17: Chapter 17: The Allure of Pixel Games?

The screen went black for a moment, and two drab, crude options popped up.

[Singleplayer], [Multiplayer].

Zhang Qizhi paused for a moment, turned up the volume on his headphones, and made sure he hadn't missed any sound effects.

"That's it?"

He couldn't help but scoff:

"They even skipped the cutscene? Did the art team pack up and run away? Or is the development team so poor that only the programmers are left?"

In an era where AAA titles easily take up dozens of gigabytes and lighting effects are designed to burn out your graphics card, this interface was practically a provocation.

"Whatever, it's a 300-megabyte game; what more can you expect?"

Zhang Qizhi pursed his lips, and with a "let's see just how bad you can be" attitude, he clicked [Singleplayer].

A sub-menu popped up.

[Survival Mode]: Explore the world, collect resources, craft items, and try to survive.

"A real man would definitely play Survival."

He didn't even glance at the [Creative Mode] below and clicked straight on "Create New World".

A line of white text popped up in the center of the screen: Loading terrain...

The progress bar moved quickly, but it stuttered slightly at 99%.

"If even a 300-megabyte game can stutter, this optimization must have been done with their heels..."

Before his complaint could even finish, the monitor screen suddenly lit up.

Zhang Qizhi instinctively leaned back, then brought his face closer to the screen, his brows instantly knitting together into a knot.

Ugly.

It was earth-shatteringly ugly, ugly in such a unique way.

The whole screen was full of pixels.

The grass at his feet wasn't some high-definition texture; it was paved with green blocks, their edges so sharp they could cut your hands. The hills in the distance looked like a pile of unfinished models, all angular, jagged steps.

Even the tree next to him...

"This is a tree?" Zhang Qizhi pointed at the screen, not knowing whether to laugh or cry. "The trunk is square? The leaves are just a clump of green square blocks? Newton's coffin lid is about to fly off, isn't it?"

He tried controlling that blocky right hand on the screen—the one that didn't even have fingers—and ran a few steps on the grass.

Swish, swish, swish.

The sound of footsteps on grass came through his headphones.

I have to say, the sound effects were quite crisp, and it was actually somewhat relaxing to listen to.

In this world, all games pursued extreme realism, so this was the first time Zhang Qizhi had seen one that put pixels right out in the open.

"And then what?"

Zhang Qizhi stopped in place, controlled his mouse to rotate the camera, and looked all around.

Below the screen was a row of empty slots, a row of hearts on the left, and a row of chicken legs on the right. Other than that, there was no UI interface.

No mini-map in the top right corner.

No quest list on the left.

It was desolate.

There wasn't even a tutorial.

"What is this game supposed to make you do? Look at the scenery in this pixel world?"

He walked up to a blocky tree and habitually clicked the left mouse button.

On the screen, that blocky right hand swung once.

"Thump!"

The trunk didn't budge.

"Can't chop it? Zero interactivity?"

He clicked again.

"Thump!"

Still no reaction.

"Trash game, wasting my time."

Zhang Qizhi's patience was completely exhausted; his left hand had already touched the Esc key, ready to force-quit, get a refund, and write a thousand-word rant in the review section.

Just as his finger was about to press Esc, that stubborn streak in him suddenly flared up.

Since it was called "Survival Mode" and there were health bars, it must mean there was an interaction mechanic. Could it be that he was doing it wrong?

He aimed the crosshair in the center of the screen at the tree trunk; this time, he didn't release the left mouse button but held it down tight.

Something amazing happened. The right hand on the screen started pounding the tree trunk continuously, fast and erratically, as if it had an electric motor.

"Thump-thump-thump-thump-thump!" The tree trunk developed many cracks.

"Huh? This works!" Zhang Qizhi's body, which had been slumped in his chair, instantly sat up straight.

As the cracks expanded.

"Pop!" An extremely crisp and pleasant sound rang out in his headphones.

A shrunken, spinning little block fell to the ground and slowly rotated.

Zhang Qizhi controlled his character to take a step forward.

"Ding!" The item was sucked up by him.

He stared at the empty space where the tree trunk had been, then looked at the [Oak Log] in his inventory.

"This tree... can be dismantled?"

He suddenly turned his head to look at the dirt beneath his feet and the rocks in the distance. Dismantle! Dismantle! Dismantle!

Ten minutes later, the look in Zhang Qizhi's eyes had changed. How was this bad graphics? This was a masterpiece! In this world, everything he could see could be destroyed and collected. This absolute control over the world was an experience those babysitting-style AAA titles had never given him.

"If I can dismantle, can I build?"

He selected the dirt and right-clicked.

"Plop." The block filled the hole steadily.

Zhang Qizhi's breath hitched, and his mind instantly exploded with ideas. This meant that as long as he was willing, he could build anything in this world!

