Chapter 225: Chapter 196: Home Game Console and Major Launch Titles (Part 2)
Obviously, this was a classic case of shooting an arrow and then drawing the target around it.
The Red-and-White Machine was turned on, and a silhouette of a dragon’s head appeared on the Demon Vision screen.
Accompanied by a short, pleasant startup chime, the Magic Crystal Stone floated up, and the game ring levitated and spun around it.
It looked like an artistic centerpiece.
If anyone were to ask what purpose its levitation served...
If you had to give a reason, it improved heat dissipation by a few percentage points—even though the console never overheated in the first place.
Its main purpose was to make buyers see it and feel their money was well spent, that it was a truly high-end product.
Most people are suckers for good looks, even when shopping for products.
So this levitating Magic Crystal Stone was basically the equivalent of flashy light strips in a computer case.
The console’s exterior was designed by a rather unsuccessful comic artist. Zog was a strong advocate for people who had once dived headfirst into the comics field without ever making a name for themselves to change careers.
This was a prime example—creating a whole new career path for art students: product design.
Previously, no one ever considered the appearance of machinery, Magical Devices, or similar items. The prevailing philosophy was that functionality was all that mattered.
It’s not to say that the people who spent all day on research lacked a sense of aesthetics—aesthetics are subjective, after all. However, the subjective tastes of most of them were difficult for the general public to get behind.
The startup sequence ended, and the game’s main menu appeared directly.
You played whichever game corresponded to the ring you inserted, so there was no game selection menu.
On the Magic Vision Device’s screen was a large, red-and-blue title: Forest Ice and Fire People.
Followed by "Press any key to continue."
"How does this thing work?" asked Elsa, who had come to test out the console.
The development team was in unanimous agreement: if Elsa could figure out the console, then practically anyone could.
"Just, uh, press any button," Zog replied.
"I’ve never used a device like this. What is this thing called?" Elsa said.
This device looked different from the control setups in the arcades.
Those were placed on a flat surface, but this one was just held in two hands. It looked like your thumbs were in for a workout.
"It’s a game controller. Don’t worry, there’ll be a tutorial to teach you how to use it once the game starts."
"Controller? What a weird name."
Elsa tentatively pressed a random button. The controller immediately emitted the sound of moving mechanical parts.
It startled her so much she nearly threw it, worried it was about to explode or something.
"Don’t panic," Zog said. "It’s just the controller adjusting to fit your hands."
This controller was a masterpiece of ultimate Dwarf "black tech."
Aside from the button layout and main functions Zog had requested, everything else was a product of the Dwarves’ own ingenuity.
To ensure a single controller could be used by all races—accommodating vastly different hand sizes and finger lengths—the Dwarves had created this self-adjusting model.
It didn’t just change size; the position of each button could also shift within a certain range, guaranteeing a comfortable experience for any player.
Even more magically, the controller was wireless. A single console could connect up to eight controllers at once.
It even had motion controls.
None of Zog’s own games had motion control features; the software development simply hadn’t caught up with the hardware’s progress.
Despite all this complexity, it could still be mass-produced on an assembly line.
And for all these incredible features, Zog hadn’t spent a single Copper Coin.
He had simply posted a bounty in Furnace Castle: the Dwarf who created the best controller would receive all the new cosmetic skins for the next season of Auto Chess.
And so, the Dwarves competed fiercely and came up with this miraculous controller.
Incidentally, it wasn’t Bane Furnace who made it. Due to his passion for Auto Chess, the controller he designed was entirely focused on features for that game and was unfortunately rejected.
Goes to show he just doesn’t play enough games.
But it was understandable. Bane was an old man who could barely keep up with rerolling his shop in a game of chess; he could only handle strategy games and was hopeless at anything that required mechanical skill.
It was no exaggeration to say his skill in platformers and fighting games was on par with Elsa’s.
"What kind of game is this? And this is clearly a fire person and a Waterman, so why do you call it Ice and Fire People?"
Elsa made her little blue character run back and forth aimlessly.
"It’s a puzzle game. Don’t you think ’Ice and Fire People’ sounds more exciting?"
Zog picked up a controller as well.
"The gameplay is simple. Just get these two into the little doors at the top to clear the level."
"Ha, how hard could that be?" Elsa charged ahead.
「A few minutes later.」
"Don’t rush in! You can’t step in the lava!"
