Douyin—currently the hottest short-video app in Longguo—boasted a staggering two billion daily visits.
It was also the only case in recent years where a platform managed to break through Penguin's traffic monopoly and carve out its own place in the internet market.
Douyin's main method of promotion was targeted ads—also called "familiar-kill." It tracked your preferences and served you videos aligned with them.
That day, a fresh and eye-catching game commercial began appearing across the younger crowd's feeds.
Zhang Ming, a casual gamer and anime enjoyer (though not a hardcore "true" otaku), was among them.
After work, his routine was simple: play games, watch anime, scroll Douyin.
Today was no different. After clocking out, he booted up his PC and launched the only online game he still played—one owned by Penguin.
But… the game's operations had been growing increasingly predatory, leaving players grumbling in frustration.
"Sigh… let's see what they've added in this update."
While it patched, he opened the announcement board.
Minutes later, he closed it with a deep frown and opened the guild chat.
The first thing he saw was a wall of complaints:
"What the hell is this? The new event just gives useless junk materials. The rest? All overpriced bundles!"
"Two-Year Anniversary 'Thank You' Pack? More like 'Betrayal' Pack!"
"Fifty yuan for a pile of garbage mats, and the only decent box inside has a random drop chance for something good."
"Hah! Thought Penguin had improved, but nope—still the same money-grubbing nonsense."
"And they have the nerve to call it a 'thank-you' gift? What a joke."
"LOL, saw a Douyin video—some streamer spent 5,000 yuan on 100 of those packs and got one +10 enhancement ticket. Lost 4,990."
"Hey, at least those mats will save him ten days of farming. Isn't that hilarious?"
"Bro, hiring a pro to grind for me wouldn't even cost 5k!"
"This game just keeps disappointing…"
"Penguin will always be Penguin. They even brainwash players with 'Support domestic games!' How are we supposed to support this?"
"Forget it. I'm going to STM to find something else to play. At least I won't be treated like a cash cow."
Zhang Ming silently agreed.
Penguin, bloated on its own traffic, not only enforced monopolies but shamelessly plagiarized.
Even if a small indie studio launched a good game, within a month it would be acquired by Penguin—after which the game's charm inevitably died.
If the studio refused, Penguin would clone the game in record time and crush it under sheer traffic dominance.
Domestic players were helpless—cursing Penguin while still playing its games.
And Penguin? They didn't care.
"Call me names all you want—I'll just keep counting my money."
Shaking his head, Zhang Ming was about to close chat when a new link popped up.
"Check this out! Douyin's been pushing this game all week—I've seen it several times. The visuals are amazing!"
Curious, he clicked.
The video player opened with small, fading text in the center: [miHoYo].
"miHoYo Studio?" Zhang Ming frowned. "Never heard of them."
Before he could think further, a pleasant female voice flowed through his headphones:
[Helios, this is the Hyperion. Report mission status.]
Immediately, Zhang Ming pictured a tall, sultry, mature beauty.
Another female voice followed, accompanied by on-screen text:
"Third Honkai Eruption — 2 years, 5 months, 16 days, 2 hours, 34 minutes, and 22 seconds ago."
[Reporting, Major. The Wind Hole detection target is not visible. Threat level raised to A-class. Requesting confirmation.]
A rising orchestral score, tinged with faint comm static, filled the air—instantly creating a tense, battle-ready atmosphere that gripped Zhang Ming's full attention.
[Disable hatch safety locks. Manually open hatch…]
[…Observation unit confirmed. Awaiting Valkyrie landing.]
At last, the visuals fully unfolded.
A hatch slowly opened.
The click of heels echoed against the deck.
The camera panned upward—long legs, slim waist, and a proud silhouette—while high-altitude winds lifted two white braided pigtails, revealing the girl's delicate, beautiful face.
"Whoa… cute girl, and damn that's gorgeous animation."
Before he finished speaking, the girl leapt from high above.
Scene change—twilight skies.
The girl descended like a shooting star.
In the distance, a massive battleship loomed, exuding sheer dominance…
The combination—twilight, girl, battleship—paired with the stirring score made Zhang Ming's skin prickle.
Goosebumps raced up his arms.
"Holy crap… is this a new anime?"
Only twenty seconds in, and the video had him hooked.
It didn't give much away—just three keywords: [Battleship], [Valkyrie], [Operation]—
yet each struck perfectly at his tastes.
"Is this a show about gun-wielding battle girls?"
Even as the thought formed, the scene shifted again.
The white-haired girl now stood atop a small drone.
Through a quick exchange of lines, Zhang Ming learned the mature voice belonged to Himeko Murata, while the adorable, twin-gun-wielding white-haired girl was named Kiana.
Small text in the corner confirmed it wasn't an anime—it was a game.
[Actual in-game footage]
"This is a game?!! And in 3D?!!"
It wasn't the 3D part that floored him, but the way it looked—
flawlessly merging anime aesthetics with a fully three-dimensional world.
Most 3D games aimed for realism—fine for some, but they never clicked with his anime-leaning tastes.
But Honkai Impact 3rd's cel-shaded style hit exactly his sweet spot.
To read 30+ future chapters, head over to Patreon:
patreon.com/WhiteDevil7554