The night before the internal review, Division B didn't sleep.
The only light in the room came from the glow of three monitors and the intermittent spark of Wang Hao's soldering iron. He was modifying the link cables by hand, cursing under his breath as he melted plastic and reconfigured the pinouts to match Zhong Ming's aggressive "streaming" protocol.
"Done," Wang Hao wheezed, dropping the iron. He plugged the modified cable into two development kits. "If this fries the boards, we're dead. We don't have the budget to replace them."
Zhong Ming nodded. "Test it."
Wang Hao initiated the trade sequence. On Screen A, the player offered a Bulbasaur. On Screen B, the player offered a Charmander.
The screens flickered. The music stuttered.
Then, the trade animation played. The monsters swapped. No lag. No freeze.
"It's stable," Wang Hao whispered, tears welling in his eyes. "It's actually stable."
"We're ready," Zhong Ming said, checking his watch. It was 5:00 AM. "Go home, shower, and put on your best clothes. Today, we show them the future."
***
The conference room on the top floor of Guangyi Interactive was a world away from Division B. It was a sterile, white space with a long mahogany table and holographic projectors embedded in the surface. The air was scented with synthetic lavender.
Around the table sat the company's top executives. At the head was CEO Zhao Guowei, a stern man who had made his fortune in post-war construction before buying into the entertainment sector. To his right sat Chen Xu, looking impeccable in a navy-blue suit, his tablet displaying colorful graphs.
To Zhao's left sat Li Cheng, looking like he was about to be executed.
"Next item," the CEO's assistant announced. "Division B. Status report."
Li Cheng stood up, smoothing his tie. "Chairman Zhao, members of the board. As you know, Division B has been reassigned to a new project under Producer Zhong Ming. We are here to present the prototype for... *Pocket Monsters*."
A ripple of murmurs went through the room.
"Pocket Monsters?" one executive scoffed. "Isn't that a toy concept?"
"Proceed," Chairman Zhao said impassively.
Li Cheng gestured to the back of the room. "Producer Zhong?"
Zhong Ming stood up. He was wearing a simple white shirt and black slacks, looking thin and pale compared to the well-fed executives. But his posture was straight, his eyes sharp.
He walked to the front of the room, holding the modified development kits.
"Ladies and gentlemen," Zhong Ming began. "The current gaming market is obsessed with one thing: Simulation. We simulate war. We simulate survival. We simulate reality. But reality is painful. It is gray. It is exhausting."
He placed the two handheld consoles on the table.
"I propose we stop simulating the world we live in, and start simulating the world we *want*."
"Enough with the philosophy," Chen Xu interrupted, leaning back in his chair. "Chairman, we've seen the specs. It's pixel art. It's 8-bit music. It's technology from fifty years ago. It's a step backward for this company. My *Warfront* project is generating revenue hand-over-fist with photorealistic tank battles. Why should we waste server space on... cartoons?"
The executives nodded. Chen Xu's logic was sound. High fidelity equaled high value in this era.
"Because high fidelity isolates," Zhong Ming countered. "Your tanks require a player to sit alone in a dark room, staring at a screen. My game requires a player to go outside."
"Go outside?" Chairman Zhao raised an eyebrow. "The pollution levels in the outer districts—"
"I mean metaphorically," Zhong Ming corrected smoothly. "I mean socially."
He picked up the two consoles and the tangled link cable connecting them.
"This is the feature the industry has forgotten. Direct connection. Not over the internet, but face-to-face."
He handed one console to Li Cheng and kept the other. He turned on the power.
The title screen music played. It was catchy, upbeat, and undeniably charming. It cut through the stuffy atmosphere of the boardroom.
Zhong Ming projected the screen onto the wall behind him.
He walked Li Cheng through the basics. Walking in the grass. Catching a Rattata. The executives watched with polite boredom. It looked simple. Too simple.
"Chen Xu says this is a toy," Zhong Ming said, his voice rising slightly. "He is right. But he underestimates the power of a toy. A toy is something you hold in your hand. Something you own."
"Now," Zhong Ming looked at Li Cheng. "Director Li, please select the trade option."
