To ascend, I had no choice but to create games

Chapter 224: 153 The Meaning of a Good Game (Part 1)_1

Chapter 224: Chapter 153 The Meaning of a Good Game (Part 1)_1

After dying for the second time, Qiu Yu’s spaceship self-destructed again, with an enhanced destructiveness that obliterated everything in the vicinity.

Before he was sent back to the hangar, he saw on a scanner similar to a minimap that nearly all the red dots symbolizing monsters had been wiped out by the aftermath. A variety of monsters were blasted to pieces, ensuring he took a host of them to the grave with him.

The death of these monsters brought a great number of points, allowing him to choose a more powerful body and to upgrade to better weapons.

In the hangar, a technician gazed at the revived Qiu Yu, and after carefully checking the points, widened his eyes and asked, “How did you manage that? Was the explosion really so powerful?”

“Haven’t you ever self-destructed before?”

“We’ve self-destructed, but nobody ever came back, nor was there any record to tell us the final effect of the self-explosion.”

The Snowfield Hamster technician sighed, and said darkly, “Our home planet encountered a similar situation before. Songta Planet is one of the most neglected areas within the Heavenly Tao network, after all, we Squirrel People are weak and our technology is severely outdated, with little to no value. To retake our homeworld, we lost half of our pilots. Hmm, why are you looking at me like that?”

Staring at the complaining technician, Qiu Yu said in surprise, “No, I’m just astonished that this game actually has a storyline.”

“A game, huh…”

The technician, having received some training, knew that these special Squirrel People were envoys of an Outer God, with a thought process different from ordinary squirrels.

They have the ability to resurrect indefinitely and treated each death as if it was part of a game, so there was no need to worry about their safety or psychological state, and the task at hand was simply to support them with all might.

This particular Outer God had even provided them with a “Service Manual.” The manual was not lengthy, but it detailed how to deal with these envoys and how to keep them content.

However, even just casually dealing with them was fine, as these envoys seemed to have no other desires beyond piloting spaceships.

Aside from the few Squirrel People who always tried to trick the technicians into cuddles, these envoys were actually quite agreeable.

The spaceships and their weapons were products manufactured by that Outer God. Although they looked exactly the same as those of the Squirrels, their intrinsic nature was completely different.

Sir Big Tail had conducted experiments and discovered that these spaceships seemed to be restricted by some sort of incredibly strange power, which gave them ridiculously powerful capabilities.

Supported by this force known as “Mana,” these spaceships appeared to be able to recover indefinitely, though the principle behind this was unclear.

While it’s common for Outer Gods to symbolize the incomprehensible, in the technician’s view, this particular Outer God’s power was so immense it was hard to fathom, seemingly on par with the Main God within the network.

If only this Outer God could protect them…

Quickly discarding this impractical thought, the technician felt the idea was far from realistic.

The world was home to many intelligent species, but very few Gods, affording the latter significant choice.

A benevolent Outer God had better options, with numerous races within the Heavenly Tao network eager to serve, far beyond the Squirrel People’s standing. It was unrealistic to harbor such hopes.

The mere fact that the Outer God was willing to help save their home planet was enough for them to be endlessly grateful.

Shaking his head to clear it, the Squirrel came back to his senses and displayed the available bodies in the game.

Each body had its attributes; some emphasized speed, others defense, and even a colossal Interstellar Fortress was included among them—the so-called hexagonal warrior, whose speed and endurance were outrageously high.

But this thing was expensive and complicated to operate; it required multiple Squirrel Drivers to assist and pilot together to ensure it could launch.

Unfortunately, the Squirrel Drivers had to be rescued by the player in the game, and once rescued, the pilots had to agree to come aboard the ship.

Even more infuriating, this game didn’t support microtransactions, otherwise Qiu Yu would certainly have spent money to buy a 648 package and fill the ship with crewmembers right now.

For the first time in his life, Qiu Yu actually found himself wishing the game had a microtransaction button.

Looking at the 3D model of the Interstellar Fortress before him, Qiu Yu had only one thought.

That was cool.

The colossal Interstellar Fortress was comparable to a small satellite; with this contraption, he supposed he could blast through the region before him.

Its trendy and futuristic design was every boy’s dream, one that lingered even into adulthood.

Knowing he couldn’t afford or use such a thing, Qiu Yu reluctantly averted his gaze, switched his body, and upgraded his weapons.

Having talked, he bid his technician farewell and then closed his eyes, quietly savoring the sensation of thrust at his back.

When he opened his eyes once more, he found himself amidst the stars.

Although it was his third entry into this starry expanse, he remained intoxicated by its vastness and infinity, and was moved by its magnificence.

After quietly enjoying it for a while, the game’s BGM began to play.

Qiu Yu didn’t know which master had composed this BGM, but from the first time he heard this music, he knew it was tailored specifically for this game.

This symphony had no lyrics, just pure music. Its simple melody carried a mix of tragic and passionate air, making Qiu Yu feel as if he had truly become an astronaut on a mission to save his kin in the desolate cosmos.

It was a journey from which there was no return, yet he relished every moment.