There were quite a few community group leaders who had experiences similar to Chen Sha.
When Lin Wan reached out to them, asking for help testing the game, most of them had the same first reaction: resistance.
"You want us to test the game for free?"
"Trying to freeload off us?"
But out of courtesy or friendship, many still downloaded it and gave it a try.
And once they did…
They couldn't stop playing.
Ocean Fortress simplified the controls, which made things more enjoyable for newcomers. But for veteran players—especially diehard fans of Counter-Terrorism Plan—this kind of accessibility might have triggered instinctive rejection.
But the story mode of Ocean Fortress handled this perfectly.
These hardcore players got pulled into the campaign first. And over several hours of gameplay, they gradually got used to the game's unique "feel"—making the transition smooth and painless.
In fact, after getting used to this new feel, many found themselves struggling to return to Counter-Terrorism Plan!
"Why is weapon switching so slow?"
"Why is recoil control so hard?"
"Everything feels sluggish!"
Suddenly, playing Counter-Terrorism Plan became frustrating!
Of course, Counter-Terrorism Plan was a top-tier competitive game, and naturally, it had to implement strict mechanics for balance.
For example, fast weapon switching could make quick-scoping overpowered, so the devs deliberately made switching slower to maintain fairness.
But Ocean Fortress? It didn't care about that.
It just wanted you to have fun.
"Balance? Bro, I made a gun that costs 888 RMB and shoots rainbow flames—And you wanna talk to me about balance?"
To these old-school players, it felt like they were suddenly set free.
The gameplay was silky smooth—fast, responsive, and fun.
They couldn't help but think: This game is so simple… and so satisfying.
Then when they tried going back to Counter-Terrorism Plan?
They couldn't.
They were too used to Ocean Fortress's feel.
From easy to hard is tough.
From hard to easy? Incredibly easy.
And Ocean Fortress didn't just have a campaign—it had a ton of multiplayer modes too!
Compared to Bullet Hole and Counter-Terrorism Plan, Ocean Fortress's Ghost Mode, Biohazard Mode, and other fresh formats were a total breath of fresh air.
In fact, these modes were born as a random flash of inspiration from Bao Xu and Huang Sibo during campaign development.
Their original intent?
Make use of the zombie models and other "leftover" art assets.
In terms of gameplay design, they weren't polished—balance was rough, and the mechanics needed tuning.
But who cared?
No other games on the market were even offering these modes—there was zero competition.
And ironically, many players preferred Ghost Mode and Biohazard Mode over the standard PvP.
Despite being wildly unbalanced, they were great for casual matches.
People just wanted to have fun—and Ocean Fortress delivered.
Within just a few days, Ocean Fortress spread like wildfire through FPS gaming communities.
. . . . . . .
Friday.
After finishing his final exam for his specialization course, Pei Qian finally had a moment to breathe.
He had made up his mind:
It was time to face the crushing reality of Ocean Fortress's inevitable flop.
Since the game launched, Pei Qian had gone completely dark to focus on studying.
He deliberately vanished—he didn't want to be pestered by Huang Sibo if the game's data was tanking, asking for help with promotions.
Before going into hiding, he had instructed Assistant Xin:
"If anyone comes asking, tell them I'm busy. No matter who it is, tell them I'm not available!"
For a whole week, he held out.
He didn't even check the backend data once.
Surely… surely by now, the game had completely flopped, right?
After all, Pei Qian controlled all of Tengda's finances, and he'd almost completely burned through the budget.
He hadn't planned to spend a single cent on marketing.
Even if someone wanted to promote Ocean Fortress, there were no resources to do so!
Last time, Ghost General blew up because Pei Qian was unlucky enough to bump into that genius illustrator, Ruan Guangjian.
But that was a fluke!
How often do you randomly run into top-tier talent with industry connections?
This time? Ocean Fortress had no such artist.
And let's be real—the game's mechanics were the opposite of what Counter-Terrorism Plan players were used to.
It had that absurd 888 RMB gun…
With all these layers of insurance, there was no way this game would succeed!
Pei Qian had deliberately stayed away this long to avoid a potential disaster, which is him accidentally laughing out loud while everyone in the company was mourning a failed game.
Now that Ocean Fortress had almost certainly flopped, as the boss, Pei Qian needed to make a symbolic appearance.
He'd gently console his employees, express sincere regret over the game's failure, and encourage them not to lose heart—reminding them to shift focus toward the company's next phase.
Thanks to the residual income from Ghost General, the company would be able to run for a little while longer.
Pei Qian could then happily collect his 500,000 RMB "failure bonus" from the system, and prepare to lose even more money with the next round of funding.
Perfect. Truly perfect.
Arriving at the lobby of the Shenhua Grand View Building, Pei Qian rubbed his cheeks to push down the involuntary smile creeping up.
Then he tilted his head 45 degrees upward, gazing at the sky with a melancholy "river-of-tears" expression and locked it onto his face.
He pulled out his phone, checked his reflection.
Yup. That's an Oscar-worthy grief face.
Time to go.
He stepped into the elevator and ascended to the company floor.
The moment he stepped into the office, Pei Qian immediately noticed something was… off.
Huang Sibo was slumped in his chair, staring blankly at his monitor and refreshing the backend data over and over again.
Xiao Lu looked anxious—legs bouncing, scratching his head like he had a serious case of ADHD.
Even Bao Xu wasn't gaming. He stood by the window, staring at the potted plants and the view outside like a man contemplating his existence.
Seeing all this, Pei Qian's heart gave a small twinge of guilt.
Had he gone too far…?
Sure, they were a team of slackers, and none of them were really capable of producing a "proper" game.
They'd spent most of the past month dining out and vacationing rather than developing.
But still, everyone had clearly invested some emotion into Ocean Fortress.
And now that it had flopped so hard it was being ignored by the market, it made sense that morale was crushed.
Huang Sibo was probably too stunned by the dismal data to believe it.
Xiao Lu probably had no idea how to handle the situation.
And Bao Xu? Most likely spiraling into existential despair.
Pei Qian sighed softly.
This… is my responsibility.
Now was the time for him to step up as the boss and provide emotional support. After all, this failure was 90% his fault.
He quickly rehearsed what he should say.
But before he could speak, the two twin receptionists at the front desk spotted him—
"President Pei is here!"
Suddenly, applause erupted.
The entire office burst into cheers.
Pei Qian nearly dropped his phone from shock.
What the hell is happening?!
He scanned the room.
Everyone's face was glowing with genuine, heartfelt joy.
This wasn't the forced smile of employees pretending to save face—this was the real deal.
Something was very, very wrong.
Huang Sibo jumped up and rushed over.
He bowed deeply.
"President Pei! I've learned so much!"
"I used to question why you didn't approve any marketing for Ocean Fortress. I even doubted your decision-making."
"But now I understand!"
"You wanted to prove that a good game doesn't need promotion! That it can rise above fierce competition on its own with just word-of-mouth!"
"Your confidence is truly admirable, President Pei!"
Pei Qian's heart dropped into a freezing abyss.
He nearly burst into tears on the spot.
He could feel his facial muscles twitching uncontrollably as he tried to maintain a solemn expression.
"Our game… went viral?" Pei Qian asked, voice trembling.
Huang Sibo nodded vigorously.
"It did!"
"I've been refreshing the backend data non-stop. I couldn't believe my own eyes!"
"Even without a single penny spent on advertising, our heat level, active player count, and revenue have completely crushed Bullet Hole!!"
<+>
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