Li Cheng nervously tapped the screen.
On the giant wall projection, two windows appeared.
*Player 1 wants to trade.*
*Player 2 wants to trade.*
"I have a Charmander," Zhong Ming announced. "Director Li has a Squirtle. We are in different versions of the game. In my world, Squirtle does not exist naturally. In his world, Charmander does not exist. To complete our collection... we must trade."
Zhong Ming plugged the cable in.
"System," Zhong Ming thought, sweating internally. "Please tell me Wang Hao's soldering holds."
He pressed [Trade].
The room watched. Chen Xu smirked, expecting a crash.
Instead, the screens flashed. A lively animation played. The Charmander floated from Zhong Ming's screen to Li Cheng's. The Squirtle floated back.
*Trade Complete!*
Zhong Ming held up his console. "I now have a Squirtle. But more importantly... I have a memory. I stood face-to-face with a friend. We negotiated. We exchanged. We connected."
He looked at the board members.
"In a world where people are terrified of AI and isolated in their bunkers, this cable is a lifeline. It forces human interaction. It creates a community."
He turned to the wall. "And that creates a market."
Zhong Ming pulled up a spreadsheet he had prepared.
"Currently, handhelds sell 1 unit per household. With *Pocket Monsters*, we market two versions. To catch them all, you *need* a friend. We effectively double the hardware demand. Furthermore, the monsters are designed with 'Evolution'. To evolve certain monsters, you must trade them. This is not just a game mechanic. It is a social engine."
He looked directly at Chairman Zhao.
"Sir, we are not selling a game. We are selling a social network for children. We are selling friendship. And friendship... is the one thing the AI could never replicate."
Silence stretched in the room.
Chen Xu stood up, his face red. "This is ridiculous! It's a gimmick! You're asking the company to bet on a feature that requires children to physically meet? In this economy? It's a pipe dream!"
"Is it?" Chairman Zhao spoke for the first time. His voice was low, but it silenced Chen Xu instantly.
The Chairman stood up and walked slowly to the table. He picked up the handheld console Zhong Ming had placed down. He stared at the pixelated screen.
"Chen Xu," Zhao said, still looking at the screen. "Your game makes money because it taxes the players' frustration. It is efficient. It is profitable."
He looked up at Zhong Ming.
"But this... this makes me want to call my grandson."
The Chairman looked at the cable.
"I haven't seen him in weeks. He is always in his room playing your war simulators, Chen Xu. He doesn't talk to me. But if I had one of these... and he had one..."
The Chairman looked at Li Cheng and Zhong Ming.
"The board will vote."
Chen Xu looked around, panicked. "Chairman, the budget—"
"The budget for Division B is approved for a full release," Zhao decided, cutting him off. "Phase 1 production. 10,000 initial cartridge run."
Zhao looked at Zhong Ming, his eyes shrewd.
"Young man. You promised a 'World Architect' role. Today, you proved you understand the architecture of the market. But do not fail me. If this 'Pocket Monster' does not sell out its first run, Division B is dissolved. Permanently."
Zhong Ming bowed his head slightly. "It will sell out, Chairman. I guarantee it."
**[Task Complete: Survive the Board Review.]**
**[Reward: Marketing Insight Module (Activated).]**
**[New Task: Launch Event. Reach 50,000 Sales in Week 1.]**
As the executives filed out, Chen Xu brushed past Zhong Ming.
"You got lucky with nostalgia," Chen Xu hissed. "But nostalgia fades. When this crashes, I'll be there to pick up the pieces."
"I look forward to it," Zhong Ming replied evenly.
When the room was empty, Zhong Ming leaned against the table, exhaling a long breath.
Wang Hao and Lin Yue, who had been watching from the hallway, burst in.
"We did it!" Wang Hao shouted. "We got the budget!"
"We got the hard part," Zhong Ming corrected, though he was smiling. "Now we have to make sure 10,000 kids want to be the very best, like no one ever was."
He looked at his team.
"Marketing starts tomorrow. Lin Yue, I need posters. Wang Hao, bug testing. We have one month."
The empire had its foundation. Now, it was time to build the walls.