Chapter 1169: Thunder Game Tester
In the imperial capital, at a certain internet cafe.
A disheveled young man walked out of the internet cafe, just in time to meet the rising morning sun.
He yawned, forcing himself to push through the exhaustion of an all-nighter as he prepared to head back. Right now, he desperately needed to get to the bed in his rented room and get a good night's sleep.
Suddenly, as if remembering something, he ran back into the internet cafe, found his computer, and grabbed the half-empty pack of cigarettes he’d left by the keyboard.
“Without smokes, my combat power’s cut in half.”
The young man walked out again.
This was an internet cafe where Matrix gaming pods and traditional computers each took up half the space—a rare sight in the imperial capital these days.
After all, with VR devices developing so rapidly over the years and prices dropping again and again, the market share of PC games had been squeezed repeatedly.
Many people said it wouldn’t be long before PCs became purely office equipment.
The walls of the internet cafe were plastered with posters. Although this relatively outdated form of advertising was nearly obsolete, it still lingered in some internet cafes.
Some more nostalgic players still really enjoyed this traditional promotional method.
“Join us, prepare for 8!”
“PUBG Global Invitational is about to kick off—come to Touch Fish Live and watch JadeMP Qin An ascend to the pinnacle of the gods!”
“Thunder Interactive’s new game is about to be released!”
“Oasis 2.0 version coming soon—more exciting content, only on the Matrix Gaming Platform!”
The young man came to this Zhiyuan Internet Cafe every day, so he’d seen these posters countless times.
Although PC games were steadily declining, and people kept saying League of Legends was about to die, strangely enough, the game always seemed to hang on somehow, and the viewership for the World Finals had only increased, not decreased.
Many players no longer played ranked or normal matches, only logging in during special events, but that didn’t dampen their enthusiasm for watching the tournaments.
And while PlayerUnknown’s Battlegrounds had seen a drop in popularity, its world championship was gradually getting on track. Tempered by the cheater-filled servers, domestic teams led by Qin An had performed exceptionally well in international tournaments, bringing back countless honors.
“Same inability to afford games—why is he so outstanding…”
The young man felt a bit helpless. Qin An’s story had already been hyped up by various gaming media outlets multiple times, with plenty of embellishments. Everyone knew that this world’s strongest PUBG player had emerged from some unknown internet cafe in the imperial capital. Back then, his spirit of living in a partitioned room, eating instant noodles, and still insisting on gaming had inspired countless internet-addicted youths, leading them down the irreversible path of esports.
But this young man couldn’t follow Qin An’s example, because he was even poorer than Qin An.
At least Qin An could afford a VR internet cafe; he could only play in the PC section…
All he could say was, such is life…
“Jiang Huan, here.”
Just as the young man was about to leave, the internet cafe owner, Zhuo Yao, who was tallying the accounts, casually handed him a flyer.
“Huh? What’s this?”
Jiang Huan reached out and took it. The flyer read: “Thunder Games Professional Playtester—Hot Recruitment Underway!”
Jiang Huan instinctively wanted to throw the flyer away. “Sister Zhuo Yao, don’t mess with me. Thunder Interactive is such a big company—why would they need to recruit via flyers…”
Zhuo Yao chuckled. “Why not? Our Zhiyuan Internet Cafe has a partnership with Thunder Interactive, so it’s no surprise we help promote it. Don’t you know me well enough by now? I wouldn’t mess with you. If you still don’t believe me, go check Thunder Interactive’s official website yourself—this recruitment plan is real.”
Jiang Huan suddenly remembered a rumor and asked quietly, “Sister Zhuo Yao, is it true that Chen Mo really came here to play games?”
Zhuo Yao perked up immediately. “What do you mean ‘is it true’? It is true! Would I bother lying to you? You only just came to the imperial capital this year, so you wouldn’t know. Back then, his experience store was just down that street. When it first opened, it was so quiet…”
Jiang Huan sensed trouble—once Zhuo Yao got started on this topic, she wouldn’t stop. He quickly said, “Alright, I get it, Sister Zhuo Yao. You keep working—I’m off!”
Leaving the internet cafe, Jiang Huan walked toward his rented room while reading the flyer’s contents.
“Professional game tester…”
“Must undergo a comprehensive physical exam, meet corresponding health standards, possess strong mental resilience and excellent reflexes…”
“Monthly salary: base pay of 12,000 per month… increased based on in-game performance… whew…”
Jiang Huan was immediately tempted.
Actually, Zhuo Yao had advised him many times to find a proper job first instead of spending all day in the internet cafe, relying on part-time earnings that couldn’t sustain him in the imperial capital.
Zhuo Yao also said that someone like Qin An was a special case. To break out from the cheater-filled servers, you first needed gaming talent that was one in ten thousand. It sounded inspiring, but in reality, it was toxic chicken soup.
No one knew how many internet-addicted youths had wasted their youth in internet cafes, only to end up in obscurity.
Jiang Huan knew that as an internet cafe owner, giving him such advice meant Zhuo Yao genuinely cared about him.
Jiang Huan was also torn, because he didn’t seem to have any exceptional gaming talent in PC games, nor did he have the eloquence of many streamers. Going down the streaming path would be tough too.
“If I could really become a game tester, that wouldn’t be bad,” Jiang Huan muttered to himself.
Jiang Huan had heard before that Thunder Games’ testers were completely different from testers at other companies.
Testers at other game companies were basically grunts, responsible only for finding bugs, loopholes, and design issues in the game. They had to play the game hundreds or thousands of times according to test cases, hunting down every minor problem.
They didn’t need high gaming talent—what mattered was being meticulous and reliable.
But Thunder Interactive’s games were different, because Chen Mo’s games never had bugs or design flaws.
Once a game was made, it basically didn’t need testing or modifications.
So what did Thunder Interactive’s recruited testers do?
They did real game testing—experiencing the game as hardcore players, offering opinions and suggestions, and testing whether the difficulty levels were reasonable.
In other words, Thunder Interactive’s testers were top-tier players. They directly determined a game’s upper limit. If even these testers found it hard, Chen Mo would lower the difficulty.
Moreover, these testers had even more prestigious tasks: playtesting high-immersion VR games and experiencing the cutting-edge technology of the Matrix gaming pods.
The development of next-generation VR technology was far from over. The Matrix gaming pod already allowed players to enter one crazy, bizarre game world after another for adventures, but the high level of immersion also posed risks to players.
This was essentially a form of experimentation, even a trial. These games couldn’t be released directly; they had to be tested by these testers first. Only after confirming there were no issues could they be added to Oasis.