Starting as a Manga Editor-Chapter 132: Sheng Zhi’s Arrogance

While Tang Yao’s Avalon Studio was thriving,
a certain startup was also buzzing with activity.
“All the players are in! They’re coming in!”
One of the staff shouted excitedly.
But Sheng Zhi, the producer, remained calm. He simply replied, “Keep a close eye on it. Give me the data later.”
He was the same well-known producer that Lin Shuang had invested in after seeing FGO’s success—intending to follow the trend and make a second-dimension mobile game.
But following a trend was one thing.
Truth be told,
Sheng Zhi actually looked down on so-called second-dimension games. He had studied them, sure—but only because of the money.
Otherwise, why would he bother making these kinds of garbage games?
Second dimension? Mobile games? Ha! The whole gaming industry is trash! And this so-called second-dimension genre? The trash of the trash.
He didn’t like games—
or maybe he once did. But now? Not at all.
In his eyes, subcultures like this weren’t worth mentioning.
Even regular games were low-tier. Second-dimension mobile games? Even lower than low.
Anyone who liked playing these kinds of games was just a bunch of horny pigs!
They’d lose their minds at the sight of anime-style illustrations and dump in cash like crazy.
Absolutely ridiculous.
And the worst part?
After he went through all that trouble making a game, those pig-like players dared to give him feedback? Feedback, my ss! What the h*ll do they know about game design?
Their dumb*ss complaints even got him fired. Total idiots!
Yes.
This so-called "famous producer" didn’t leave voluntarily. What actually happened was:
While working at a major company on a profitable game project, he got into a public argument with players—
All because they didn’t like certain updates and requested changes. He fired back with, “What the h*ll do you players know about making games?”
That one line triggered the entire community.
He snapped and started a full-blown flame war with players, saying some really nasty stuff.
In the end, players boycotted the game.
To calm things down and show they were taking action, the company kicked Sheng Zhi out.
The upper management was furious—how could he actually say something like that?
After getting fired,
he just happened to catch the wave of FGO launching.
So he used the experience he’d gained from working with big data in his previous company, along with his title as a “former major studio producer,” to convince Lin Shuang to give him funding.
A lot of creators, once they’ve satisfied their material needs, tend to crave some kind of spiritual validation.
At that point, they start rejecting low-status preferences—even if those very things made them rich. They’ll distance themselves and express outright disgust.
In Tang Yao’s previous life, Shanda's Chen Tianqiao was like that.
And now, Sheng Zhi was following the same path.
Even though Sheng Zhi hadn’t really made it to the top yet.
That didn’t stop him from hating the kind of games that he thought were beneath him.
So why did he choose to make a second-dimension mobile game?
Simple. To make a quick buck.
In his view, those pig-like players were getting easier and easier to fool.
Just slap a few anime-style illustrations on a product, and the money would come pouring in.
If someone was going to scam them,
might as well be him.
But did he actually respect these types of games?
What a joke.
That’s why he didn’t put much effort into it.
He just copied the FGO model, pieced together a mobile game, and to save time, outsourced most of the artwork. He just wanted to finish the game before the New Year.
And he pulled it off…
He completed the beta version before New Year’s and immediately pushed for closed testing, eager to cash in.
As for stuff like market trends or external changes?
He didn’t care at all.
In his mind, this blue ocean market only had one competitor—FGO.
No way this wouldn’t be a money printer.
Why pay attention to external factors?
He didn’t even track FGO’s recent moves.
To him, FGO was just a fluke that hit the jackpot by understanding those dumb pig players’ preferences.
As long as he understood their gameplay and features and mimicked that, then nailed the promo campaign,
all that was left was to sit back and wait for the pigs to line up and spend.
Wasn’t that what was happening now?
“……”
Sheng Zhi heard the numbers for player logins and smirked.
Then he turned to head back to his workstation.
But just as he turned—
A young staff member hesitated for a moment, then stood up and called out, “Boss.”
“Hmm?”
Sheng Zhi stopped and gave a nasal grunt.
The young staffer said quietly, “Actually… part of why FGO succeeded was their manga pre-launch. It helped them gather a large group of core second-dimension users. But we’re advertising on major web portals and traditional MMO channels… I feel like we’re attracting the wrong kind of players. And our game feels rushed—the story hasn’t been polished, the writers just followed MMO logic and churned out filler plots. And the illustrations…”
“Are you trying to teach me how to do my job?”
Sheng Zhi frowned and cut him off mid-sentence.
The young staffer froze,
then after a long pause, said, “No, I just meant… maybe we could take another look at FGO, especially their pre-launch strategy. Also, I recently discovered a second-dimension vertical platform—”
“I don’t care what you meant.”
Sheng Zhi still didn’t let him finish. He waved dismissively and said, “Back when I was a producer at a major studio, you were still in school! When I made Dragon War, you hadn’t even graduated yet! You really think you know better than me how to run a game? Or are you trying to teach me how to make one?”
“……”
The young staffer opened his mouth.
But here’s the thing—
You made an MMO back then.
Do you honestly believe that just making a second-dimension mobile game means every gamer will accept it?
Back then, FGO pulled out all the stops.
They used a stellar manga to bring in a precise audience, and even then, the game was met with resistance early on. It only got better after in-game footage came out.
And you—
you’re handpicking beta testers through traditional advertising channels.
Are these people even your target demographic?
Will they even like this game?
Your game art is average—FGO crushes it.
Your story is all filler.
And to save time, you copied FGO’s gameplay completely—no PvP, just story and character-focused.
But do you even have story or characters?
Your half-baked plot and forgettable cast—who’s going to care?
It doesn’t appeal to MMO players,
and it certainly doesn’t appeal to core second-dimension users.
You're caught in the middle, blocked on both ends!
For a moment,
the young staffer had a million thoughts swirling in his head.
But before he could organize his words and say anything more—
“Just do your job!”
Sheng Zhi threw out the line and left.
The young staffer stared after him, stunned, then shook his head.
He got it now…
This so-called star producer—
didn’t like second-dimension games, didn’t understand them,
and was incredibly arrogant.
His entire approach to making games relied on copying and past experience.
And his “experience” was limited to mimicking whatever was trending on the market.
When it came to actual operations and strategy, he was completely clueless…
But it made sense—
big studios had clear divisions of labor. You just gave the order, and specialists would handle it.
If this were a big studio, their operations team would’ve done a deep dive on FGO’s user profile.
But now that this “famous producer” had gone solo,
he was running every part of the process based purely on his own experience…