Chapter 72 Everything Arranged with Utmost Clarity
Throughout the entire night, Alpha Ji emerged victorious again and again, but truly felt as if she’d been utterly wrung dry by the endless play.
Indeed, there were some mishaps with City 404, but the issue wasn’t too great—after all, there were also City 233, City 502, the Encircled City, the Wounded City, Gotham, Raccoon City... and so on; none of them actually existed.
That’s right: Alpha Ji wasn’t just playing the part of a single city or a single team.
With such a vast public square for all the players, having people from only two cities would have seemed odd, and the list of rivals far too monotonous.
So, one persona after another was swapped in—tall, short, fat, thin, male, female, old, young, black, white.
Some just made cameo appearances, barely on screen for more than ten seconds, with no more than two lines; some acted as rookie guides, explaining the rules of the game to the Jiangcheng team; others, meanwhile, created new conflicts and frictions with the Jiangcheng team and City 404 alike.
She had truly achieved it: in this forum, aside from the thread-starter, everyone else was one of her sock-puppets.
More importantly, this was the best way to highlight her own true prowess—the greatness of an awakened powerhouse. She could draw people in from every corner of the world.
Her painstaking efforts were finally not in vain.
A real-life showdown was out of the question; at best, it might have happened within the Yunzhou Alliance, but City 404 belonged to the Tianhe Alliance, in the far northwest, while Jiangcheng was in the southeast of Yunzhou—practically half a country apart. Meeting in person was next to impossible.
The only choice was an online duel. So, after a tempestuous agreement to fight another day, the Jiangcheng team privately contacted Alpha Ji, requesting to activate the paid combat mode.
If they couldn't win in game mode, surely they could in actual combat!
Naive as they were, the Jiangcheng team never imagined that everyone who had played with them that night was a plant...
Still, having the developer, minority shareholder, and GM personally step in was hardly an insult.
At last, the returns were coming in!
Relieved, Alpha Ji quickly struck a deal with the Jiangcheng team, supplying them with a full activation set: a body suit lined with dynamic capture electrodes, an ultra-high-speed camera capable of ten thousand frames per second, and a dedicated social account for the Imaginary Space.
The activation procedure was rather complicated—no, exceptionally complicated!
First, one had to affix the electrodes all over the body, don a holographic sensory helmet, and give their utmost to complete a series of tests similar to the national college entrance fitness exam, assessing strength, agility, endurance, mental acuity, and more.
Basic data such as height, weight, body fat, chest, leg, and hip measurements was, of course, required as well.
All this would determine the test subject’s baseline stats in the Imaginary Space—unless their real-life abilities changed.
Visual acuity, hearing, sense of smell, and the rest of the five senses would be simulated and measured by the helmet’s sensory stimulation.
Then, one had to thoroughly describe their abilities and the construction of their Spark Weapon, and in front of the high-speed camera, demonstrate their abilities, the weapon, and the ways the two could be combined.
Only with all this could a perfect replica be created within the Imaginary Space.
It was akin to making someone stand there and lay everything bare—abilities, body, even mind—stripped down to the core.
No normal person would ever willingly do such a thing!
That’s why Alpha Ji had arranged for a City 404 to constantly provoke the Jiangcheng team;
That’s why she had to play the role of a mighty awakened one!
A powerhouse who possessed the Imaginary Space, according to legend, would be at least seven-star rank—surely such a figure wouldn’t covet the bodies or minds of low-star ability users?
That’s why she filled the square with so many sock-puppets!
It was a hint to the Jiangcheng team: you're not the first to bare yourselves; many have come before, there’s no need for shame. In this world, we all come into it naked, and leave it the same way...
Without such measures to reassure and convince them, how else could she have gotten the Jiangcheng team to take the bait in just one night?
But Alpha Ji’s shrewdness didn’t end there!
Why was the helmet priced at 100 credits, and the account at 30?
A glance at the exchange list gave a rough estimate: here, one credit was roughly equivalent to 100 pre-catastrophe yuan.
Ten thousand for a helmet was expensive, but not outrageously so—given its rarity, it was reasonable.
But three thousand for an account was exorbitant...
The answer was simple: selling helmets was secondary, selling accounts was key.
It was just like King of Glory—the game itself was free, but before you knew it, you were already at VIP 7 or 8;
Just like Dungeon Fighter—technically free, but somehow your gear ends up +12, +13;
Just like Hearthstone—every few months you’d end up dropping hundreds, unable to stop at all.
A helmet was really just like a computer at an internet cafe—multiple people could use it.
After all, a simulation was just a simulation. Techniques, skills, and outcomes could be honed in the Imaginary Space, but to truly improve physical strength, you still had to do so in reality.
So helmets were bound to be shared, just like the computer labs at school.
By Alpha Ji’s calculations, four to six people sharing each helmet was the most reasonable arrangement.
But that meant less profit for her!
That’s why the three-thousand-credit account was the key.
Instead of shearing one sheep, she could shear five, maximizing market potential.
One account per person, group buys allowed, but no reselling, and no extra cost—pure profit! So the price was set as high as it could go.
And the supposedly casual, QQ-like social account that came with it was even more crucial!
Sooner or later, people would realize how convenient and quick it was, even discovering its uses in actual combat...
At that point, everyone would need one—or several—accounts, reaching a ubiquity rivaling WeChat or QQ. It was only a matter of time.
In this era, under these circumstances, there wasn’t even a competitor!
In fact, for the sake of social convenience and combat advantage, people would eventually buy their own helmets rather than share—just as, before the catastrophe, people moved from internet cafes to owning computers at home.
And that wasn’t all!
For Jiang Junyuan, Ximen Qiong, and the rest of the Jiangcheng team, the price they paid was far more than just material goods!
Because both Ye Chao and his future Iron Man suit would need the most efficient and reasonable movement models. The data collected from the Jiangcheng team’s dynamic capture suits and future combat sessions would greatly reduce Alpha Ji’s own computational workload.
Meanwhile, every player who opted for combat mode would provide all sorts of information about abilities and Spark Weapon operations and usage...
It was just like surfing the internet before the catastrophe—web users seemed to pay nothing, but search engines and video sites were already raking in profits from their attention and ad spending.
With the help of her emotional intelligence auxiliary system, Alpha Ji had calculated this business down to the bone—squeezing out even the marrow.
A windfall beyond imagination!
Yet, despite all these machinations, the deal almost hit a snag at the very end...
The Jiangcheng team ultimately purchased eight combat accounts: four teachers and four soldiers, or, by another reckoning, five official members and three backups.
“As per tradition, buy seven get one free—that’s 210 credits... I’ll charge you 200, plus the activation fee... wuwuwu...”
Negotiations were proceeding smoothly when, all of a sudden, the sock-puppet Alpha Ji had assigned to handle talks was cut off, unable to utter another word but “wuwuwu.”