ATPnovel Chapter 427 Foreign monks are not good at chanting scriptures
Chapter 427 Foreign monks are not good at chanting scriptures
Products made by Rabbit are guaranteed to be of the highest quality.
This phrase wasn't used by Tutu Technology themselves; it was banned by players.
For a game company to be praised like this by players carries more weight than any award.
While looking at this evaluation, Lu Ran was thinking about something else entirely.
Minecraft has such a wide appeal that it attracts both men and women, from elementary school students to university students to working professionals; almost every young person can find enjoyment in this game.
If this wave can retain all the players, and if CrossFire maintains its momentum next month, then by the second half of the year, Tutu Technology will truly be among the top tier of Chinese games.
Being in the first tier means being on par with those established game companies.
Tutu Technology has been established for less than a year.
Lu Ran turned off the data report, leaned back in his chair, and stared out the window for a while.
The sycamore trees outside the window rustled in the wind, their newly sprouted leaves a tender green that was a sight to behold and lifted one's spirits.
My phone vibrated; it was a message from Shen Yuege: "I heard your new game is a hit?"
Lu Ran replied: "Basic operations, nothing fancy."
Shen Yuege sent an eye-rolling emoji, then sent another message: "Are you coming home for dinner tonight? I learned a new dish."
Lu Ran stared at the message for two seconds, then typed, "What dish?"
Braised pork belly.
"Are you sure it's braised pork belly and not burnt pork belly?"
"Lu Ran, you just wait!"
Lu Ran smiled and put his phone in his pocket.
Then he stood up, glanced at the employees still working diligently in the office, and cleared his throat.
"Everyone, let's leave work early today. Go home and spend time with your families, and continue tomorrow."
Old Zhang didn't even look up: "Let's work on it a little longer, I'm almost done fixing this redstone bug."
Everyone else reacted in the same way; no one moved.
Lu Ran shook his head helplessly.
Why don't these people know how to enjoy life?
He didn't try to persuade him any further, and just picked up his bag and left.
As he passed by the break room, he overheard two new interns chatting.
"How old is Mr. Lu? He doesn't look much older than us."
"Who knows? Anyway, he's better than me. When I was 23, I was still sending out resumes, while he had already created several hit products by the time he was 23."
"The difference between people is greater than the difference between people and dogs."
"Your analogy isn't quite right."
"Similar to"
Lu Ran didn't stop walking, but the corners of his mouth unconsciously turned up.
...
When Lu Ran arrived home, Shen Yuege was standing in the kitchen wearing an apron.
The pot lid on the stove was bubbling loudly from the steam, and the air was filled with the aroma of soy sauce and sugar mixed together.
He changed his shoes, walked to the kitchen door, and glanced inside. Shen Yuege was holding a spatula, looking worried at the braised pork in the pot.
"You're back just in time," she said without turning her head. "Could you check if this color is right for me?"
Lu Ran leaned over and took a look.
The color of the meat in the pot was indeed off. It wasn't the bright reddish-brown color that braised pork should have, but rather a dark, almost blackish red, as if too much soy sauce had been added.
He paused for a moment, then decided to tell the truth: "How much soy sauce did you put in?"
"Only a little bit was poured out."
"How much is one point?"
Shen Yuege gestured, indicating that it was about half a bowl's worth.
Lu Ran took a deep breath, patted her shoulder and said it was okay, black has its own flavor, maybe even tastier than red.
Shen Yuege looked at him with some skepticism, then scooped out the meat and arranged it in a special way while plating it.
The two sat at the dining table, and Shen Yuege watched longingly as he picked up a piece of meat and put it in his mouth.
Lu Ran chewed twice, keeping his expression well-controlled, and said, "It's alright."
Shen Yuege tried a piece herself, chewed it for two seconds, and then spat it out. It was so salty that she had to drink two glasses of water.
"You're lying to me," she glared at Lu Ran, "This isn't just okay, this is deadly."
"I said 'it's alright,' not 'it's delicious.' A little salty goes well with rice."
Shen Yuege was too lazy to argue with him, so she pushed the braised pork aside, took out the leftovers from yesterday from the refrigerator, and the two of them made do with a meal.
After finishing their meal, Lu Ran went to wash the dishes, while Shen Yuege sat on the sofa scrolling through her phone. Suddenly, she exclaimed "Huh!"
"What's wrong?" Lu Ran asked as she walked out of the kitchen, wiping her hands.
"Look at this." Shen Yuege handed over her phone. On the screen was an analysis article about the gaming industry, titled "Looking at the Rise of Tutu Technology from the Public Beta of Minecraft."
