Three days after the launch of *Pocket Monsters*, the sales curve did something that terrified the analysts at Guangyi Interactive.
It didn't flatten.
In the entertainment industry, the standard sales curve was a sharp spike followed by a rapid decline. The hardcore fans bought the game on day one, the interested parties bought it on day two, and by day three, sales usually trickled to a halt.
But *Pocket Monsters* was defying gravity. The curve looked like a staircase. Every afternoon, when school let out, the sales numbers would spike again, higher than the day before.
"It's the 'Link Cable' effect," Zhong Ming explained to Li Cheng during an emergency meeting in the Director's office. "It's not just a game anymore; it's a social currency. If a child doesn't have it, they are excluded from the conversation at school. They are forced to buy it to participate."
Li Cheng looked at the holographic chart with undisguised awe. "We've restocked 50,000 units. They're vanishing as fast as we truck them in. Chairman Zhao just sent a personal commendation. He's never done that for a handheld title before."
"And Chen Xu?" Zhong Ming asked, leaning back in his chair.
Li Cheng's expression darkened. "That's the other side of the coin. *Warfront: Siege* sales have stalled. They hit their projected numbers, but the growth stopped dead. The user reviews are... mixed. Players are complaining that the game is 'stressful' and 'too expensive' to compete in."
Zhong Ming nodded slowly. This was the inevitable clash of philosophies. *Warfront* was designed to extract money through frustration; *Pocket Monsters* was designed to extract joy through engagement.
"Chen Xu isn't going to take this lying down," Li Cheng warned. "He has powerful allies in the media. I've already received reports that several 'gaming critique' articles are being shopped around, calling *Pocket Monsters* a 'simplified, regressive product that rots children's brains.'"
Zhong Ming chuckled. "Let them write it."
"Let them?"
"Any publicity is good publicity," Zhong Ming quoted. "Besides, the people writing those reviews aren't our customers. The kids playing the game don't read corporate tech blogs. They read playground rumors. And right now, the playground rumors are about Mew."
***
The "Mew" phenomenon was something Zhong Ming had engineered with surgical precision.
He had programmed the 151st monster, Mew, into the game code but provided no legitimate way to catch it. It was a phantom data slot, a ghost in the machine.
Then, he had quietly "leaked" a rumor through a few trusted street team members: *If you push the truck near the S.S. Anne with Strength, you find Mew.*
It was impossible. The code didn't support it. But that didn't stop millions of children from trying.
In schools across District 9, the obsession was palpable.
"Did you find it?"
"No, but my cousin's friend said he saw the truck move!"
"Liars! It's a glitch! No, wait, it's a secret event!"
The mystery fueled the sales. The game wasn't just a product; it was a conspiracy.
***
Chen Xu sat in his luxurious office on the top floor, watching the sun set over the city. His assistant stood nervously by the door.
"The sales gap is widening, sir," the assistant reported. "*Pocket Monsters* has outsold *Warfront* by 20% this week. And... there's more."
"Spit it out," Chen Xu snapped, swirling his whiskey.
"The network effect. We're seeing a drop in *Warfront* active users. The player retention rate has dropped by 15%. When we surveyed the departing players, they said... they were 'busy training their monsters.'"
Chen Xu slammed his glass down on the table. The amber liquid sloshed over the rim.
"A pixel game," Chen Xu hissed. "A toy for toddlers is killing my quarterly bonus. It's an embarrassment."
"It gets worse," the assistant hesitated. "The retailers are asking to return unsold *Warfront* stock to make shelf space for the second shipment of *Pocket Monsters*. They say *Pocket Monsters* has a 'high velocity' turnover."
Chen Xu took a deep breath, forcing himself to calm down. He was a businessman. He didn't get to where he was by panicking. He analyzed the situation like a battlefield commander.
"It's a bubble," Chen Xu declared. "It's a fad. It relies on social pressure. Once the novelty wears off, the lack of graphical fidelity will hurt them. We need to accelerate the *Warfront* update. Push the new pay-to-win tank pack. Remind the core gamers what 'real' gaming looks like."
"And regarding Zhong Ming, sir?"
Chen Xu's eyes narrowed. "The Chairman has taken an interest in him. I can't touch him directly. But... the industry has rules."
He turned to his assistant. "The Annual District Game Awards are coming up next month. The nomination committee is meeting this week. I want you to make sure *Pocket Monsters* is nominated for 'Best Technical Achievement'."
The assistant blinked. "Sir? That's... usually a high-tier category for graphics and physics. *Pocket Monsters* has neither. Nominating it there would be insulting."
"Exactly," Chen Xu smiled coldly. "Let's give the 'World Architect' a taste of reality. Nominate him for the big categories against the AAA giants. Let him see how his pixel art holds up against photorealism on the main stage. We'll humiliate him publicly."
***
Two days later, the nominations for the District 9 Game Awards were announced.
Division B was buzzing. Zhong Ming stood by the coffee machine, reading the notification on his bracelet.
**Nominations for *Pocket Monsters*:**
* **Best Handheld Game**
* **Best Technical Achievement**
* **Game of the Year**
Wang Hao nearly choked on his instant noodles. "Game of the Year?! Are they crazy? We're a handheld game! That category is dominated by console blockbusters and PC simulations!"
"It's a trap," Lin Yue said, her arms crossed. She was looking at the other nominees. "Look at who we are up against. *Cyber-Soldier 3*, *Warfront: Siege*, and *Galaxy Frontiers*. Those games have budgets in the hundreds of millions. They have orchestras, motion capture, cinematic stories. We have... sprites."
Old Zhang grunted from his corner. "It's a setup. Chen Xu must have pulled strings. If we go up there and lose 'Game of the Year', the narrative becomes 'Overhyped Indie Flop'. The bubble bursts."
Zhong Ming scrolled through the list of nominees for 'Best Technical Achievement'. Alongside *Pocket Monsters* were titles known for their advanced physics engines and ray-tracing capabilities.
"They want to pit us against their strengths," Zhong Ming said, a smile touching his lips. "They think graphics equal technology."
He looked at his team.
"They think we are primitive. They think 'Technical Achievement' means how many polygons you can render."
Zhong Ming tapped the screen.
"But they forgot one thing. Wang Hao, do you remember the memory compression you did?"
"Yeah, the nightmare."
"That *is* technical achievement," Zhong Ming stated firmly. "Optimizing a massive world into a tiny chip is harder than building a pretty world on a supercomputer. They think technology is about power. I know technology is about efficiency."
He turned to the team.
"We aren't going to withdraw. We are going to the Awards. And we are going to win."
"But how?" Lin Yue asked. "The judges are old-school industry vets. They love graphics."
Zhong Ming's eyes glinted. "We don't target the judges. We target the audience. The award show is televised. We have 100,000 players now. That's our army."
He checked his system.
**[New Task: Win the District 9 Game of the Year Award.]**
**[Difficulty: S-Class.]**
**[Reward: System Upgrade - "Console Architecture" Blueprints.]**
"Console Architecture," Zhong Ming thought. That was the key to the next stage. Moving from handhelds to home consoles. To the world of *Super Mario*, *Zelda*, and eventually, *Dark Souls*.
He needed this win.
"Prepare the acceptance speech," Zhong Ming said. "And Wang Hao... bring the development kit. We're going to do a live demonstration."
"Live demo? On stage?"
"Yes. I'm going to show them exactly how much 'technology' is hidden inside a pixel."
The trap had been set, but Zhong Ming intended to spring it on the hunters.