The launch of *Plants vs. Zombies* was nothing like the launch of *Pocket Monsters*.
There were no midnight line-ups. There were no street teams with link cables. There was no physical cartridge to hold.
It was a silent invasion.
Zhong Ming sat in his office, watching the holographic dashboard projected from his bracelet. The metrics weren't measuring "Units Sold." They were measuring **Downloads** and **DAU (Daily Active Users).**
"It's been three hours," Wang Hao said, pacing the room. He looked like he had forgotten how to sleep. "We have 500 downloads. Is that good? For a free game, that seems low. *Warfront* gets thousands of downloads an hour."
Zhong Ming took a sip of his tea, his expression placid. "Wang Hao, do you understand how viral marketing works on a closed network?"
"It... spreads?"
"Like a virus," Zhong Ming corrected. "The Bracelet App Store doesn't have a 'Top Charts' yet because the system hasn't refreshed. Right now, the only people playing are the ones who happened to scroll to the 'New Releases' section in the back alley of the store. We are currently invisible."
Wang Hao slumped. "So it's a flop?"
"I didn't say that," Zhong Ming smiled. "I said we are invisible. But we are about to become contagious."
***
At 12:30 PM, the lunch break began across District 9.
In the bustling cafeteria of the United Government Offices, a young clerk named Sarah sat down with her synthetic nutrient meal. She was bored. She had finished her daily tasks and had twenty minutes to kill.
She tapped her bracelet, opening the App Store. She usually played match-three puzzle games or read the news, but everything felt stale.
She saw a small, colorful icon in the corner. *Plants vs. Zombies.*
"Plants fighting zombies?" she muttered. "Sounds stupid."
But the art was cute. The sunflower looked happy.
She tapped [Download].
The file was tiny. It installed in seconds.
*"There is a zombie on your lawn…"*
A catchy, slightly off-beat song played. A cartoon zombie shambled onto the screen. A hand popped up. *"Help!"*
Sarah smiled. It was funny.
The tutorial started. Tap the sun. Plant a peashooter. Watch the zombie get hit in the face by a pea.
"Fifty sun," she calculated. "I need two rows."
She played level one. She won. A sense of satisfaction washed over her. It was quick. It was easy.
She played level two. A new plant! A Sunflower!
By level five, she was frowning in concentration. The zombies were wearing traffic cones on their heads. They were taking more hits.
"Cones? Why are they wearing cones? That's hilarious!" she laughed.
A colleague sat down opposite her. "What are you playing, Sarah? You look intense."
"Oh, this stupid game," Sarah said, not looking up. "It's just... these plants. And these zombies. Wait, I need a Wall-nut! Oh no, he's eating my Wall-nut! Stop eating him, you monster!"
Her colleague leaned over. "Can I download it too?"
"Yeah, it's free. Just search for the flower icon."
Ten minutes later, three other people at the table were tapping frantically on their bracelets.
"I need more sun!"
"I hate that bucket-head zombie!"
"Why is the voice so cute?"
The social loop had begun.
***
By 5:00 PM, the App Store servers for District 9 began to strain.
The "New Releases" section was no longer sorted by date. It was sorted by velocity.
*Plants vs. Zombies* had rocketed from the bottom of the list to the #1 spot in the "Free" category.
In the boardroom of Guangyi Interactive, Chen Xu was reviewing his monthly revenue report. His assistant burst in, looking pale.
"Sir, the server load for the app store."
"What about it?" Chen Xu snapped. "Is *Warfront* crashing again? I told you the micro-transaction server needed an upgrade."
"No, sir. It's not *Warfront*. It's the public app store. Traffic has spiked 400% in the last two hours. The network administrators are reporting a DDOS-like event, but it's not an attack. It's just... downloads."
"Downloads of what?"
The assistant hesitated. "It's... *Plants vs. Zombies*. Zhong Ming's casual game."
Chen Xu stood up, knocking his chair over. "That pixel trash? But it's free! It's a casual game for housewives!"
"Sir, the telemetry shows it's not just housewives. It's office workers. It's students. Even some of our programmers are playing it. The 'Freemium' model... it seems to be working."
