owlsbooks Chapter 310 Chen Mo's Visit
Chapter 310 Chen Mo's Visit
Tokyo, Sakura Games headquarters.
A dog sat in its office, with the same League of Legends gameplay video on its computer screen.
He observed more carefully than Morrison.
It's not about watching it over and over again, but about analyzing it frame by frame.
He paused the video at each key moment, carefully studying the map layout, hero skills, combat rhythm, and interface design.
Sometimes he would go back and watch it again, and sometimes he would put two different clips side by side for comparison.
The Japanese spirit of craftsmanship is perfectly embodied in him.
Yamamoto Ichiro sat opposite him, waiting quietly.
A dog put down the mouse, took off its glasses, and rubbed its nose.
His expression remained calm, but having followed him for so many years, Yamamoto Ichiro could read his emotions from those subtle movements—he was anxious.
"Yamamoto-kun," a dog began, "what do you think of this game?"
Ichiro Yamamoto thought for a moment and said seriously, "Judging from the video, the gameplay is very innovative. The five-on-five battle mode is currently a blank in the market. If managed properly, it could indeed become a phenomenal product."
"A blank." A dog repeated the word, its lips twitching slightly. "That's the scariest thing about the Dragon Kingdom market. It's not that it lacks users, but that users are waiting for a truly fun game. When that game appears, the users' enthusiasm will erupt like a volcano."
He pointed to the video on the screen: "That's the volcano."
Yamamoto Ichiro remained silent, for he knew that what the faithful dog said was true.
Sakura Games has been operating in the Chinese market for a long time, investing in more than a dozen small and medium-sized game companies, integrating channel resources, and refining its product line.
Everything they do is aimed at gaining a foothold in the Chinese market.
But TuTu Technology's "League of Legends" could potentially change the entire market landscape overnight.
It's not because it's much better than Sakura Games' products, but because it arrives faster, more accurately, and more ruthlessly.
It targets a blank market and satisfies a need that has not yet been met.
Once users' needs are met, they will form a perception of this category—this is what this category looks like, and this way of doing things is the standard.
At that point, if Sakura Games were to bring its own products over, it would be seen as an "imitator" or "copycat."
It's not that your product isn't good enough, it's just that you were there first.
"What about Tencent?" a message dog asked. "Has Chen Mo replied yet?"
Yamamoto Ichiro shook his head: "After sending the email last time, Chen Mo hasn't given a clear response. He only said 'it's under discussion' and 'we'll contact you if there's any progress.' As far as I know, there's not a unified attitude within Tencent regarding cooperating with us. Some people think it's a good thing, as it can fill the gaps in Tencent's game content. Others think Sakura Games is an outsider, and cooperating with an outsider will offend the higher-ups."
A dog remained silent for a moment.
He has never been able to figure out Tencent's attitude.
Chen Mo is always very polite when we meet, and every conversation goes smoothly, but he just doesn't make any progress.
It's like a pool of water, calm on the surface, but no one can see what's hidden beneath.
"Give it another push," said a messenger dog. "Tell Chen Mo that our terms are still negotiable. The shareholding percentage can be reduced to below 10%, and the profit sharing can be split 30/70, with them getting 70% and us getting 30%. The scope of technology sharing can also be further limited to products that are already online, excluding core R&D."
Yamamoto Ichiro quickly jotted down notes in his notebook, then looked up and said, "Mr. Ichijo, aren't these conditions a bit too generous?"
"Generous?" A dog gave a wry smile. "Yamamoto-kun, you haven't grasped the situation. It's not a question of whether we want to cooperate with Tencent, it's a question of whether Tencent wants to cooperate with us. If Tutu Technology's League of Legends really becomes a hit, Tencent will have another option—to cooperate directly with Tutu Technology. At that point, our bargaining chips will be worthless."
Yamamoto Ichiro's expression changed slightly.
He had never thought about this issue from this perspective.
In his view, Tencent is a giant, while Tutu Technology is a rising star, and there is still a big gap between the two.
But a dog with a strong belief in the truth is right. If League of Legends really becomes a phenomenal product, then Tutu Technology will have leverage to negotiate with Tencent.
By then, Tencent won't need Sakura Games to make up for its shortcomings in game content.
"I'll contact Chen Mo right away." Yamamoto Ichiro stood up and strode out of the office.
A dog sat alone in the office, put its glasses back on, and stared at the video on the screen.
In the scene, the warrior in golden armor charged into the enemy ranks once again.
This time, he didn't look at the controls or the skills, but instead watched the warrior's running movements—the armor swaying in the wind, the cloak billowing behind him, and his steps firm and powerful.
It's like running, or like charging.
The dog turned off the video, closed the computer, and didn't want to watch anymore.
The fluency of this skill cannot be achieved in just one or two days; even with their company's capabilities, it would take about two years.
...
Shanghai, Weibo Technology Headquarters.
Wang Huabing sat in his office, and on the screen in front of him was not a video of "League of Legends," but a data chart.
TUTU's daily active users have been climbing from 90 million to 95 million in the past week.
We are only five million away from reaching one hundred million.
five million.
Compared to Weibo's more than 200 million daily active users, five million is nothing.
