Almighty Game Designer

Most of the gamers didn’t immediately start playing, but instead looked at the main screen. They waited for the introductions, only playing a game when they felt it was interesting enough.

The deep voice of the male emcee boomed throughout the venue.

“Contestant number Seven, entry: FlappyBird!

“In this game, the player controls the flight of a bird through tapping the screen, navigating obstacles. For every obstacle you clear, you gain one point.

“The game also has online capabilities and a leaderboard. Um, yes. Leaderboard?” the emcee stuttered during his delivery. He was in the middle of trying to make the game sound impressive, but alas he had failed.

Even a well-known professional emcee couldn’t find other parts of the game to be praiseworthy. All he could do was awkwardly repeat its online capabilities and its leaderboard.

Yep, it was an online game, to some extent.

Snickers came from the audience. Sure, there were a few more simple games among the earlier entries, but they were not this simple!

Judging from the screen, this barely passed as a game, by just a hair…

It was so simple it was an eyesore.

There were no other mechanics in sight.

There was only one boring playstyle.

Who’s gonna play this?

Looking back at the three judges, Shi HuaZhe looked pale. Lin Hai was shocked.

Qiu HengYang felt that there was more to it and was trying to confirm on the tablet if the game really was that simple.

It was obvious that all three judges were thinking the same thing: Game mechanics like this still exist?

How did the game designer clear the preliminaries with such a game?

The contestants also sniggerred, their stress and anxiety from before had been relieved.

Many were trying to scope out who designer number Seven was. Were they not afraid of becoming the laughing stock of the video game industry if this got out?

Chen Mo remained calm and collected. Nobody could tell that he was the designer number Seven they were looking for.

The contestants did not have their entry numbers on them. This was to prevent cheating or prejudice from both judges and the audience because of the contestant’s identity.

The emcee continued to introduce the other games. This incident had become an interlude, passed off as a joke by many.

Chen Mo felt that the time was right. He discretely turned on the virtual display from his bracelet and activated the super focuser.

Chen Mo had already tested it before. Only he could see the virtual display, therefore he was able to use it in crowds at any time.

After that, Chen Mo had the attention of the judges and the majority of the audience, exactly five hundred people, all focus on his game.

A countdown timer had appeared on his virtual screen, showing ten minutes. For the next ten minutes, all their attention would be on his game.

After it had was done, Chen Mo stayed on his seat quietly, waiting.

As they say, do one’s best and leave the rest to fate. This was the time to leave it to fate.

——

Among the audience, a student turned on their tablet, ready to try out a game.

Originally, he never even considered touching a game like FlappyBird, but for some reason, he involuntarily tapped on it’s icon.

“Huh?” He was a bit shocked, but he could feel a voice inside him, strongly cheering him on, chanting: Try it out, try it out…

“Wasn’t this that extremely simple game… doesn’t look like it’ll be any fun.

“… Whatever, I’ll just try it out.”

The student tapped the screen in the end and started the game.

—

Another couple was playing a two-player online dogfight game, but the woman felt a sudden disinterest.

“It’s so boring, let’s try another one,” said the woman;

The man nodded, “Alright, I also found it boring, but what’s next?”

The couple looked through the twenty games and somehow landed on the fat and ugly bird icon of FlappyBird.

The woman said, “I think this game has online capabilities and a leaderboard. Why not try this out?”

The man hesitated, “Alright, but is this game fun?”

“We’ll know when we play. Wasn’t there an online leaderboard? Let’s see who gets the higher score,” replied the woman.

“Alright!” the man replied with a nod.

The couple both tapped on the bird icon of FlappyBird.

—

The effect of the Super Focuser was seen immediately, as five hundred people opened FlappyBird for some unexplained reason and started playing. This included the three judges!

Shi Huazhe was still furious. Upon seeing the introduction for FlappyBird, he’d almost stood up and requested they cancel designer number Seven’s entry.

After all, Shi Huazhe was the oldest of the three judges. People tend to become a stick in the mud when they get older. According to him, this wasn’t considered a game, a joke maybe, and most definitely brought shame to video game designers.

-How can someone like this get past the preliminaries? Did the organizers not review their abilities properly?

-Or perhaps… family connections?

-Even competitions like this have a shady side. What a shame!-

Shi HuaZhe was still angry, but he found that he couldn’t control himself. Out of the twenty icons on the screen, he felt that the stupid fat bird the most compelling, as if it took up the entire screen.

“… I do want to find out how crappy it can be.”

Shi Huazhe tapped the stupid bird icon and started the game.

He still didn’t feel too good about playing it, as if it was degrading him. When he finally glanced at his fellow judges, they also had FlappyBird on their screens!

“…” It looked like he wasn’t the only one.

The other two judges, Lin Hai and Qiu Hengyang were also playing FlappyBird!

—

Qiu Hengyang wasn’t playing because of the influence of the Super Focuser. He had noticed a problem when the emcee was introducing the game.

Why would anyone spend the time and effort to add online and leaderboard functions to such a simple game?

It felt completely unnecessary. Why not design a few new levels, or a new character with the extra effort?

With this question in mind, Qiu Hengyang tapped the stupid fat bird icon.

The initial image was very simple, telling the players to tap on the screen to make the bird fly upwards. Other than that there weren’t any other hints.

On the top of the screen was a zero, probably referring to the score.

The graphics of the game were exactly the same as the one shown on the main screen, so simple it was offensive. The bird looked like a ball, along with two emotionless eyes and hotdog lips, and two small wings. No matter how you look at it, it just looked stupid.

Furthermore, there was another point of interest.

Qiu Hengyang tapped the screen while trying the game.

The stupid bird flew like a drowning salted fish, flying slightly upwards just a tiny bit. Then it immediately took a nosedive, dying once it hit the pipes.

Qiu HengYang, “…”

-What is this even?!-