Everything was moving at a breakneck pace!

With the promotional trailer drop just around the corner, both XunTeng and YiYou were gearing up for battle, making their strategic deployments.

XunTeng made the first move.

Their vanguard on Day One would be Tianlang.

As their core title, it was only natural to lead with it and establish their presence right from the start.

Day Two? That would be Guangyao.

As their flagship next-gen multiplayer FPS, Guangyao had its sights set on the battle royale market—specifically PUBG—aiming to carve out a huge piece of the pie.

And Day Three was reserved for none other than Zhenting Studio.

Zhenting’s offering was a futuristic sci-fi single-player shooter, also designed using the second-generation FPS framework—story-driven with optional multiplayer modes.

Soon enough, word reached Yan Sheng.

Not a difficult thing, really.

Everyone in the industry knew the game—these were all old foxes. Each side had moles in the other camp.

Besides, XunTeng didn’t bother keeping this lineup under wraps.

After all, all three of their games were shooters, and their release order wasn’t crucial.

This time, Polar Bear 3rd Gen was out to capitalize on YiYou’s weakness in the FPS category—snatching up a fat chunk of the motion pod shooter market.

At first glance, it looked like they were trading shooters for sports and racing—two for one.

But in truth? They weren’t losing anything—in fact, they were slightly ahead.

That’s because, in the current gaming market, the share held by shooters in the motion pod sector far exceeded that of sports or racing games—possibly even equal to both combined.

Upon receiving the info, Yan Sheng immediately convened a high-level meeting to counter XunTeng’s lineup.

After discussion and a vote among the executives, YiYou’s deployment strategy was finalized:

Round One: Fury Flame Games takes the field with their flagship racing title, aiming for rock-solid quality to claim the racing market.

Round Two: The Neon Kol Game Company enters with a soccer game—an international collaboration to bolster YiYou x2’s offering.

And the final act?

Naturally, that was Golden Wind.

If this were a theatrical performance, Golden Wind’s slot would be known as the “Grand Finale”—the most important moment of the show.

Unfortunately, this wasn’t theater.

To seize the market early, the earlier a game was released, the more critical it became.

Though this outcome was no surprise, once both teams had their battle lines drawn, the media couldn’t help but buzz with speculation—

“By placing Golden Wind at the end, YiYou’s message couldn’t be clearer—”

“Dead last! Without a doubt, Golden Wind’s biggest contribution to this showcase is simply to make up the numbers…”

“YiYou’s attempt to save face in the FPS genre? Not even close—Golden Wind doesn’t even qualify as a fig leaf.”

“From breakout hit Cat Mario to now—has Golden Wind’s fall from grace begun?”

“A doomed theme and unmatched scale—what’s the point of Golden Wind’s participation this time?”

“MFGA is about to become history. The originator of 2nd-gen FPS is about to fall from the throne…”

“…”

Speculation was everywhere.

To be fair, some media outlets were offering objective predictions about Golden Wind’s chances in the promotional battle.

But most had clearly picked sides—XunTeng’s side—and were going all in on attacking Golden Wind.

And seeing their own flagship game being dogpiled? YiYou wasn’t going to just sit back.

In retaliation, they hired their own wave of internet trolls to strike back.

They blasted Tianlang for being stiff and outdated,

Flamed Guangyao for shameless copying and bullying smaller studios,

And shaded Zhenting for being ungrateful and increasingly formulaic.

The truth is, business warfare isn’t nearly as glamorous as it’s portrayed in movies.

Hiring trolls to manipulate public opinion, sending headhunters to poach talent, even cutting your competitor’s cables or unplugging their server rooms, watering their office plants with boiling water, or sneaking their lucky office fish into a spicy hotpot—

Forget the elaborate schemes.

Nothing hits harder than pulling the main power switch during their project launch.

The back-and-forth skirmishes between YiYou and XunTeng were loud, chaotic, and very real.

And with tensions sky-high, the first true clash between YiYou and XunTeng officially kicked off at the end of the month—

Round One!

Tianlang vs. Fury Flame.

Both were top-tier representatives of their sides.

Both brought solid, traditional entries.

Tianlang’s offering? Still a first-gen FPS.

But this time, they packed in more modes:

Gun Game (a hit at the Asian Games)

Infection Mode

And even a co-op PvE mode inspired by a Left 4 Dead mod made by the Ordinary Xiao Wang team.

Fury Flame? A full-fledged off-road rally racing game.

Career mode, quick play, multiplayer, unlockable tracks, car customization, championship cups…

Everything you’d expect from a racing game—and then some.

They even partnered with real auto manufacturers to include real-world models and parts, adding a layer of authenticity.

Day One—both sides split market buzz down the middle.

Expected. Acceptable for both.

But come Round Two, the tables turned.

And the one to blame?

Gu Sheng.

