May in New York was beautiful—trees in full bloom, flowers lining the streets and medians in explosions of color, the city bursting with life.
Today Alex had been invited to appear on "Game Story," a livestreamed talk show focusing on the gaming industry.
Since Fast & Furious went viral, Alex had received dozens of interview requests. He'd declined most—too busy, genuinely didn't enjoy the media circus, preferred to let his work speak for itself.
But this show was different. "Game Story" was a brand-new program jointly produced by StreamCast and GameInsider, one of the biggest gaming news portals in the US. They'd even secured a dedicated channel on Infinite Realms for simultaneous in-game broadcasting.
More importantly, they'd planned several episodes around the recent racing championship. They'd even invited Jake Harrison as a guest commentator.
Unfortunately, because the championship had bombed so hard, Jake's episodes tanked too. Viewership was abysmal. Advertisers were furious, threatening to pull funding.
To save Jake's reputation and boost his own platform's new show, Alex had reluctantly agreed to appear.
"Today we're honored to welcome the founder of Stormwind Studios, Alex Morrison. Everyone, please give Alex a warm welcome..."
After the standard opening pleasantries, small talk, and introductions, the host—a charismatic guy named Marcus —got down to business.
"The week-long Infinite Realms Global Racing Championship just concluded, but as everyone knows, it didn't quite live up to expectations. Player participation was low, viewership was disappointing, and the whole event felt... lukewarm."
Marcus leaned forward. "Alex, where do you think the problem is? Is it because racing content outside of Fast & Furious is still mostly mediocre, leading to players not being enthusiastic about racing games in general?"
The question was designed to guide discussion toward analyzing the championship's failure and the upcoming content competition.
Alex didn't hesitate. "Actually, I don't think that's the core issue. In my opinion, the fundamental problem is much simpler: racing competitions just aren't entertaining to watch."
The host's eyes widened. Behind the cameras, the producers practically started crying tears of joy.
This was the controversy they needed. That single statement would make this episode trend on social media for days.
Sure enough, the livestream chat exploded:
"HOLY SHIT Alex just went there"
"Did he just call Infinite Realms esports boring??"
"He's not wrong though. Racing comps are kinda dull"
"Alex really doesn't give a fuck, respect"
"Infinite Realms corporate in shambles rn"
"This man woke up and chose violence"
"Someone tag @InfiniteRealms lmaooo"
"Getting my popcorn this is gonna be GOOD"
"Alex about to teach a billion-dollar company how to make games"
"The AUDACITY I love it"
Alex's statement wasn't for shock value or clout. He was stating what he genuinely believed—an opinion informed by knowledge from his previous life, by understanding industry dynamics that this world hadn't experienced yet.
Racing as a competitive sport had audiences in both worlds, sure. Racing esports had existed on Earth too. But it had always been lukewarm at best, eventually becoming so niche it was practically invisible in most regions.
In this world, racing esports had experienced a brief golden age thanks to Infinite Realms' massive platform and the early VR boom when non-combat content was scarce. Racing dungeons and competitions had been genuinely popular for a while.
But now? Complete decline. And the fundamental reason was exactly what Alex had said: inherent lack of entertainment value.
Compare it to League of Legends or DOTA from his previous life. Those games were spectator phenomenons. Even non-gamers would watch the championship matches. And it wasn't just because the games were popular—it was because the matches themselves were entertaining.
The drama, the narrative arcs within individual games. Massive comebacks from seemingly impossible deficits. Clutch plays and mechanical outplays that made crowds lose their minds. A player escaping certain death with a sliver of health. Vision tricks to steal Baron.
The strategic depth, the mind games, the tactical creativity. Every match was full of tension, emotional highs and lows, unexpected twists. Watching was a genuine experience.
Racing competitions? They already existed in real life with actual cars, actual danger, actual stakes. And real-world racing was more exciting than virtual racing could ever be.
Sure, games could create surreal tracks, impossible physics, death-defying courses. But that didn't significantly enhance the viewing experience because the danger wasn't real. Crashing in a game didn't kill anyone. The skill on display was diminished because everyone knew it was virtual.
The tactical and technical elements weren't intuitive to viewers. The gameplay was relatively monotonous—fastest time wins, that's it. No complex strategy, no dramatic comebacks, no clutch moments that fundamentally changed the match.
Plus, racing esports in this world had been around for years. The format hadn't evolved. Same events, same rules, same basic competition structure. Audiences were thoroughly desensitized.
Real racing enthusiasts watched real motorsports. Gamers who wanted competitive excitement went elsewhere.
Fast & Furious succeeded because of its narrative, its characters, its emotional stakes. Players cared about why they were racing, not just the racing itself. The gameplay wasn't monotonous—there were heists, chases, varied objectives beyond "go fast."
"'Lack of entertainment value'—that's a fascinating take," Marcus said, clearly delighted with the controversy. "Can you elaborate on that for our audience?"
Alex walked through his reasoning, explaining the fundamental differences between racing esports and more successful competitive games. The livestream viewer count kept climbing. Chat was going absolutely wild. The production team was ecstatic.
"That's incredibly insightful analysis," Marcus said once Alex finished. "But here's the question: how do you actually fix this? How do you make racing competitions more entertaining? That seems like an incredibly difficult problem to solve. Do you have any ideas?"
"For specifics, you'll have to wait for the content competition," Alex said with a slight smile. "I'll put the answer in our submission."
He wasn't about to give away trade secrets on a livestream. Gameplay innovation was incredibly difficult to protect—once you revealed your concepts, anyone could copy them.
Marcus's eyes lit up. "Wait, does that mean Stormwind is entering the competition?"
Another bombshell. The host clearly hadn't expected this.
"Absolutely," Alex confirmed.
Chat absolutely lost its mind:
"STORMWIND ENTERING THE COMP???"
"Fast & Furious 2.0 incoming"
"RIP to everyone else competing lmao"
"Alex really said 'fine I'll do it myself'"
"ET Games sweating rn"
"This competition just got INTERESTING"
Another reason Alex had agreed to this interview: free marketing for Stormwind's upcoming racing content.
Actually, Alex had predicted the championship's failure the moment it was announced. He'd understood immediately that the racing content market wasn't the problem—the racing esports format itself was fundamentally flawed.
So he'd started conceptualizing a completely new racing experience months ago. Something that would revolutionize competitive racing in this world, bring genuine entertainment value to the format.
And it was almost ready.
When Stormwind had launched the Avengers project, a lot of people hadn't understood why Alex wasn't doubling down on racing content. Why abandon the market he'd single-handedly revived?
He'd been waiting for an opportunity. And now that opportunity had arrived.
Though Alex's perception of "opportunity" was very different from what ET Games was thinking.
Guys any suggestion why the fic has less collection 84 chapter and it 4.78k collection.