"Your proposal for 'Project: Iron Guard' is unacceptable."
Arthur's voice carried not a shred of warmth, as if he were reading an obituary for a stranger.
Inside the office, the frigid blast from the central air conditioning chilled Julian's fingertips. The hundred-page game design document in his hands—the product of six months of blood, sweat, and tears—now felt as heavy as a lead weight.
He had once believed this would be a groundbreaking masterpiece, a game that could reverse the decline of the domestic mecha genre. Now, it seemed it was just a stack of scrap paper destined for the shredder.
A grave for a dream.
"Why?"
Julian's voice was hoarse. He had braced himself for a dozen different rejections, but he still couldn't stay calm in the face of this reality.
Arthur looked up from behind his expensive rosewood desk, his soft, round face twisted into a look of pure contempt.
"Why? Julian, you've been with this company for three years, and you're still this naive?"
"Mecha? That's dinosaur stuff. It's a relic of a bygone era, not the cash cow of this one."
He snatched a data report from his desk, waving it like a royal decree.
"Do you know what the market wants right now? Cultivation epics, gacha card games, heavy social features—fast-paced loops that get whales to drop ten thousand dollars in a minute!"
"Look at 'Sword of Immortality' made by Fatty Miller in the next department. Outsourced art, copied gameplay, and twelve million dollars in monthly revenue! That is what a good game looks like!"
Arthur's spit nearly sprayed Julian's face.
"And your 'Iron Guard'? Long development cycles, high technical hurdles, and no guaranteed market. Why should I gamble the company's capital on your ridiculous sentimentality?"
Each word felt like a surgeon's blade, methodically dismantling the statue of "passion" in Julian's heart until only fragments remained.
He finally understood.
In this assembly-line factory called "Xunyou Network," games weren't art or dreams; they were cold financial products. Creativity and talent were worthless when weighed against "cash flow."
If he stayed here, his soul would only be worn down, copied, and ultimately distorted beyond recognition, just like the reskinned games they produced.
Enough.
I'm done.
Just as he turned to pack his things and leave this suffocating place, a ghostly blue light screen—visible only to him—abruptly unfolded before his eyes.
[Host detected to be extremely disillusioned with the current gaming environment. Purity of gaming soul meets requirements...]
[Game Vault System activating...]
[Activation successful!]
Julian's footsteps froze. His pupils contracted in shock.
What... is this? An illusion?
[This system encompasses all classic games from Earth's civilization, from the 8-bit era to the next generation, forming a vast and overwhelming 'Vault.']
[This system does not provide superpowers or money. Instead, it produces virtual assets such as 'game design documents,' 'core source code,' 'concept art collections,' and 'player emotional data analysis reports.']
[Player shock, praise, and purchasing behavior will be converted into 'Reputation Points,' which can be used to unlock higher-tier games or exchange for key technologies.]
In an instant, Julian's brain felt as if it had been struck by a cosmic bolt of lightning.
Earth!
That was right—he wasn't originally from this world. He was a transmigrator, a veteran game designer from Earth, where the gaming industry was incredibly advanced.
The tech tree of this parallel world was skewed. While the hardware was there, game design concepts were barren, tightly controlled by a few giants who prioritized "pay-to-win" models.
And now, he possessed the entire gaming history of Earth!
The epic scale of World of Warcraft, the intricate narrative of Dark Souls, the immersive world-building of Red Dead Redemption, the sheer freedom of The Legend of Zelda... These industry-shaking weapons were now all in his mind.
He possessed the power to overturn an entire civilization's entertainment industry.
Julian smiled.
"If you've finally come to your senses," Arthur barked, "go and deconstruct the numerical model for Miller's 'Sword of Immortality.' We're using it for our next project."
Julian's laughter stopped abruptly.
He walked back to his workstation under the sympathetic or mocking gazes of his colleagues and turned on his computer. But he didn't touch the disgusting cultivation project.
He created a new document and typed two words in large, bold letters:
Resignation Letter.
Arthur's face darkened instantly. He strode over, saw the screen, and let out a sharp, angry laugh.
"Resigning?"
"Julian, do you realize where you are? Without the Xunyou platform, you're nothing!"
"You still want to make that garbage mecha game? What are you going to build it with? Thin air?"
Julian didn't turn around. He spoke softly, his voice ringing with a newfound, unshakable confidence.
"Director, don't speak too soon."