2nd-gen FPS meets battle royale—too damn strong!

Guangyao’s new game, Special Ops, mirrored PUBG almost exactly—

The only twist? Killings were framed as “training exercises.”

Bullets hit and green blood splashes.

Eliminations were labeled as “knockouts,” not “kills.”

Eliminated players even waved goodbye and neatly placed a box at their feet—like they were making their own urns.

Absurd? Yes.

But it completely bypassed PUBG’s 16+ age rating.

Perfect for all ages.

Faced with this kind of firepower, Kol Game Company stood no chance.

“Buzz ratio: 37 to 63. Golden Wind’s trailer is still rendering—not even submitted yet,”

Looking at the data summary in his hand, Yan Sheng’s brows furrowed:

“We’re under siege—inside and out. This isn’t looking good…”

The data, compiled by HuaYu Media, was highly authoritative—analyzed and consolidated using big data metrics.

The plummeting market buzz was putting intense pressure on Yan Sheng.

It was clear—

XunTeng had taken the upper hand.

In motion pod gaming, FPS clearly held more sway than sports titles.

Originally, YiYou had a shot at a last-minute comeback thanks to Zhenting, a veteran FPS developer.

But as fate would have it—

Not only did Zhenting fail to help, they had switched sides to XunTeng, becoming a top adversary.

Everyone knew—

When Yan Sheng said things “aren’t looking good,” he was understating it.

Barring a miracle like Zhenting suddenly switching back to YiYou’s camp, the outcome was already sealed.

A 26-point gap in buzz metrics?

No way to flip that.

The media was abuzz.

YiYou was cornered.

XunTeng was already deploying their next round of promo.

The entire gaming industry had written off Golden Wind’s chances tonight.

Everyone was convinced YiYou x2 would suffer a brutal loss in their first major clash.

Some media even went as far as to say:

“Some people die long before they’re buried—it’s just that their heart stops later.”

But just as the world was counting them out—

8 PM sharp!

Both trailers dropped at the same time.

[…]

“Thanks to the broke-a** who gifted me a plane…”

“Thanks to the crazy old lady who got a membership…”

“Thanks to the one who paid for me and Sister Zhou from North City…”

“Big thanks to all the bosses for the subs and gifts—mods, ban all those fools I just read off.”

SharkStream, streamer Dumb Chick’s channel.

Dumb Chick started off polite, then hit hard—classic bait-and-ban move, leaving her stream chat full of question marks.

The massive boom of PUBG had made a whole wave of streamers blow up, and Dumb Chick was one of them.

With her chaotic and absurd streaming style, she came across as loud, bold, and just a little deranged. But in just four months, she had gained over 30 million followers, becoming one of the top PUBG streamers, right behind Tuanzi.

From a total nobody to a millionaire anchor—

Sure, her own creativity and hard work were key,

But she was also extremely grateful to Golden Wind and PUBG.

If not for that game, she might have never had the chance to blow up at all.

So today, she didn’t open with her usual “let’s find some teammates and queue up.”

Instead, she opened YiYou Technology’s official website.

Today was the big day—

Golden Wind’s new game trailer reveal.

Ever since the Motion Pod War broke out, Dumb Chick had kept up with the news. She knew Golden Wind was the underdog—

Weak, with minimal dev budget and promotional resources, not even a tenth of their rivals’.

That’s why she wanted to use her influence to help out.

Give Golden Wind a little stage time.

“We’ll play in a bit. First, let’s check out Golden Wind’s new trailer. I’m actually kind of excited.”

Immediately, the chat blew up—

“Oh c’mon, Little Yellow already flopped this round.”

“Yeah, the mecha theme was a mistake from day one.”

“They’re clearly just filler, not taking it seriously.”

“Just doing the bare minimum to complete YiYou’s mission.”

“LMAO, someone knows what a ‘mission’ is.”

“Forget Golden Wind—check out Zhenting’s new game instead. It’s sci-fi!”

“True, Zhenting always brings the heat.”

“Let’s just watch Zhenting’s trailer first.”

“Yeah yeah, show us Zhenting already…”

Yikes…

Dumb Chick pulled a face at the screen.

She’d seen the comments before—everyone saying the mecha concept was a mistake.

But she hadn’t expected the negativity to be this overwhelming.

Thousands watching, and 90% were already writing off the game.

No one was bashing Gu Sheng or Golden Wind directly, since their past work was top-tier,

But no one had high hopes for this new title.

Now Dumb Chick was in a tough spot.

Honestly, she didn’t want to play Zhenting’s trailer.

She started this stream to support Golden Wind.

But the gap was too obvious—Zhenting had massive investment, good reputation, high anticipation.

If she went all-in on praising Golden Wind after that, it would just feel forced and awkward.

But!

With viewers now spamming “Let’s see Zhenting’s!”