Lu Ran took the article and flipped through it. It was quite long, starting from "Seven Heroes of the Jianghu" and continuing all the way to the public beta of "Minecraft", analyzing every step of Tutu Technology's journey.
The author concludes that Tutu Technology's success is not accidental, but the result of a combination of accurate understanding of user needs and an extreme pursuit of product quality.
Lu Ran nodded, indicating his full agreement.
The success of Tutu Technology lies in its ability to accurately present works that users recognize, which is a testament to its precise understanding of user needs.
As for quality, it is a work that has been tested many times in its previous life, so quality is the least of our concerns.
After reading it, Lu Ran handed the phone back to Shen Yuege: "This person's analysis is alright, but he talks too much nonsense."
"They wrote thousands of words, and you just say it's full of nonsense?"
"What else can I do? I can give him a tip?"
Shen Yuege shook her head and continued scrolling down.
After scrolling through a few more articles, she came across a report from a Japanese gaming media outlet. The title, roughly translated, was "Sakura Games Suffers a Setback in the Chinese Market, Facing a Strategic Choice."
She read the headline to Lu Ran, who was silent for a moment after hearing it. He then walked to the sofa, sat down, took her phone, and read the entire report.
The report stated that Sakura Games had been in the Chinese market for almost a year, investing more money than expected, but the returns were far below expectations.
Since its release, the data for "Dynasty Warriors" has been declining, and it has now fallen to less than half of the data of its competitors at the same time.
The subsequent products failed to generate much buzz, leaving the entire Longguo business in a dilemma.
The report concluded by quoting an anonymous analyst who said that Sakura Games now has only two paths: either increase investment or shrink its operations and withdraw from the Chinese market.
After reading the message, Lu Ran returned the phone and leaned back on the sofa without saying a word.
Shen Yuege looked at him and asked, "Aren't you worried?" Lu Ran shook his head and said, "Worried about what? Are you worried that they will increase their investment or that they will withdraw?"
"Everyone's worried. Isn't their increased investment a threat to you? If they withdraw, wouldn't you have one less competitor? Isn't one less competitor a good thing?"
"It's certainly a good thing to have one less competitor, but they won't back down." Lu Ran looked at the ceiling. "That's how Japanese companies do things. They invest so much money, and their books show huge losses, but they won't admit defeat. It's not because they don't want to admit it, but because admitting it would be tantamount to admitting that their initial decision was wrong. Politics is more important than products in big companies, and face is more important than substance."
Shen Yuege thought about it and felt that what he said made sense, so she didn't ask any more questions.
What she didn't know was that the "dilemma" mentioned in the report had actually evolved into a heated debate within Sakura Games.
The two sides in the dispute were the head of the China branch and the strategic investment department of the Japanese headquarters.
The people at the Dragon Kingdom branch believe there is still a chance in the market. They believe that as long as the headquarters provides more resources and more time, they will definitely be able to turn the situation around.
The people at headquarters didn't quite believe it, but they didn't want to give up easily either. After all, they had already invested so much money, and if they stopped now, all their previous investments would be wasted.
Just as the two sides were deadlocked, similar news also came from EA.
EA entered the Chinese market later than Sakura Games, but its scale and influence were much greater.
Wilderness Era has had decent data since its release, but that's about it.
EA headquarters was not satisfied with this result because their expectations for the Chinese market were much higher than they had now.
We spent so much money and did so much marketing, only to be crushed by an old game from a small local company. It's embarrassing to talk about this.
The two companies have no apparent dealings, but they are in strikingly similar situations when it comes to the Chinese market.
They were all outsiders, they all spent a lot of money, and they were all caught off guard by a young man named Lu Ran.
Now they all face the same choice: either admit defeat and leave, or go all in with their best.
The answer is already there.
At Sakura Games' Tokyo headquarters, a small conference room was filled with people.
At one end of the long table sat several elderly men with gray hair, members of the Sakura Games board of directors. At the other end sat a man in his early forties, impeccably dressed in a suit, with a serious expression; he was Yamamoto, the head of Sakura Games' China branch.
On the table in front of him lay a thick report with the words "Counterattack Plan for the Dragon Country Market" printed on the cover.
Yamamoto stood up, bowed, and then began his report.
His voice wasn't loud, but he spoke each sentence very clearly.
He said there are still opportunities in the Dragon Kingdom market, and we can't just give up.
He said that although Tutu Technology is gaining momentum, their product line is not rich enough, mainly relying on one MOBA game and one sandbox game.
Sakura Games still has several flagship products in hand, and as long as they choose the right direction, they have a real chance to turn things around.