"The platform is important, sure. But sometimes... the product is the platform."
With that, he clicked print, signed his name, and slapped the warm sheet of paper down in front of Arthur with a satisfying smack.
Simultaneously, his consciousness dove into his mind.
[Starter Gift Pack distributed: 10,000 Reputation Points.]
[C-Rank Game Vault unlocked (Partial). Available for indie/mid-sized titles.]
A massive list of games scrolled through his vision.
Hollow Knight, This War of Mine, To the Moon, Inside... every name was a legend that had once taken Earth by storm.
But he needed something specific. Something that could be monetized quickly, ignite the market instantly, and showcase his "dimensional" advantage over these local developers.
His gaze settled on one title.
Outlast.
A horror game with zero combat, relying entirely on atmosphere and psychological pressure to send a player's adrenaline through the roof.
In this world filled with "tank-healer-DPS" loops and "one-hit-kill" power fantasies, such a raw survival horror experience would be nothing short of a nuclear bomb.
[Exchange for 'Outlast' core gameplay framework, concept art collection, and sound design outline.]
[Reputation Points consumed: 9,000.]
[Exchange successful!]
A flood of data, imagery, and design logic surged into Julian's mind.
Arthur's face was now beet-red. Being publicly defied by an underling made him lose all composure.
"Fine! Great! Julian, I'll remember this!"
He pointed a shaking finger at Julian's nose, his voice shrill.
"I want to see how you make your 'platform' without us! I'll have HR send the strictest non-compete agreement to your email today. You'll never find another job in this industry!"
It was a blatant threat—a blacklist. In the past, Julian might have felt a crushing sense of despair. Now, he just found it pathetic.
He packed his personal belongings into a cardboard box and walked toward the office door. He stopped and looked back over his shoulder with a playful smirk.
"Don't worry about the blacklist, Director."
"I won't be looking for another job."
Julian paused, ensuring every person in the office heard his next words.
"I'm starting my own company."
"We'll meet at next year's 'Genesis Awards.' I just hope that by then, your twelve-million-dollar 'Sword of Immortality' can win something... like the 'Most Efficient Cash Grab' award."
It wasn't a compliment; it was pure, concentrated sarcasm.
"You—!"
Arthur trembled with rage, unable to form a coherent sentence.
Julian ignored him and strode out of the cubicle cage that had oppressed him for three years. Sunlight bathed his face; he had never felt so free.
Inside the office, the air was thick with stunned silence.
A junior designer whose project was just killed had just resigned in a blaze of glory, challenged the VP, and declared he would win the industry's highest honor?
Was he insane?
Back in his office, Arthur slammed his desk. He roared at his Lead Designer:
"Keep tabs on him! If he tries to publish a game or secure a distribution channel, I want it sabotaged!"
"I'll make sure he learns the cost of crossing me!"
Then, a flash of greed crossed Arthur's eyes.
"Also... that 'Iron Guard' proposal had a few decent ideas. Find someone to tweak it. Replace the mechas with flying swords, change the setting to high-fantasy, and turn it into our next mobile RPG. We launch next quarter!"
He didn't just want to blacklist Julian; he wanted to steal his hard work and use it to crush him in the market.
Night fell.
Julian returned to his cramped apartment. Only now did the mix of excitement and nerves truly settle. He sat at his computer and summoned the blue system panel.
[Game Vault System]
Host: Julian
Company: Unregistered
Reputation Points: 1,000
Current Unlock Level: C-Rank
Acquired: Outlast (Core Assets)
Looking at the panel, Julian's heart raced. He closed his eyes, already visualizing the eerie, rain-soaked corridors of Mount Massive Asylum. He could feel the helplessness of the protagonist, Miles, surviving in the dark with nothing but a camcorder.
The design that stripped away all combat power—the terrifying tension of "seeing the monster but being unable to fight"—the night vision mechanic... these were revolutionary concepts for this world.
He was confident that if he could just build a playable demo of Outlast, it would be a depth charge in the stagnant lake of the local gaming scene.
His short-term goal was clear: Finish the Outlast demo as fast as possible and upload it to the largest domestic indie platform, "Spark."
Once it became a hit, he would earn his first pot of gold and, more importantly, a mountain of Reputation Points.
With those points, he could unlock even greater legends, build his own studio, and piece by piece, construct his gaming empire.
DROP SOME POWERSTONE !!!!!
CHANGES ARE DONE