He pressed the E key to open his inventory.

The 2x2 "Crafting" grid in the middle caught his attention. He casually tossed the log in, and four [Oak Planks] immediately popped out on the right.

"Self-consistent logic!" Zhang Qizhi got more and more hooked. He filled the crafting grid with four planks, and a [Crafting Table] appeared in his hand.

He placed it on the ground and right-clicked to open it.

The crafting interface changed from 2x2 to 3x3.

"A nine-grid?" A flash of inspiration struck Zhang Qizhi; the depth of this game far exceeded his imagination.

He tried arranging the planks vertically and crafted [Sticks]. Then, using two sticks as a handle, he placed three planks horizontally on top.

A pixel-style [Wooden Pickaxe] formed instantly!

"Holy crap! This logic... it's genius!"

No blueprints, no tutorials, all based on logical exploration. This sense of achievement in discovering a new world was infinitely more satisfying than paying money to buy legendary artifacts.

Just as Zhang Qizhi was preparing to take his wooden pickaxe and go on a rampage, the light on the screen dimmed. The blocky sun sank below the horizon, and the sky was dyed an eerie orange-red.

The lighting changed extremely fast; in just a few seconds, the surroundings plunged into a deathly darkness. The background music in his headphones also shifted from a melodious piano piece to a deep, eerie low hum.

"Ugh..." A roar exploded in his ears.

Zhang Qizhi jerked his camera around, only to see a green shadow emerge from the night, two pitch-black eyes staring fixedly at him. A Zombie!

"Damn, there are monsters!"

He raised his wooden pickaxe and charged, but before he could get close, a "click" sound came from behind him.

A bone arrow broke through the air and struck him precisely in the forehead.

The screen shook violently, and his hearts instantly dropped by two.

"Where did an archer come from?" Zhang Qizhi panicked. He tried to run, but in the darkness, he missed his footing and fell into a deep pit.

"Hiss, hiss, hiss—" A hair-raising sound rang out, and a huge red-eyed spider pounced down from the top of the pit.

With a zombie in front, a skeleton behind, and a spider above, Zhang Qizhi mashed his keyboard frantically, but could only watch helplessly as his health bar emptied.

The last half-heart vanished, and the screen turned blood red.

[You Died!]

[Respawn] | [Title Screen]

The wooden pickaxe, logs, dirt, and chicken in his inventory exploded all over the ground like scattered flowers.

"The logs I worked so hard to collect... my chicken..." Zhang Qizhi stared blankly at the screen.

He wasn't angry, and he didn't close the game. On the contrary, the hand gripping his mouse was trembling slightly. Not from anger, but from excitement.

This game actually had such a hardcore survival mechanic? Daytime is heaven, nighttime is hell?

"One more round!" Zhang Qizhi clicked [Respawn] without hesitation. This time, I'm building a house first.

By the time he felt so hungry he couldn't stand it anymore and checked the time, he realized it was already 7:00 AM. He had unknowingly pulled an all-nighter.

He looked back at the two-story house he had worked so hard to build on the screen. He was instantly stunned: "What? I only played for a little while, how is it night time already?"

Subconsciously, he called out:

"Boss, Third, Fourth, are you three awake yet? Let's go get breakfast..."

As he spoke, he remembered that the dorm was empty, and he was the only one left.

He looked at the empty dorm, then back at the minecraft screen on his laptop:

"Maybe I can recreate the dorm in here too..."

It wasn't just Zhang Qizhi. At this moment, many people were drawn to this game.

From single-player survival to team survival, they were like addicts.

Steam China Review Department.

Initial reviewer Wang Wei, after enduring for several hours, couldn't help but click on minecraft.

Half an hour later.

He was completely stunned in place.

This game was unexpectedly fun.

He was an expert.

It was precisely because he was an expert that he felt shocked.

Behind these seemingly crude pixels lay a set of exquisite, one might even say terrifying, underlying algorithms!

No fixed levels, no linear plot. This game had taken the word "freedom" to the extreme.

It wasn't telling you a story; it was giving you a world to create your own stories!

"Which big company made this under a pseudonym? Tencent? Or Blizzard?"

"No, big companies couldn't make something this inspired; they only know how to stack graphics!"

Wang Wei felt his throat go dry. He realized that he might be witnessing the birth of a new era.

This wasn't just a game. It was an engine, a platform, a brand-new form of entertainment!

Perhaps this was called an open world?

"This kind of creativity... definitely wasn't something an average person could come up with."

Wang Wei tremblingly moved his mouse to the [Credits] on the main menu. He desperately wanted to know which reclusive genius had used 300 megabytes of code to humiliate the entire gaming industry!

Click.

The list slowly scrolled.

When those names came into view, the coffee cup in Wang Wei's hand slammed onto the desk with a "clang."