Chapter 199: Increase the Budget!
Lin Wan's confusion was perfectly normal. Back when she worked at Tianhuo Studio, the project she worked on was Bullet Hole. Later at Tenda, she participated in the development of Ocean Fortress and Game Producer. All of those were client-based PC games.
But Blood War Anthem was a web game, and compared to those, it might as well have been a completely different species.
Web games had their own unique design philosophy and way of thinking, filled with mature systems and mechanics rarely seen in PC titles.
Lin Wan hadn't just never participated in web game development—she had never even played a web game. She had zero interest in them.
Meanwhile, Ye Zhizhou and his colleagues were tossing around jargon specific to web game development, peppered with English abbreviations. When describing features, they casually used internal shorthand and nicknames.
As a result, even though they were all speaking Chinese, Lin Wan could only understand about thirty to forty percent of what they were saying.
It was like every single character was familiar—but when strung together, the sentence was incomprehensible.
All she could do was quietly take notes. She didn't nod, and she didn't ask questions.
She didn't nod—because she truly didn't understand, and she didn't want to fake it.
She didn't ask questions—because she was afraid of exposing her ignorance and embarrassing both herself and President Pei.
Meanwhile, Ye Zhizhou and Wang Xiaobin stole glances at her after every section.
Her expression was serious, her pen flying across her little notebook. Her face seemed unreadably profound, leaving them with no clue what she was thinking.
Though she looked young, no one dared underestimate her. Everyone knew President Pei's hiring philosophy—he never stuck to convention.
Anyone chosen by him was either extremely capable or possessed immense untapped potential. Either way, they could not afford to offend her.
After each section, Ye Zhizhou would pause slightly, deliberately leaving space for Lin Wan to chime in.
President Pei might not have touched the design document, but who knew? Perhaps this development director would offer her own insights.
But Lin Wan never said a word—she just kept writing.
Ye Zhizhou began doubting himself.
Wait… no objections at all?
Could it be that my design draft is flawless?
Impossible, right?
Or have I been underestimating myself all along?
…
Finally, the presentation ended. Ye Zhizhou quickly went over the timeline, the rough amount of art assets needed, and the projected budget for purchasing them—just over two million yuan.
Then, he looked at Lin Wan.
Surely now this director would say something.
Otherwise… what exactly was she here for?
Feeling the weight of everyone's expectant stares, Lin Wan panicked a little.
What do I do? I barely understood anything they just said!
Even the parts I did understand were basic concepts. If I brought those up, I'd look like a rookie.
Thankfully, she stayed calm under pressure—and successfully seized on one point she was certain President Pei would never be satisfied with.
"Everything else seems fine."
"But this budget… based on my understanding of President Pei, it definitely won't pass."
Ye Zhizhou stiffened. As expected—the budget was the problem!
Two million yuan was indeed a bit steep for a web game.
In the web game model, development costs were only a small fraction. Most of the money went toward marketing—buying banner ads, paying for web clicks, even hiring celebrities.
That was just the reality of the target audience for web games.
Web games mainly targeted office workers and wealthy businessmen. These players didn't care much about graphics. Most of them played secretly during work hours—they didn't want complicated controls, nor did they want to use their brains.
They just wanted to spend money, click the mouse, and slash enemies.
And since this demographic tended to have strong purchasing power, cutting down development costs and pouring money into marketing was the best way to maximize profits.
But when Ye Zhizhou was drafting the budget, he wasn't willing to follow the traditional formula.
After all, President Pei had personally approved this project. With a name like Enhanced Edition, they couldn't possibly release something on par with a standard web game, right?
The art assets had to be high-definition. The gameplay had to be polished to perfection.
So bit by bit, the budget swelled to over two million. Ye Zhizhou even discussed it with Wang Xiaobin, and both of them were quite satisfied with this figure.
Yet… it still wasn't enough?
