Chapter 610: The Effect of the Intelligence-Reducing Aura Is Remarkable
After the interview ended, Han Lu was completely bewildered as she bid farewell to Chen Mo.
Clearly, the game hadn’t even started development yet, and Chen Mo didn’t want to reveal too much of his thoughts, so a lot of the content was vague and ambiguous.
This made it extremely difficult for Han Lu to understand, to the point where she couldn’t even imagine what kind of game this was supposed to be...
However, Han Lu wasn’t one to be easily defeated. She had encountered this situation many times before, and the solution was simple: whatever Chen Mo said, she would just write it down!
She would just faithfully record Chen Mo’s exact words. Even if the players were misled, it would be Chen Mo doing the misleading...
The top priority was to quickly release the news about Chen Mo’s new game and snag a headline for Sky Network’s gaming channel.
...
As for Chen Mo, he didn’t pay much attention to this little episode and went straight to find Qiao Hua.
After all, whether it was fooling reporters or fooling players, he was already well-versed in it. In fact, it had become second nature to him—mixing truth with falsehoods and letting the players guess for themselves, which only generated more buzz for the game.
Chen Mo was now an S-class designer, and many people in the Game Committee recognized him. As he walked through the halls, many greeted him.
When he arrived at Qiao Hua’s office, Qiao Hua was still busy.
As the year drew to a close, most designers had relatively lighter workloads. Except for a few who were rushing to meet deadlines, everyone else was essentially half-slacking off.
But for departments like the Game Committee, the end of the year meant heavier tasks. Various year-end summaries and reports had to be prepared in advance. It was clear that Qiao Hua was also being run ragged.
“Chen Mo, you’re here. Have a seat.” Qiao Hua pointed to the sofa across from his desk. “What kind of hard-to-approve game is it this time?”
Chen Mo chuckled. “Minister Qiao, you’re truly prescient.”
Qiao Hua smiled. “Don’t I know you? Would you come to the Game Committee for anything else?”
Chen Mo handed over the documents. “Here’s the design draft for the new game. Take a look.”
Qiao Hua took the documents and, as he read, his brow furrowed. “Prototype?”
From the title alone, he sensed something ominous...
He quickly skimmed through the entire design draft, then said with some difficulty, “Chen Mo, you’re really pushing it this time...”
Chen Mo pretended not to understand. “Huh?”
Qiao Hua looked pained. “Last time, *Outlast* was already pushing the limits. It only got approved because the Chairman personally gave the green light. And now you’re bringing something even more extreme?”
“More gore and violence? More corpses and grotesque monsters? And on top of that, the protagonist is no longer a helpless ordinary person but someone who can go on a rampage through the city?”
“And this is a VR game! If you’re using the Pangu Engine, the level of realism is going to be way too high, isn’t it?”
Chen Mo grinned slyly. “If it were an easy game to get approved, I wouldn’t have come to you. Besides, compared to *Outlast*, this game isn’t that much more outrageous. It doesn’t even need to monitor players’ physiological indicators because they won’t be scared.”
Qiao Hua waved his hand helplessly. “Fine, just go straight to Chairman Zhang. If he gives the go-ahead, that’s all that matters...”
It was the same old script.
Qiao Hua knew that whether this game could pass approval wasn’t up to him. It all depended on Zhang Zhongxiang’s decision, so he didn’t bother worrying about it and just let Chen Mo handle it.
After all, with *Outlast* having been approved, the chances for *Prototype* to pass were actually pretty high...
Half an hour later, Qiao Hua led Chen Mo to the door of Zhang Zhongxiang’s office.
Zhang Zhongxiang had already finished reading Chen Mo’s design concept draft. When he saw Chen Mo arrive, he gestured for him to sit on the sofa.
“Chen Mo, this new game of yours... seems even more extreme than *Outlast*. The main issue is that *Outlast*’s core theme was exposing the evil deeds of big corporations and the false, rosy picture of foreign countries. But what about *Prototype*?”
Chen Mo fiddled with his wristband as he spoke. “*Prototype* has that too. Take a closer look?”
“Oh? Really?” Zhang Zhongxiang read through it again from the beginning.
Chen Mo explained, “Chairman, let me explain. First, this game’s target for exposure is still big corporations. These corporations conduct terrifying virus experiments, completely disregarding the safety of ordinary people, and even try to solve problems by dropping nuclear bombs. This is a blatant trampling of freedom and human rights!”
“Second, unlike *Outlast*, the protagonist of *Prototype* has overwhelming power. On one side, there’s the evil virus entity; on the other, there’s Gentec, a company that treats human life as nothing. The protagonist is no longer human, but at the end of the game, he risks his life to transport the nuclear bomb away to save the entire city. This better highlights the protagonist’s spirit of sacrifice.”
Zhang Zhongxiang blinked, deep in thought.
Chen Mo continued, “The game also includes many details that reveal human nature. For example, a conversation between a Blackwatch soldier and his commander: ‘Sir, why are we cooperating with these useless Marine Corps?’ The commander replies, ‘We need them to face the public. If New York turns into a wasteland, they’ll take the blame.’ This is a ruthless exposure of human nature.”
“As for the gore and violence in the game... it’s really on the same level as *Outlast*. Since *Outlast* was approved, this game should be about the same, right?”
Zhang Zhongxiang frowned slightly, rubbing his chin as he pondered.
It... kind of made sense.
Zhang Zhongxiang found himself wavering. Chen Mo had once again cleverly set the story in a foreign country. Criticizing foreign corporations and militaries wasn’t really a big deal...
As for the gore and violence, it was true that the level of bloodshed in this game was roughly on par with *Outlast*. With the rating system in place, it wasn’t a problem for adults to play such content.
Moreover, one advantage this game had over *Outlast* was that it posed virtually no safety risks. Players wouldn’t be scared. At worst, the overly realistic graphics might trigger violent tendencies in some players, but... they were adults. Exposure to some gore and violence wasn’t a big deal.
After all, there were countless violent movies and books released every year around the world, and no one had ever heard of someone becoming a psychopathic killer because of a game.
Chen Mo had also written in the design concept draft that he would use certain methods to weaken the sense of realism, helping players distinguish between the game and reality as much as possible.
Zhang Zhongxiang nodded. “Alright, this game is tentatively approved. However, you must keep an eye on whether it affects players’ mental health, especially ensuring it doesn’t foster antisocial or misanthropic tendencies. Understood?”
Chen Mo nodded. “Rest assured, Chairman. It absolutely won’t.”