“What?! That person developed this cursed game?” Dai Minghan was also incredulous. “Why would he do that?”
“To be precise, this game wasn’t originally created as a curse. It was the life’s work of a man named Yin Xiong!”
“This story goes back over a decade. It must be said that Yin Xiong was indeed a designer with a forward-thinking vision. More than ten years ago, with the goal of enabling real-time communication anytime, anywhere, he conceived of developing a game for mobile devices.”
“However, back then, phones weren’t smartphones. The difficulty of developing a game for mobile devices was unimaginable. Yet, Yin Xiong’s ingenious ideas somehow won the support of the company’s top brass, who invested substantial resources into research and development.”
“Carrying the entire company’s survival on his shoulders, he staked everything on creating a game ahead of its time. The pressure on Yin Xiong at that point was immense. The anxiety from this pressure left him no time to think about his wife and child. He almost completely shut himself off in the world of the game, working day and night on various experiments.”
No wonder there were so many lonely scenes in that picture book. Through those images, Chen Mo could almost feel the little girl’s solitude and isolation.
“Daddy, can you stay with me?”
“Daddy, when will you come home?”
In that cursed game, these scenes were also recreated—undoubtedly, they were hints for the participants.
“Because he poured his entire being into developing the game, he neglected his family’s feelings. During that time, family relations hit rock bottom.”
“After exhausting endless effort, it seemed Lady Luck still favored him. The development team finally broke through the bottleneck and designed a groundbreaking multiplayer game that could run on phones under the conditions of that era. At that moment, Yin Xiong’s excitement was beyond words. The first thing he wanted to do was, of course, report the success to the company’s top brass and then claim the generous reward promised in the contract!”
“Moreover, he immediately shared this thrilling news with his family, promising to take his wife and child on a trip abroad as compensation for his neglect.”
“At this point, everything seemed to be heading toward happiness. But Yin Xiong was just a developer who only knew how to bury himself in game research. He had no idea that another conspiracy driven by greed was unfolding around him.”
“According to the signed contract, the company was first supposed to pay Yin Xiong a staggering sum of money. And in future operations, they would undoubtedly be constrained by him!”
“According to Zhang Yiming, Yin Xiong also had some personality flaws—like being stubborn and lacking worldly wisdom. In short, the company’s top brass didn’t want to entrust a game that was clearly destined for massive success to someone like him.”
“Wait.” Hearing this, Chen Mo suddenly interrupted Lin Tianheng. “What exactly is the relationship between this Zhang Yiming and Yin Xiong?”
“Partners.”
“The two of them were originally work partners developing this cursed game together. However, all development matters revolved around Yin Xiong as the core, which likely bred resentment in Zhang Yiming.”
“Later, perhaps due to Zhang Yiming’s instigation or simply human greed, Company N decided not to pay Yin Xiong that staggering sum of money as per the contract.”
“Not only that, but through Zhang Yiming, after copying the game’s source code, they tampered with Yin Xiong’s work computer, making the game impossible to demonstrate successfully. They then claimed he hadn’t actually developed the game!”
“For Yin Xiong, it never crossed his mind that his own partner had framed him. In the end, the company publicly announced that after wasting vast financial resources, the year-long development had failed. Meanwhile, as the project lead, Yin Xiong was fired amid a storm of criticism, without even receiving a meager severance package.”
“For someone who had devoted himself entirely to his work and poured out endless effort, this blow was like a thunderbolt from a clear sky. Yet he couldn’t understand why it had all happened—why the game had ultimately ended in failure.”
“So Zhang Yiming’s resignation wasn’t due to some ghost program at all. It was because he framed his partner, took the company’s hush money, changed his identity, and started his own venture!”
Hearing this, Chen Mo and Dai Minghan suddenly understood. No wonder Zhang Yiming had hidden the truth to mislead them. If his past of framing his partner and stealing their work were exposed, he would face not only career-destroying consequences but also legal punishment.
“After Yin Xiong was driven out, things seemed to calm down on the surface. Of course, Company N’s top brass weren’t fools. They didn’t release the game immediately. They waited three years until smartphones with higher processing power hit the market, then adjusted and launched the game. As expected, as soon as it was publicly released and tested, it attracted massive attention!”
“For three years, Yin Xiong never worked at any other company. Though it’s unclear how he spent those years, when Company N’s new game was released, he suddenly woke up to the truth: his life’s work, his dreams and hopes, had been ruthlessly stolen through a simple, despicable scheme!”
“Enraged, Yin Xiong took the most direct approach—confronting them. But three years had given them enough time to erase all traces of him from the game. After another failed struggle, he was once again thrown out.”
“By then, his heart was filled with extreme anger and utter despair.”
“But that wasn’t the last straw.”
“Later, we learned that Yin Xiong’s wife, unable to bear everything, had divorced him three years earlier. Under his insistence, custody of their daughter was granted to him. It was at this time that she suddenly developed a high fever and was diagnosed with leukemia.”
“What did you say?”
Chen Mo and Dai Minghan were both shocked. They hadn’t imagined that so much misfortune had befallen this man.
“His daughter’s serious illness ultimately plunged him into the abyss of despair!”
7