By July, the entire company had shifted its focus toward the release of 'Yu-Gi-Oh!' and 'Pokémon'. The operations department poured all its energy and resources into launching these two titles.
The Great Zhou market was a given. After so many years, Jing Yu had long since built a mature promotional network in Great Zhou, and public anticipation for anything he produced was sky-high. Even many fans who originally followed his dramas and films—people who didn't even play games—had been drawn in by the charm of his previous titles. Many had come to appreciate the joy of gaming thanks to Jing Yu.
However, Jing Yu had some concerns about the international market. No matter how influential he was within Great Zhou, he didn't have the funding or network to establish global marketing channels on his own. Realistically, overseas promotion depended heavily on third-party distribution platforms.
Just like in Jing Yu's previous life, platforms like Steam, Nintendo, and Microsoft controlled the means of distribution. Most game developers could only create, not sell. It was like a farmer growing rice and needing e-commerce platforms to actually move the product.
When it came to the success of a game, quality was just one factor — if the distribution channels didn't work, even the best wine might be left sitting in a deep alley.
Whether it's movies, TV, or games, fans might not realize this — but production companies are often not the ones with the power. It's the distributors who act like kings.
Would overseas partners drop the ball at the last minute? No one could say.
But at least, as of late July, everything was going smoothly. Jing Yu had paid all the promotional fees on time, and the international partners kept their word. The marketing impact he wanted had been achieved.
For nearly a month, 'Yu-Gi-Oh!' had remained in the top 3 of globally trending game titles among players worldwide.
By August, Jing Yu put a pause on his in-person promotional efforts. At this point, everything that needed doing had been done. The rest was up to the market.
Time passed, day by day.
On August 17th — the day before 'Yu-Gi-Oh!' officially launched — the PC platform opened its pre-download feature right at midnight, thanks to Jing Yu's request.
This meant eager players could start downloading overnight and have the game ready to go by the time the Day One patch dropped at 8 AM. With the patch installed, they'd be able to jump in at the same time as console players.
For the fans who had long been hooked on the hype, nerves were running high.
Once the clock hit release time, thousands of players updated and installed the patch. Then came the final step — clicking the "Launch Game" button.
After a brief black screen…
Feng Wei entered the game, heart racing.
He hadn't even eaten breakfast — he was determined to be one of the first to play.
Like most games, it opened with a beautifully animated CG intro.
While 'Yu-Gi-Oh!' was essentially a card battle game, it didn't feature live-action fights or complex control mechanics. Players took on the role of Yugi Mutou, progressing through the story, defeating iconic rivals, rescuing his grandfather, and unraveling the mystery behind the Millennium Puzzle and the second persona inside Yugi.
Technically, it was a role-playing game — but gameplay was king.
Jing Yu had merged the original manga's story with well-designed card mechanics. The beginner tutorial was simple, intuitive, and taught new players the rules of Duel Monsters effectively.
You might think it's just a basic card game — how exciting can that be?
But in reality, 'Yu-Gi-Oh!' had over 20,000 cards across 8,000 unique types in Jing Yu's past life. That's a far cry from a deck of 52 playing cards.
Of course, not all those cards were included in this version.
This initial release of 'Yu-Gi-Oh!' focused on the first arc of the manga, where Yugi is the main protagonist. The core gameplay lets players follow the story, duel iconic characters, and gradually learn the mechanics — with some light collectible side content.
Why only a limited collection feature?
Because Jing Yu wasn't about to let players beat Kaiba and snatch all three Blue-Eyes White Dragons right off the bat. Nor was he going to hand over the Egyptian God Cards — Obelisk the Tormentor, Slifer the Sky Dragon, and The Winged Dragon of Ra — in the first playthrough.
And as for the overpowered Exodia the Forbidden One set? If you allowed players to obtain that too early, the game would be completely broken.
Players would just grind to collect those cards, then breeze through every duel.
Pegasus? Bakura? They'd be nothing. Where's the fun in that?
This first version of the game was meant to draw players in with Yugi's strong narrative arc — to build hype for future sequels and expansions, and especially for physical card sets.
In Jing Yu's past life, a single Blue-Eyes White Dragon card could sell for hundreds of thousands of yuan, despite costing less than a hundred to produce. The global sales of official cards exceeded 35 billion copies — even if most were low-value, the sheer volume created a gold mine.
So when Feng Wei and others across Great Zhou logged in for the first time, their initial reactions were...
"What is this?"
"Duel Monsters…? Sounds kind of childish."
"Why is the protagonist Yugi always going on about friendship, teamwork, and bonds? So cringe…"
But as soon as the intro tutorial played out — where Yugi's grandfather's Blue-Eyes White Dragon was targeted by Kaiba, leading to their first fated duel — all that skepticism disappeared.
