadn't come online again. In other words … Regulation's real experts had not been officially assigned to this project yet. The upper management had already made the decision to wait and see. At least, they would wait until the Dream Company opened up the currency exchange and payment service before they decided whether to send in their best talents.
Now that I've said so much, you might be confused. How did I get there? What about Feng Bujue? What about the scenario at Nuka City?
Let me use these three paragraphs to get back to the topic.
Speaking of studios, this time, Feng Bujue's scenario had members from a studio as well.
However, he did not belong to a big sect like Regulation. He was a third-rate studio owner, manager, and player like I mentioned earlier.
He was Atobe-sama.
Alright, I believe you have guessed it already. Indeed, his studio was called Hyotei.
Atobe-sama was twenty-three in real life, and he had just graduated from university last year. His father owned a factory, so his family had quite a bit of savings, so he could build one. After all, the cost of opening a gaming studio was not that high. He only needed to rent a place and buy a few gaming hubs. The investment in manpower was negligible, and the employees were all his friends from his school days.
Furthermore, Atobe-sama only had three employees under him. One of them was Hard to Choose a Name, who was currently in the same scenario as him, and the other two had nicknames Hard to Choose a Name and Hard to Choose a Name. Even though Atobe-sama had seriously requested for his three friends to use nicknames like Biraci and Shinobi, he was mercilessly rejected. When he threatened them with his salary, he was rejected by Aruba.
Their studio knew that they had to work two shifts, so they were split into two groups. Currently, the other two were in between games, so they had gone out for supper.
Atobe-sama's in-game appearance was a fair-skinned man with a pretty face. He was thin, and he did not look that different from his real appearance. However, the changes to his face were more obvious.
Hard to Choose a Name had a medium build, and he was slightly shorter than Atobe-sama. His in-game appearance was similar to his name, giving off an unkempt feeling. He not only did not make himself look handsome, he even had a bald head, saying that he wanted to experience the feeling of being bald in the game.
Atobe-sama's title seemed to be a form of sarcasm from the system. He was called One Blade Master. His weapon of choice was a katana, and it looked like the weapon used by small fries in wuxia dramas. It was of normal quality and had no special effects or stats, but at least it was a proper weapon.
Different from Atobe-sama's random title, Real Hard to Come Up with a Name was much more recognizable. It had four words — Outwardly Strong but Inwardly Weak. His bald head formed a great contrast to his Terror Points. The man did not even have a proper weapon. His backpack was filled with two baseball bats and a rusted iron pipe. It was unclear where he had picked them up from …
They were quite lucky. The two had landed one street away from each other, so they would meet up soon.
The two looked unreliable, but they had their own strengths. If they knew nothing about gaming, why would they start a studio? Therefore, Atobe-sama made the correct decision. He ignored the quest and found a gun shop to arm himself.
Looking at the city, it was clear that the scenario was set on the land of the Evil American Empire. Therefore, there was an eighty percent chance that there would be a gun shop in the city. Even if they did not have any heavy weapons, they had standard pistols, shotguns, rifles, and so on. They had plenty of ammo, so they were all valuable.
The two moved down the street, and they ran into BW Zombies that wandered in groups of twos and threes. However, they posed little threat. If they were too lazy to fight them, they would circle around them. If they could not avoid them, they would give them a headshot. Even though these monsters would move faster when they were close to their biting range, as long as they were careful and did not get surrounded by three or more monsters at the same time, they would be easy to kill.
After walking two streets, Atobe-sama entered a phone booth. He picked up the phone, but the line was different. In fact, even if it was connected, he did not know who to call. Was he supposed to call 911? The main reason he was there was to look through the phone book. After searching for three to five minutes, Atobe-sama successfully found the address of the nearest gun shop. He and Hard to Choose a Name (I decided to call him by his nickname) picked up their pace to head there.
After another ten minutes of walking, they were close to their destination, but they noticed something strange.
There were about thirty BW Zombie carcasses lying on the street. Each of the carcasses had their heads smashed open, and the carcasses stretched all the way to the door of the gun shop.