"How can it be working if it's free?" Chen Xu roared. "Zero dollars times a million is still zero!"
"They have ads, sir. And a 'Premium' unlock. The conversion rate... it's unprecedented."
***
**Apex Studio.**
The team was watching the numbers climb in real-time.
**Downloads: 10,000.**
**Active Users: 8,500.**
**Ad Revenue: 500 Credits... 1,000 Credits... 2,000 Credits.**
"Two thousand credits in ad revenue in one afternoon!" Wang Hao shouted. "That's more than some paid games make in a month!"
"And look at the Premium unlocks," Lin Yue pointed out. "People are paying to remove the ads. They like the game so much they are voluntarily giving us money just to support it."
Zhong Ming nodded. This was the power of the "respectful monetization" model. In his previous life, many developers had killed their games with greed. But *Plants vs. Zombies* had always been beloved because it felt fair.
"Zhong Ming," Su Xiaoxiao, the new hire, walked in. She looked tired but happy. "The user feedback forums are blowing up. But there is a common request."
"What is it?"
"They want a 'Zen Garden'. A place to just water plants and relax. They say the game is fun, but they get attached to the plants and want to take care of them."
Zhong Ming looked at her, surprised. "That is a great idea. That was a feature added in later versions in my... previous concepts. You came up with that yourself?"
Su Xiaoxiao blushed. "Well, I noticed people were hesitating to let their Wall-nuts get eaten. They treat them like pets. A Zen Garden would monetize well—selling fertilizer and water."
"Implement it," Zhong Ming ordered. "But make the plants hum when they are happy. Old Zhang, can you make them hum?"
"I can make them sing opera if you want," Old Zhang grunted, but he was smiling.
Zhong Ming stood up. The mobile market was secured. The "Green Tsunami" was washing over the district.
It was time.
He looked at his bracelet.
**[Current Points: 95.]**
He was so close to the 100-point threshold for a major draw. Or perhaps, enough to unlock a specific specialized blueprint.
He had the Handheld market (*Pokemon*). He had the Mobile market (*Plants vs. Zombies*). The "Bottom" was built. The foundation was solid.
He walked to the window, looking out at the city. In the distance, he could see the massive skyscrapers of the entertainment giants—companies that produced massive, immersive VR worlds and console experiences.
That was the final frontier. The world of AAA.
"Li Cheng," Zhong Ming said, calling the director. "I need a meeting with the Chairman. And I need him to invite the head of the Hardware Division."
"The Hardware Division?" Li Cheng's voice was confused over the comm. "Why? We're a software studio."
"Because software defines hardware," Zhong Ming said, his eyes fixed on the horizon. "And I'm tired of running on other people's machines. I want to build a console."
He heard a sharp intake of breath on the other end.
"Are you insane? Console development requires billions of credits! R&D, manufacturing, supply chains—"
"Not from scratch," Zhong Ming said. "We partner. But I dictate the architecture."
He hung up.
Zhong Ming turned back to his screen. The sound of the zombies groaning and the peas shooting filled the room. It was the sound of money, yes. But more importantly, it was the sound of a world waking up to play.
He opened the System Shop.
**[Item Available: Console System Architecture (Home Console Standard).]**
**[Cost: 100 Points.]**
He was 5 points short.
He looked at the download counter.
**Downloads: 25,000.**
**[System Alert: Milestone Reached. Popularizing Casual Gaming.]**
**[Bonus Points Awarded: 10.]**
**[Current Points: 105.]**
Zhong Ming smiled.
"System," he thought. "Purchase Console System Architecture."
**[Purchase Confirmed.]**
**[Item: Console System Architecture acquired.]**
**[Description: A blueprint for a unified gaming architecture that bridges the gap between home entertainment and arcade performance. Includes specifications for a unique controller design optimized for 3D movement.]**
He had the blueprints. He had the money. Now, he just needed to convince a room full of businessmen that a game designer knew how to build a computer better than they did.
"Phase Two," Zhong Ming whispered. "The Living Room."