"But I did press jump! This controller must not be working right!"
"Stay on the switch! Don’t move! Wait for the platform to come up."
"I can’t make that jump?"
"You should... Ugh, forget it. Give me the controller."
Thanks to the "flawless teamwork" between the man and the Dragon, they managed to clear three consecutive levels.
"Ha! I’m unstoppable! I can’t believe there’s a game I can beat so quickly," Elsa said smugly when no new level appeared.
"Beat it? My ass. Those were just the three demo levels," Zog said, shattering her delusion.
"This is one of the candidates for the Red-and-White Machine’s launch lineup. We’ve made demos for several of them so you can try them out and tell me which one you like best, for our reference."
A major launch title, a flagship exclusive game, is the source of a console’s core competitive strength.
While the Red-and-White Machine didn’t need to compete with high-end external products, it did have to compete with their own in-house arcade machines.
This competition wasn’t about one winning and one losing. The best outcome was to create enough of a difference between them that the wealthy would simply buy both.
The arcade machines had distinct advantages: pure Illusion displays, high graphical fidelity, and no frame rate limit.
The Red-and-White Machine lacked these features.
Since the wealthy could also buy arcade machines for their homes, the Red-and-White Machine’s at-home advantage wasn’t very significant.
For that demographic, its lower price could even be considered a "drawback." Therefore, the only way forward was through exclusive games.
Specifically, exclusive party, co-op, and lighthearted games that would solve the pain point Stephen had identified.
Several cooperative games had been prepared for this purpose.
The best-case scenario, of course, was to play all their cards at once, right when the Red-and-White Machine launched.
But with too many projects in development simultaneously, they were facing a severe manpower shortage. The only option was to create a few demo levels for each candidate and then pick the most popular one to develop into a full game for the launch.
This task—choosing the favorite—couldn’t be left to the developers. It had to be the players’ choice.
For game developers, their tastes tend to become more niche the longer they work in the industry. They also become blind to many problems, especially in the games they’ve created themselves.
It was a classic case of not being able to see the forest for the trees.
To that end, they had found many players of varying skill levels to playtest. Elsa belonged to the most unskilled tier of casual players.
"So, what did you think of Forest Ice and Fire People?"
"It was okay, I guess," Elsa replied after a moment of thought. "But haven’t lots of Mages made puzzle games already? I don’t think it’ll be particularly popular."
She was a terrible player, but she had a point.
Zog, however, was quite fond of Ice and Fire People, perhaps due to childhood nostalgia. His own childhood memories involved playing it by himself, left hand on WASD and right hand on the arrow keys, a true testament to self-reliance.
’Hmph. If you’re good enough, you don’t need a partner. Clearing the levels by yourself is plenty of fun. I’m not the least bit envious of those other people...’
"Alright, let’s try the second one." Zog swapped out Ice and Fire People for a new game.
"Chaotic Kitchen? Is this a cooking game?" Elsa asked with a hint of disdain after seeing the title. "I’ve been cooking at home since I was six. You think cooking is going to be a challenge for me?"
Zog just smiled without saying a word.
The game Chaotic Kitchen appeared casual on the surface: you cooperate to process ingredients and prepare dishes according to orders.
However, as the orders piled up, the recipes grew more complex, and the time limits became excruciatingly tight. Anyone short of an expert would inevitably descend into a flustered panic.
The more you rushed, the more mistakes you made; the more mistakes you made, the more you rushed—a classic vicious cycle.
"Why are you running around with a plate?"
"Move! The pot’s on fire!"
"You just threw the soup in the trash!"
"Get out of my way!"
"The tomato’s on the floor!"
"That’s because you didn’t catch it!"
Despite the shouting, they finally cleared the level... and were rewarded with a single star.
Elsa stood to the side, grinding her teeth. "If I wasn’t sure I’d lose, I would absolutely smash your dragon head in!"
"But I can, in fact, dock your pay. Insult the boss, and your money’s gone."
"What? How did I insult you?"
"A verbal assault is still an assault."
"Argh—" Elsa seethed with impotent rage. "I’m done! Whoever wants to play your damn games can play them!"
"Don’t rush off. There’s one last one, and it’s guaranteed to be the most fun, the most party-like of all. But we’re still missing a few players. Where’s Doudou? We were supposed to meet up."