In the middle of the street in front of the shop, in broad daylight, there was a large ice bucket with the Gatorade logo. The bucket was filled with red liquid, and there were many empty plastic blood bags littered the ground beside it. The thick stench of blood was so thick that even a human nose could smell it from afar.
Two speakers were placed next to the 'blood bucket', and they were playing 'Matador March' loudly. Based on the drag marks on the ground, they appeared to have been dragged out from a music shop across the street. An electrical box by the road had been taken apart. It was hard to see what was inside, but in any case, the speaker's power cord extended all the way there …
"What's going on?" Ming Zi asked.
Atobe-sama had no idea what was going on, but before he could answer, a BW Zombie flew out from a corner behind the blood bucket.
Then, a man covered in blood walked out from there. He had a sharp knife in one hand and a wrench in the other. On each of his shoulders was a string of garlic. The two strings of 'garlic' formed an X before him, and they were both dyed red.
Following the rhythm of the matador, he danced a dance that was similar to the dance of the Axe Gang in Kung Fu Hustle. His lips were chewing on an unknown white object like chewing gum … He walked briskly toward the BW Zombie. Then, he chopped madly at the head of the monster that had not gotten up from the ground, shattering its bones and sending blood splattering everywhere.
After killing the monster, he seemed to realize something. He suddenly straightened up and turned around. He saw Atobe-sama and Ming Zi standing there dumbfounded.
The two of them met Feng Bujue's gaze for two seconds before shouting at the same time and turning to run, "Run!" "Run!"
Feng Bujue did not waste time and gave chase. He actually wanted to yell, "Why are you running? I'm a player! "But since his mouth was full of garlic, he could not raise his voice.
On the other hand, when Ming Zi saw the monster chasing after them, his Terror Points skyrocketed. As he ran, he told Atobe-sama, "It's over, it's over, it's over … If this guy catches up to us, we're dead meat. This is all your fault! Why did you go to the gun shop for no reason? There really is a mini boss planted at the entrance of the gun shop! "
Atobe-sama kept turning back to look at the approaching Feng Bujue. "What does that have to do with me? How would I know about this! "He turned back to look." By the way … this guy seems to be running faster than us! "
"I noticed that already! He's impossibly fast! "Ming Zi grumbled.
Feng Bujue, who was about twenty meters away from them, heard their conversation. He thought, Of course, I have Jazz Shoes, and you two want to compete with me in running?
Unexpectedly, at this moment, the two people in front suddenly said in unison, "Let's split up!"
At the next junction, they split up and ran in different directions.
Feng Bujue gasped internally. These two are quite good at strategy!
He did not think too much about it. He turned left and chased after one of them.
That was Atobe-sama …
"This is bad … I didn't make him hesitate at all!" Atobe-sama mumbled to himself. "Instead of chasing after an obvious target like that baldy, he came straight for me. It must be my handsomeness that got me killed."
Seeing Feng Bujue getting closer and closer, Atobe-sama's Terror Points rose. He knew that he was about to be caught. Instead of being killed by this mini boss from behind, he might as well turn back and take the risk.
With that in mind, he suddenly stopped moving. He raised his podao before him and swung it at Feng Bujue, who was charging at him at high speed.
"Hmm?" When Feng Bujue reached him, Atobe-sama realized that the podao in his hand was unable to move. His movement had been stopped by the system.
Feng Bujue stopped before him and gasped for air. Glaring at him, he stuttered, "I … Ha … I … I am … Ha … Ha … Ha … We're on the same side! You're a [Beep —]! "
The word 'idiot' was censored by the system. Theoretically speaking, Feng Bujue should not have been able to turn his intention into reality, but since there was a censor, it meant that he did not mean it to be insulting; it was just a sarcastic tone.
"Huh?" Atobe-sama collapsed to the ground. His face was blanched, and his lips twitched. "Ha … ha ha … I … I'm sorry." He apologized.
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