Sure, the plot was dramatic. But it also introduced the Millennium Puzzle and the second persona inside Yugi — the "other" Yugi.
And it worked.
In a world full of hyper-realistic games and instant gratification, 'Yu-Gi-Oh!' was surprisingly emotional. The themes might seem childish — but they were also deeply moving.
Compared to the low-budget 'Yu-Gi-Oh!' games of Jing Yu's previous world, which had poor graphics and clunky effects, the Great Zhou version was a huge leap forward.
In early story scenes, this difference wasn't obvious. But when the first duel began, and those gorgeously modeled monsters appeared on screen — full of detailed textures, lighting, and attack animations — Feng Wei was hooked.
He even zoomed in to inspect the monsters' fur and armor up close using the camera.
And at the climax of the tutorial?
Kaiba summoned all three Blue-Eyes White Dragons — a signature move.
But just then, Feng Wei "miraculously" drew all five parts of Exodia the Forbidden One.
"The card I've drawn is… Exodia the Forbidden One!"
Yugi's voice echoed through the screen as he grinned with that classic, over-the-top smirk.
Yes, it was cheesy.
But it was also so hyped.
Feng Wei flipped over the five cards one by one. Exodia appeared on the battlefield, massive and majestic, with chains breaking around his muscular frame and glowing summoning circles bursting behind him.
"So cool…"
For a moment, Feng Wei felt an overwhelming, genuine excitement.
A veteran gamer, he quickly realized this wasn't a random draw — it was part of the tutorial.
But even after that realization, the feeling remained. It was just that powerful.
With a burst of light, Exodia wiped out Kaiba's dragons like they were nothing. Kaiba's life points dropped to zero instantly.
As the battle ended, the screen transitioned.
On the stormy dueling platform, only the "other" Yugi remained standing — cape fluttering, arms crossed, victorious smirk on his face.
"So this is the kind of game it is?"
Feng Wei had only played for 20 minutes, but he already understood the game's appeal.
The story served as a tutorial, introducing players to card mechanics while gradually unveiling tougher opponents and new decks to keep things fresh.
Curious, he went back to study Yugi's deck.
Unlike in the anime, where the audience didn't know what cards Yugi had until he played them, the game had to show players their full deck up front.
Even just analyzing a few dozen early-game cards took him 40 to 50 minutes — and he was loving it.
Fusion mechanics, summoning methods for Red-Eyes Black Dragon, Blue-Eyes Fusion — those weren't obvious unless you unlocked them through the story.
And after all that, what did he do?
He went straight to the game forums.
What greeted him?
A flood of posts from confused players, just like him.
"Does anyone know how fusion cards work in this game?"
"I'm so pissed. Why is Weevil in this game?! That little freak threw my Exodia off the boat, and now I can't get it back! I reloaded my save like eight times, and I still can't figure out how to avoid that event. Someone help — I just wanna get to Duelist Kingdom and destroy him with Exodia."
"It's a scripted loss. You have to meet Weevil. He always tosses your cards overboard. It's part of the plot."
"Seriously?! So my badass Exodia is only usable in the tutorial?!"
"Bro, yes. That deck is basically an official cheat code. They let you try it once to feel the power — that's it. Imagine bringing that into the full game. Every duel would be over in five turns."
"Still sucks though. That smug bug freak threw my Exodia into the sea. I'm coming for him when I reach the island."
"Don't bother. I tried. He's OP on the island. That Ultimate Great Moth has 3500 attack. I rage quit after losing three times in a row, even with save scumming."
"I hate this! I swear the system is rigged. I can never draw the right combo — just random junk every turn."
"LOL, glad it's not just me. We're all trash. Maybe the devs set it up so Yugi can't beat Weevil until later. Like you need to level up your skills — especially that Fate stat that boosts draw luck."
"So what now?"
"Go duel someone else, level up, and come back later."
Day one of launch, and the forums were already overflowing with strategy posts.
Since this was the first version of 'Yu-Gi-Oh!', it emphasized both story and mechanics. Player freedom was limited, and the draw system was semi-guided.
But not overly so.
Once players got used to the rules and card types, future versions would likely include full randomness — maybe even online PvP modes with custom decks.
But that was still down the road.
For now, Great Zhou gamers, who'd never seen anything like this before, were happily immersed. Even with some complaints about scripted events, their overall experience was overwhelmingly positive.
With time, forum threads about duel mechanics and strategy exploded.
The story, the collectible cards, the battles — all were part of the fun.
But the biggest joy?
The heated debates, fan theories, and gameplay discussions between players.
And all this?
Happened on Day One.