Chapter 138

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Chapter 138: Isn’t It Just 996?

Because the character setting guide, designs, and script were all already prepared, Ban Hui only needed to visualize the scenes according to the script.

In less than a morning’s time, Ban Hui completed the draft of the first chapter. Once finished, she immediately brought the manuscript to Ye Xiao’s office.

“President Ye, about the first chapter of the manga…”

“No rush. The website still isn’t up yet. As long as we get about five chapters done before it’s launched, that’ll be fine.” Ye Xiao waved her hand casually.

She had never drawn a manga herself, but she had seen how manga artists and their assistants worked.

Manga artists were a species that didn’t draw until the deadline was breathing down their necks. Asking them to turn in work ahead of time was more painful than death.

Although Ban Hui’s task didn’t require designing characters or building settings—she only needed to think through panel layouts based on the script—Ye Xiao didn’t expect her to work particularly fast.

“Ah… President Ye…”

“If there’s nothing else, go back and draw. I’ve reassigned your other tasks, right? If anyone tries to push work on you, just tell them you’re carrying out a special mission from me.” Ye Xiao waved her off again.

She was in the middle of playing “Origin”, the MOBA game she mentioned before. The graphics were rough, but there weren’t many playable games in this world—she had to make do.

She was playing a hero with a tide-like theme. Their team had been at a huge disadvantage early on, but she’d just blinked in, used her ultimate and refresher orb to pull off a perfect team fight—3-for-5.

There was finally a chance at a comeback. She didn’t have time to babysit Ban Hui right now and just wanted to send her off quickly.

Once Ban Hui left the office, Ye Xiao threw herself back into the game—clearing jungle camps and pushing lanes, trying to recover resources while the enemy team was down.

But back at her desk, Ban Hui wasn’t discouraged at all that Ye Xiao hadn’t looked at her work. On the contrary, she was more motivated than ever.

In her eyes, if President Ye had chosen her to draw the manga, how could she not know how passionate she was about manga? How could she not know how fast she could draw?

Even if President Ye seemed indifferent on the surface, hadn’t she arranged for the company’s programmers to build two entirely new websites?

That clearly showed how much she valued this manga project.

President Ye could easily have hired an established, well-known Mangaka to create the work and leverage their fame to promote it.

So why didn’t she? Why give her, Ban Hui, this chance to fulfill a dream?

With Yun-Xiao Studio’s resources, what kind of artist couldn’t they recruit?

That thick stack of script and setting documents clearly wasn’t something thrown together overnight.

As someone who had drawn manga before, Ban Hui knew very well: to make a manga popular, the artwork only needed to reach a passable standard.

What really mattered was the script, the paneling, and how the story was told!

Of course, excellent artwork was a bonus.

Many blockbuster mangas started off looking rough and only gradually improved in quality over time.

So why did President Ye chase her out of the office without even looking at her draft?

It must be because she knew that a first chapter sketched in just a few hours couldn’t possibly meet her standards.

President Ye had given her such a great working environment and was even helping her chase her dream. Looking at her own slightly sloppy draft, Ban Hui felt ashamed.

Ye Xiao had no idea that her half-hearted dismissal—just to keep playing a game—had somehow pushed the quality of the “Pokémon” manga up several notches.

—

That afternoon, Ye Xiao suddenly thought of Li Mengyue.

She had already visited and apologized to every other big sister she had been close with—except for her.

She had even won over another one and caused trouble for Ye Chen—who might or might not be a Dragon King—multiple times, spoiling his plans.

Neglecting Li Mengyue was starting to feel unfair.

As someone with a magnanimous heart, Ye Xiao couldn’t let that stand.

Recently, under Shen Yunchu’s leadership, the company had completed its third round of recruitment and expansion.

Yun-Xiao Studio now had 50 employees. Following Ye Xiao’s orders, every new hire had to spend at least four hours a day during their first month playing “My World” or other classic games.

Paid gaming time. The working environment at Yun-Xiao Studio put even the fanciest domestic internet cafes to shame.

There were also unlimited snacks and drinks, free for the taking.

Thinking back on their jobs before joining Yun-Xiao, everyone couldn’t help but sigh—this really is a dream job. Our old lives were worse than pigs and dogs.

Of course, if the goal was to fully optimize, maintain, and expand “My World”, and seriously develop new mods, then even 50 people might not be enough.

“My World” had enormous potential, but its threshold was also very low.

In fact, if it weren’t for the need to gather player feedback, manage the newly launched Creative Workshop, and develop official DLCs, a single person could run the entire backend.

But feeding a bunch of people who just treated the company like a gaming lounge wasn’t sustainable. Since she now had the idea of launching the “Pokémon” franchise in this world, it was time to get the company moving.

Before visiting Li Mengyue, Ye Xiao called Shen Yunchu using the internal line.

She asked her to bring over the files of all the recently hired employees.

After skimming through them, her gaze landed on the profile of a young man named Liu Wenzhe.

This guy had two years of experience with “Palworld”, and only recently switched careers into the gaming industry—originally working as an assistant planner.

Ye Xiao’s recruitment standard was simple: young, obedient, and not overly opinionated.

Creativity and vision? That was the boss’s job. No need for the team to think outside the box.”

Older professionals in the industry always carried their own rigid methodologies. Such people had trouble accepting new ideas and were stuck in their ways—not what Ye Xiao wanted.

Liu Wenzhe had been relentlessly overworked by his previous company’s lead designer. Most of that game’s systems had been implemented by him using the engine’s visual scripting tool.

He also configured 70-80% of the in-game data tables.

He turned the lead designer’s plans into functional builds, often working late into the night, clocking more than a dozen hours a day.

This kind of Pal, this kind of “high-quality cog in the machine,” came with traits like corporate slave, dedicated, craftsmanship spirit, and rare. Practically Anubis himself.

Even more precious was the fact that—he still loved games!

Without that love, no one could survive six months in such a sweatshop of a game company.

—

“Everyone, please pause what you’re doing for a moment—I have an announcement.”

Ye Xiao stepped into the office space and called out loudly.

All eyes turned toward her.

Ye Xiao cleared her throat:

“After all this preparation, most of you should now be in the groove. That’s great.”

“Next, we’ll be officially entering the intensive development phase. I hope we can all work hard together to build a great game!”

“Starting today—we’re in full production!”

As soon as she finished, Shen Yunchu led the applause.

The others were briefly stunned, then joined in enthusiastically.

Liu Wenzhe and Ban Hui clapped the hardest.

Even though this new project probably had nothing to do with Ban Hui.

They had waited so long—it was finally here!

Time to enter the full grind phase of development!

Bring it on, 996! Lash me all you want!

Ironically, most employees were strongly opposed to 996—especially Liu Wenzhe at his old company.

He believed it was ruthless exploitation, an ugly phenomenon.

But here, at Yun-Xiao Studio—with such an amazing work environment, such generous pay, such a talented and lovable boss, such hardworking colleagues, and such a stunning female superior…

Suddenly, 996 didn’t seem that bad.

What’s 996 anyway? Let the storm come harder!