Chapter 65: The Three Moves of Card Games
Chen Mo chuckled: "Yeah, that's right, you've got to at least do the first ten-pull before leaving."
Jia Peng opened the shop, placed his finger on the ten-pull button, and felt a bit nervous.
As someone with notoriously bad luck, Jia Peng was always worried about this kind of lottery mechanic. Every time probability came into play, he felt incredibly anxious.
"I'm pulling!"
Jia Peng gritted his teeth and pressed the ten-pull button.
Chen Mo smirked inwardly. No wonder you're an unlucky dog. Before pulling cards, you didn't even fast and bathe, let alone wash your face or hands. Clearly, your heart isn't sincere.
Shua shua shua...
Ten cards appeared on the screen, flipping over one by one. Jia Peng licked his lips, staring intently at the borders of these cards.
"God bless me, give me a purple card..."
Blue card, blue card, blue card, fragment...
Jia Peng's heart sank, feeling like he might quit the game any second. But then the second-to-last card flipped over—a purple Brick Uncle!
"Ah! A purple card! I actually got a purple card!"
Jia Peng was almost crying tears of joy. As an unlucky dog, for the first time, his luck stood on equal footing with Wen Lingwei's.
"Who is it?" Chang Xiuya and Wen Lingwei both crowded over.
Jia Peng said, "Brick, that human square-headed mage."
Wen Lingwei said, "Tsk, not bad. You actually managed to pull a purple card?"
"Hehe, even I have to get a change of luck sometime!"
Jia Peng happily opened Brick Uncle's card details to check his skills.
"Blizzard? That looks awesome. I need to level him up."
Jia Peng had a bunch of useless monster cards in his bag, so he fed them all to Brick for upgrades, stopping only when he reached purple+.
"Mm, to advance further I need another Brick Uncle card. Forget it, this is fine for now."
Jia Peng happily admired his new card, adjusted his lineup, and eagerly challenged the next stage.
The others had also saved up enough runestones and started doing their ten-pulls.
"Mine is a purple A Mu Ti... uh, seems kinda useless?"
"Purple Dai Zei, feels decent. I can try a one-shot kill build."
"Should I just focus on stacking stats on the purple card early on? I'll prioritize leveling it."
Everyone pulled a purple card and happily swapped it into their lineup.
Chen Mo smiled but said nothing.
In reality, this was all pre-set. The first ten-pull was guaranteed to give a decent purple protagonist card. There was no difference between an unlucky dog and a lucky one.
However, subsequent ten-pulls would have some probability fluctuations. Although there was a guaranteed purple card, there was a chance of pulling monster purple cards like Ambassador, Death Knight Rivendare, or Town Chief, which weren't worth much investment.
If you accumulated a certain number of ten-pulls, you'd also be guaranteed some rare cards, like Cannon Sister or Wild Virtue's New Support.
This was all a trick.
If players couldn't get a good card on their first ten-pull, there was a high chance they'd churn. So adjustments had to be made: raising the overall drop rate for ten-pulls and ensuring a guaranteed protagonist purple card drop pack.
For later ten-pulls, the rate at which players earned runestones would slow down, and good cards had to retain their value, so the probability returned to normal. If players wanted more good cards, they had to spend money.
For big spenders, some guarantees had to be set so their money was generally worth it, preventing dissatisfaction among unlucky whales.
This was basically an unspoken rule of domestic card mobile games. Of course, there were exceptions that didn't follow this, like *Onmyoji*.
*Onmyoji* was suspected of having no guarantee measures at all. Whether you could pull an SSR was entirely up to luck, which led to phenomena like selling starter accounts early in the game, causing a series of issues.
Of course, *Onmyoji*'s quality was so high that it could afford to be this reckless. Chen Mo's current 3D art level was far from *Onmyoji*'s, so he didn't dare be so reckless with a card game like *I'm MT*.
Jia Peng had already added Brick Uncle to his lineup.
The mobs in the dungeons had no chance to fight back. Brick Uncle raised his hand and unleashed a Blizzard, wiping out almost all the mobs instantly. Even when facing a boss, the other cards could each take a shot and finish it off, allowing the dungeon progress to advance quickly.
"So satisfying!"
Jia Peng cleared chapter after chapter, collecting rewards each time—stage chests, quest rewards, and achievement bonuses. When he couldn't push further, he used the rewards to level up his cards, advanced a few, and then continued to tackle new stages...
"Uh, looks like I can level up again, but I don't have enough monster cards. Forget it, I'll clear one more chapter..."
Jia Peng clicked on the next chapter.
Chen Mo watched everyone's reactions.
Su Jinyu was frowning, looking reluctant, but she kept playing anyway.
Jia Peng was a bit addicted, burying his head in the game seriously.
Wen Lingwei wasn't pushing through stages; instead, she was browsing the card gallery, clearly thinking about lineup combinations.
So far, the three classic moves of domestic card games were working pretty well.
The IP attracted players into the game.
High-level card battles showcased card abilities.
Simple tutorials introduced the gameplay.
Multiple mechanics alleviated player fatigue.
Generous runestone rewards let players pull good cards.
Good cards crushed dungeons, giving players a sense of growth.
With this combination, within two hours, players were effectively hooked, gaining enough satisfaction and developing an attachment to their in-game virtual assets.
This satisfaction and attachment would drive players to log in again the next day, chasing even better cards.
The IP's most important impact on card games was in the first step: attracting players. The better the IP, the more players it attracted, and the more loyal they were, leading to a larger player base.
With a larger scale, profits naturally followed.
But did the IP determine whether a card game lived or died? Not necessarily.
Assuming similar player acquisition, metrics like day-one retention, long-term retention, and per-user revenue—which determined profitability—relied on the game's own quality. The IP's contribution was minimal.
Everyone said IP was important for card mobile games, but that was compared to other card mobile games. It meant having an IP made it easier to differentiate and stand out among a sea of card games.
What about comparing card mobile games to other general mobile games? Even without the IP, card games would still come out on top.
In the mid-to-late stages of a card game, it essentially became about auto-battling and completing tasks. The gameplay itself had little appeal to players, almost negligible. But the numerical stimulation, card drop probabilities, and virtual assets made players increasingly unable to let go, becoming even more addicted.
Numerical stimulation: New stages and rewards every day, protagonist cards could level up and advance again...
Card drop probabilities: Saved up enough for another ten-pull, this time I should get a good card...
Virtual assets: I've already spent hundreds on this game with a perfect lineup, and now you want me to quit?
At this stage, the IP's influence was minimal.
These three factors tightly bound players to the game, with recharge events constantly tempting them to spend money.
It was fine if they didn't spend—the goal was to keep them around. As long as they stayed in the game, there would always be a day they'd open their wallets.