She had no choice.

“Maybe… we don’t watch it? I’ll just find teammates and start playing?”

She was about to pull a full Captain Yin move—“if I die, we all die”—and just skip the trailers entirely.

But the chat wasn’t having it.

Colorful messages flooded in: “Unsubbing!”

Out of options, Dumb Chick sighed and opened XunTeng Tech’s official site, silently praying—

“Please, don’t let Zhenting’s game be too insane… and please, please, let Golden Wind’s trailer not be absolute trash…”

If there was even a sliver of an edge, she could spin it.

A half-decent excuse to hype up Golden Wind would be enough to repay PUBG for making her who she was today.

As the site loaded—

It was obvious: XunTeng was going all-in on Polar Bear 3rd Gen.

Flashy homepage, big banner, three featured support games.

Today’s spotlight? The FPS title from Zhenting Studio—Swarm 2100.

She clicked. The video went full screen.

Surround sound kicked in.

“I’ve asked myself many times… why did we come here…?”

“100… 300… 500… the list of the fallen grows every day…”

“But everyone knows…”

Bang bang!

Gunfire kicked in. The visuals changed.

Amid Mars-like red rock formations on an alien planet,

Swarms of alien beasts flooded the screen.

Soldiers in bulky exo-suits screamed commands and opened fire.

Tracer rounds lit up the screen as they held the line.

Energy blades, mech armor, all-terrain tanks, micro-nuke strikes.

The entire planet was at war.

Razor-jawed spiders, acid-spitting beetles, flying mantises with scythe-like arms—

Every enemy in this alien warzone was lethal.

Gunfire, screams, death, and explosions.

As the camera pulled back—

In the blackness of space, an enormous human fleet surged forward…

“We have no way back.”

The story wasn’t complicated:

In 2100, Earth’s resources had run dry. Humanity began its interstellar migration.

But the chosen planet was infested with deadly swarms.

So the player’s unit, a vanguard squad, had to find and destroy the alien hive core.

The twist? Two endings.

Exterminate the swarm and build a new home.

Realize you’re not heroes—you’re the invaders. A brutal tale of colonialism. The ending is open.

Woah——

As the trailer ended, the chat exploded—

“D*mn, those exo-suits are sick.”

“Nooo, I hate arthropods, I’m losing it.”

“Zhenting never misses. Even the trailer gives me chills.”

“This looks so dope!”

“Calling it now—Swarm 2100 wins it all. Wipes the floor with the other five.”

“Seconded. Your call is valid.”

“What is this—trailer Inception?”

“Insane trailer quality. What’s Little Yellow gonna fight this with?”

“That exo-suit alone solves all mech balance issues.”

“Auto-purchase!”

“Zhenting’s killing it…”

Dumb Chick’s heart dropped.

She had to admit—Zhenting, as one of China’s OG FPS studios, was truly a beast.

Top-tier visuals, compelling plot.

The storyline wasn’t just great—it stood in a league of its own.

There was no way Golden Wind could match that.

Now, she just hoped…

Golden Wind wouldn’t flop too hard.

As the buzz over Zhenting’s trailer slowly died down, chat turned its gaze—

“Alright, let’s see Little Yellow’s—what’s Sheng-ge been cooking?”

“Honestly, now I’m even more curious about Golden Wind’s trailer.”

“Just wanna compare the gap.”

“You mean for laughs?”

“Nah nah, seeing the gap helps us improve, right?”

“Big respect to Golden Wind for having the guts. Just don’t flame them too hard, people.”

“For real—at least show some love for PUBG.”

“…”

The crowd was joking, half playful, half curious.

But they were all eager to see what Golden Wind had brought to the table.

“Alright, alright,”

Facing the pressure, Dumb Chick forced a grin and pulled up YiYou’s platform homepage:

“But let’s be clear—watch all you want, discuss whatever, but don’t get sarcastic or start flaming. If you do, I’ll ban on sight.”

As she spoke, she opened the site.

Right at the top, a massive banner filled the screen.

In the glow of a setting sun, a towering mech—over two people tall—stood holding a heavy rifle.

Solid. Weighty. Reliable. Like a fortress.

Its azure optical system scanned the horizon.

In front of it stood a fully-armored soldier, helmet visor glowing the same bright blue—

Their gazes aligned. Both stared into the distance.

In that instant—

Everyone in the stream paused.

The blood-red sunset, the ink-dark shadows.

Cold steel mechs and the lone soldier atop a mountain, emanating power and intensity.

Though just a still image, the shared glow in their eyes made one thing clear—

Their bond ran deeper than any typical mech game.

They weren’t just pilot and machine.

They were partners.

You are the firepower I lack.

I am the strategy you need.

And the story I’m about to tell…

Is our story.

Its name—

Titanfall.

Source: Webnovel.com, updated by lotustale.com