Ye Zhizhou glanced nervously at Lin Wan, thinking: At most, we can cut three or four hundred thousand, but no more than that!
But Lin Wan calmly continued,
"I think… unless the budget is at least four million, President Pei won't approve this project."
"Actually, just bump it straight to five million. That way, when President Pei reviews it, he won't send it back, and you won't have to rework everything all over again."
Every time a budget was overturned, it meant redoing all the asset spreadsheets, replanning schedules, and replacing contracted artists and programmers.
If the budget doubled from two million to over four million, that wasn't a simple tweak—it would require a total overhaul.
So Lin Wan, being "considerate," simply saved them the trouble by raising the budget straight away—so they wouldn't have to redo it later when President Pei inevitably rejected the smaller figure.
Everyone in the room was dumbfounded.
Ye Zhizhou almost thought he'd misheard.
Two million was too little? Raise it to five million??
She'd just gone for the super-multiplier combo!
But judging from Lin Wan's serious expression, she definitely wasn't joking—this was a solemn warning.
Ye Zhizhou and Wang Xiaobin exchanged glances. Hesitantly, they said, "Five million? Isn't that way too much…?"
"Honestly, two million is plenty. More than enough."
Lin Wan shook her head. "It might be enough for you. But for President Pei, it's far from enough. You don't understand how obsessively he perfects the details. Trust me—go with five million."
Watching Ye Zhizhou lower his head and begin editing the budget sheet, Lin Wan couldn't help but smile knowingly.
'Now I finally understand why President Pei sent me here!'
'It wasn't just to learn about other genres of game design. More importantly, it was to transmit the Tenda spirit!'
'Look at Ye Zhizhou, timidly trimming the budget—he's just like Lu Mingliang used to be.'
'President Pei is far too busy to personally correct their bad habits. That's why he sent me! Not only is this an opportunity for me to grow, but it's also my mission to guide them onto the right path.'
'I need to provide spiritual leadership, helping them catch up to Tenda's standards.'
'President Pei wasn't lying—this really is a crucial responsibility!'
Ye Zhizhou quickly ran through the revised budget, frowning deeply.
"But… if the budget really goes up to five million, we'll run into another problem."
"We're only making a web game. Even if we replace all the assets with high-definition versions and hire top-tier concept artists, we still might not be able to spend that much…"
"On top of that, we're using the platform's official 2D engine, which doesn't support high-res assets very well. The improvements in quality may not even be noticeable."
"In short… the cost-effectiveness would be terrible."
Lin Wan thought for a moment.
"Then just switch engines—go straight to 3D."
Ye Zhizhou was momentarily speechless.
"3D…? But then it wouldn't be a web game anymore. The volume of art assets would be too large, and with current internet speeds, loading would be far too slow."
The defining feature of web games was instant play—all art assets were streamed in real time.
But with limited bandwidth, assets couldn't be too big. Otherwise, while the player had already walked into the next area, the assets for that area might still be loading. Wouldn't that be embarrassing?
Lin Wan had noticed this herself when playing the Blood War Anthem. Every time she entered a new area, she'd see "Loading resources," precisely because of this limitation.
After much back-and-forth, the problem still wasn't solved.
Lin Wan knew full well that a measly two-million budget could never meet President Pei's standards. But under the constraints of the web game model, even if the budget was raised to five million, it still wouldn't noticeably improve the visuals.
Unless… they ditched the web game model altogether, and made it into a client-based game. That way, players could download all the resources directly onto their own computers.
But if they did that…
The game's entire category would change. Wouldn't that completely derail everything?
At this point, Wang Xiaobin cleared his throat twice.
"Ahem, I think… if we really want to use HD resources and make a 3D version, we could try going with a micro-client."
"A miniature client, basically."
"Compared to a full-fledged client game, the download would be much smaller, and it wouldn't demand much from the player's computer. Compared to a web game, the visuals would see a clear improvement."
"Of course… there's a risk it might please neither side."
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