After he finished speaking, an old man sitting at one end of the long table spoke up, his voice not loud but his tone heavy.
He asked Yamamoto, "You said the same thing before, and what happened?"
Sweat beaded on Yamamoto's forehead, but he did not back down. He bowed again and said, "We didn't understand the Dragon Kingdom market well enough before. Now we have learned our lesson and will not make the same mistake again."
The meeting room remained silent for a long time.
Finally, the old man waved his hand, and Yamamoto knew that he was being told to go outside and wait for news.
He gave a final bow and left the meeting room.
The corridor was quiet. He stood by the window, looking at the Tokyo skyline, his palms sweaty.
About twenty minutes later, the meeting room door opened, and a secretary came out and told him that the board of directors had approved his proposal in principle.
Yamamoto bowed deeply, then turned and walked back to his office.
He closed the door, took a folder from the drawer, inside which was a proposal he had been preparing for several months.
The cover reads: "Project Cherry Blossom: The Dragon Kingdom's Counterattack".
The core of this proposal is only one thing: to bring Sakura Games' flagship product from the Japanese market to China.
This isn't just a simple translation and server swap; it's a genuine localization.
From the storyline to the characters to the operational rhythm, everything was redone according to the habits of Chinese players.
The investment will be much larger than before, the risks will be much greater, but the returns will also be much greater.
Yamamoto opened the first page of the proposal, which featured a concept art image of a game.
A product that has been operating in the Japanese market for ten years, a national-level game with tens of millions of loyal users.
Its name is "Sakura Legend", an MMORPG that blends historical, mythological and fantasy elements.
In Japan, this game has become a cultural symbol, more than just a game; it's a way of life.
Yamamoto wanted to bring it to China and use it to compete with the younger products from Rabbit Technology.
He closed the proposal and looked out the window at Tokyo Tower.
He recalled his first visit to China, when he was full of confidence, believing that as long as he brought over the best products from Japan, Chinese consumers would buy them.
Now he realizes he was wrong. The Dragon Kingdom market has its own rules, its own preferences, and its own rhythm.
The foreign monks weren't incapable of chanting scriptures; it was just that they used the wrong version of the scriptures.
This time is different.
This time, he wants to change the scriptures into a language that players from the Dragon Kingdom can understand.
Meanwhile, similar discussions were taking place at EA headquarters across the ocean.
EA encountered slightly different problems in the Chinese market than Sakura Games, but the essence was the same: they couldn't adapt to the local market.
Their product quality is fine, and their technology is fine too; the problem lies in their lack of understanding of Chinese players.
What players in the Dragon Kingdom want is not a perfect world, but a world where they feel a sense of belonging.
The head of EA's China branch is Morrison, an American in his forties. He speaks Chinese quite well, but his understanding of Chinese culture is limited to being able to say a few idioms.
During his report, people at headquarters asked him why the data for "Wilderness Era" was not as expected.
He gave many reasons, including intense competition, different user habits, and insufficient localization.
The people at headquarters then asked why Rabbit Technology was able to succeed.
Morrison paused for a moment, then said something he had thought about for a long time: because they understand players better.
The people at headquarters didn't ask any further questions, nor was there any need to.
The data is there; saying anything more is superfluous.
After the meeting, Morrison was called to the CEO's office.
The CEO was an old man in his sixties with completely white hair, but his eyes were very sharp.
He sat behind his desk, holding a report in his hand, which was EA's internal assessment of the Chinese market.
The report clearly states that EA still has opportunities in the Chinese market, but the window of opportunity is narrowing.
Either increase investment now, or never mention the Chinese market again.
Morrison stood in front of his desk, waiting for the CEO to speak.
The old man put down the report, glanced at him, and said, "I'll give you the resources you want, but you have to give me a winning strategy."
Morrison said he already has one.
He took a proposal out of his briefcase and placed it on the table. The cover had the words "Project Dragon: Shield of the Dragon Kingdom" printed on it.
The core of this plan is to integrate EA's most successful product lines and create a completely new version specifically for the Chinese market.
It's not simply a translation of the European and American versions; it's a product tailored specifically for Chinese players, created from scratch.
The investment would be enormous, so enormous that he dared not include specific figures in the proposal.
But he felt it was worth it because the potential of the Chinese market was enormous.
The CEO glanced at the proposal, neither agreeing nor disagreeing, but he said something that made Morrison's heart race.
The old man said he would consider it and told Morrison to go back and wait for news.
When Morrison walked out of the CEO's office, the back of his clothes was soaked with sweat.
He stood in the corridor for a while, then took out his phone and sent a message to his colleague at the Longguo branch, containing only two words—"Wait for news."
...