Chapter 27: Please, Keep Wiping

"Actually, there are some suggestions regarding the company's next steps, primarily coming from the players."

When asked by Gu Meng for his thoughts on the company's future direction, Wu Mengyou produced the data she had collected.

"An increasing number of players are providing feedback, hoping we continue to make games similar to 'Pure Love.' We haven't given them a direct response yet, and now they are strongly suggesting that we release a sequel or DLC for 'Pure Love Warrior Simulator'."

The documents in Wu Mengyou's hands were filled with player suggestions, most of which followed this theme. A significant portion came from fans who supported Gu Meng personally, expressing their unwavering loyalty and vowing that the "dark forces" wouldn't prevail for long.

Gu Meng felt a slight pang of embarrassment. In truth, his promotional strategy had somewhat exploited the sense of justice and sympathy of these bystanders...

But he quickly brushed aside these pangs of conscience.

He was a boss out here selling a product; why worry about such trifles? He was a man destined to become the God of Gaming. Gods have no morality, and therefore, they are not constrained by conscience.

In reality, if he could, Gu Meng would love to follow the players' wishes and cash in on a sequel, but he couldn't. For one, he wanted to build his reputation as an omnipotent game developer, and churning out homogenized games so quickly would be bad for his image. Gu Meng was someone who deeply cared about his personal brand—a vain person who wanted to maintain a high-status aura. He was self-aware enough to admit this, and he felt fully justified in doing so.

Showing off in front of others is human nature. Since he was a transmigrator and no nefarious forces were pushing him into a desperate, miserable corner, why shouldn't he maintain his prestige? Gu Meng didn't just want to make money; he wanted to make money "while standing tall." Even if he were to make a sequel, it should wait at least two years; doing it now would look too desperate.

On the other hand, Gu Meng simply couldn't meet the players' expectations. The reputation of "Pure Love" was excellent, and the gameplay was sufficiently varied. Players currently felt that the scale wasn't large enough. Since President Gu had stepped in at a critical moment and immediately delivered a masterpiece, they wondered if he could do even better. The simplest improvements, for example, would be expanding the map—which was currently limited to the small town and the area near the university—or refining the modeling, which wasn't particularly exquisite and still had room for growth.

Many players were now directly demanding "Pure Love Warrior Simulator 2," or DLC that included new maps and gameplay.

In the past, when Maodou made interactive movies, their best-selling titles would often receive sequels or expansions, which were essentially just side stories, prequels, or "what-if" scenarios—quite simple. Non-interactive movie games, however, were more troublesome.

Wu Mengyou summarized the players' more specific requests: create the city of Youth City or the Donghua City mentioned in the backstory, open up more part-time jobs typically found in big cities, and perhaps collaborate with real-world enterprises in Donghua. They also complained that the legal system in the game was too restrictive; they hoped to weaken the "Heavenly Dao Monsters" (the game's internal disciplinary system) so the protagonist could commit crimes, unlock gang-leader paths, or even pursue a political career. Finally, they wanted more risqué content—actual, explicit action scenes. Since the characters weren't real people, they argued, couldn't things be a bit more suggestive? The most "edgy" part of the game was the text, but the character models were certainly capable of more—why couldn't they be utilized?

"Dragon King, lead us to glory once more!"

The Dragon King chose to decline.

Gu Meng also flatly rejected the "criminal behavior" request. As someone with a normal IQ, he knew what lines couldn't be crossed. In the context of modern society, even interactive movies couldn't feature such plots—the female leads shouldn't be involved in such things, let alone letting the player control the male lead to do them. And wanting to fight the "Heavenly Dao Monsters"? Ha! Ridiculous. This wasn't just him being paranoid. Any attempt to make a "Lawless Outlaw Simulator" would surely be banned, or at the very least, forced to be set abroad.

As for the first request—expanding the map—it was theoretically possible but practically impossible. Although "Pure Love" was hailed as a masterpiece, Gu Meng knew there were many areas that needed optimization. The foundation was Maodou's original demo, which was truly abysmal; the modeling was rough, and the limit of upgrading that version was the current level—just good enough to be presentable without tarnishing the aura of a "god-tier" developer.

To use an analogy: Unreal Engine 3 has its limits, and so does Unreal Engine 4. Some games made with Unreal Engine 5 have an incredibly high ceiling, but there are also indie games made with UE5 that look like student graduation projects—you can only see the lack of skill, not any sense of aesthetics. The original "Pure Love" demo was equivalent to a student graduation project in UE3, and a poor one at that. It was a mess, devoid of any aesthetic value. To put it bluntly, the buildings in the game were industrial trash, and the characters were biological waste.

The system had modified it to the limit of UE3, or perhaps even UE3.5, comparable to UE4—a level that normal human efforts could never achieve. Of course, this analogy isn't entirely accurate; this world didn't have the Unreal series, only the Mirage series. "Pure Love" was made with Maodou’s proprietary engine—a truly idiotic operation. That guy had taken something made with a standard engine and passed it off as his own scientific achievement, leading Gu Ritian to think he was a genius. That person in charge had already been dealt with.

Furthermore, the two maps in the original "Pure Love" were limited. The area near the university only served the function of finding the female lead. The system, however, had gone overboard, adding tons of content. Around the university, there were many buildings that allowed for normal interaction: dating, working, buying houses, buying cars, opening milk tea shops, etc. It was at the level of creating something from nothing. The original town was filled with free assets and placeholder models; ninety-nine percent were inaccessible and very crude. The current version, while small in map size, was refined. Almost every scene had a purpose and special interactions with the male lead, meticulously arranged and packed with so much content that normal players wouldn't even notice the map was small.

Optimizing the game from that half-finished state to its current level was the system's limit. To surpass this, he would need to travel through time, find a demo with more potential, and have the system optimize it again, with Gu Meng providing clearer instructions. As for now, it was too late. Updating the map would mean changing the game, which was impossible.

Making DLC is no different from a major overhaul in terms of adding new content. How could Gu Meng afford that astronomical cost? When "Pure Love" faced controversy, Gu Meng estimated that changing even a single ending would cost nine figures. Creating a decent DLC would likely cost billions. That was impossible.

Adding more suggestive content was even more beyond his reach. It would be playing with fire, destroying all the benefits that came from the harem being a "bug" rather than a hidden mechanic. You can't just add risqué content to a "bug." Moreover, he couldn't afford the cost of modifying the game. The base price of the game was only 68. Its success—reaching ten million sales so quickly—was a result of perfect timing, location, and people; the various controversies and viral marketing were likely more important than the quality itself. The DLC couldn't exceed that price. Even if he priced it at 40 and sold five million copies with luck, after the platform's cut, he'd only get back a little over one hundred million—a total loss.