But what Wang Huabing cares about is not the number itself, but the trend behind it.
No, Weibo has already taken notice of these 500 million.
The gap between 200 million and nearly 100 million has reached a point of great threat.
TUTU's growth was not achieved through buying traffic, manipulating app rankings, or burning money.
It's about the content, the product, and Lu Ran himself.
"Lone Warrior" and "Nocturne" brought TUTU a huge amount of traffic and attention, but what really kept users was the anticipation of "League of Legends".
After the gameplay video was leaked, the activity level of the gaming section on TUTU surged by 300%.
Users were discussing heroes, researching tactics, and speculating about release dates; the entire community was as lively as if it were Chinese New Year.
This kind of popularity doesn't exist on Weibo.
Weibo's "Warm Winter Plan" is still ongoing, with celebrities offering blessings, hyping up topics, and bombarding trending searches. The data looks good, but Wang Huabing knows in his heart that the data is generated by burning money and piling up resources, not by users' spontaneous enthusiasm.
If the startup screen GG stops, the data will be lost.
If a trending topic is removed, it will lose its appeal. If celebrities stop posting, their fans will stop coming.
This kind of enthusiasm has no foundation.
TUTU's popularity is rooted in the hearts of its users.
It's not because TUTU offered users any benefits, but because users found what they wanted on TUTU—fun games, great songs, and friends they could chat with.
These things cannot be bought with money.
"Mr. Wang," the assistant knocked and entered, "the operations department is asking whether we should continue with the 'Warm Winter Plan'? The budget is almost used up, and if we want to continue, we'll need to allocate funds from other projects."
Wang Huabing thought for a moment and said, "Continue pushing it. But halve the budget and concentrate resources on the few topics that will yield the best results. Stop the others if possible."
The assistant hesitated for a moment: "Half price? But Mr. Wang, what about TUTU—"
"I know TUTU is gaining momentum," Wang Huabing interrupted him. "But now is not the time to go head-to-head with them. Their popularity is fueled by League of Legends. Once the game is released, the hype will gradually subside. It will be much more cost-effective for us to increase our investment then than to compete with them head-on now."
The assistant nodded, jotted it down in his notebook, and then asked, "So, should we also create some content for League of Legends? Many users discuss the game on Weibo; if we could provide a platform for discussion—"
"No way." Wang Huabing rejected the idea outright. "That's TUTU's game. If we promote their game on our own platform, aren't we helping them advertise? Let the users discuss it themselves; we shouldn't interfere."
The assistant opened his mouth as if to say something, but seeing Wang Huabing's expression, he swallowed his words and turned to leave the office.
Wang Huabing leaned back in his chair, staring at the ceiling, his mind filled with TUTU's ever-increasing daily active user curve.
Ninety-five million.
He closed his eyes, not wanting to see anymore.
But he knew that number would continue to rise. Reaching 100 million by the time League of Legends was released was almost a certainty.
By then, TUTU will no longer be a promising upstart, but a truly formidable opponent that no one can afford to ignore.
And he could only sit there, watching it approach step by step.
...
Shanghai, Tencent East China Branch.
Chen Mo sat in his office, with a gameplay video of League of Legends playing on his computer screen.
He has watched it no less than twenty times, and he makes new discoveries each time.
The first time I watched it, I was just excited. The scene of the five heroes battling on the map was lively, the skill effects were cool, the battle pace was fast, and it was very enjoyable to watch.
The second time he looked at it, he focused on the mechanics. He found that the game's design was very sophisticated—the number of minions on each lane, the respawn time of jungle monsters, the attack mechanics of turrets, the cooldown and damage of hero skills—every number seemed to have been precisely calculated, no more, no less, just right.
The third review focused on balance. There are forty heroes—warriors, marksmen, mages, assassins, and supports—each with their own role and characteristics. No hero appears particularly strong or weak. This balance cannot be achieved through luck; it requires extensive testing and data feedback.
He watched it a fourth time, a fifth time, a sixth time... and each time he discovered new details, each detail making him rate the game even higher.
"Mr. Chen," the assistant said, bringing in a cup of coffee and placing it on the table. "The technical department has finished the analysis report for this game."
Chen Mo took the report and turned to the first page.
The report is very detailed, with professional analysis and evaluation of every aspect, from technical architecture to art style, from gameplay mechanics to numerical balance, and from server architecture to client performance.
He read on line by line, and the more he read, the more something seemed off.
It's not because the report was poorly written, but because it was so well written.
The engineers in the technical department gave the game very high praise, even effusively.
"The game's technical architecture is very advanced, and its network synchronization algorithm is at least 30 percent more efficient than the industry average."
"The hero skills are very cleverly designed. There is no obvious homogeneity among the forty heroes, and each hero has a unique gameplay experience."
"The numerical balance is excellent; the win rate differences between different heroes should be kept within a very small range."
"If this game can be successfully launched and maintain stable operation, there is a very high probability that it will become a phenomenal product."
Chen Mo closed the report, leaned back in his chair, took off his glasses, and rubbed the bridge of his nose.
He recalled a few months ago when he first came to discuss cooperation with Lu Ran. He sat in the conference room, watching the young man speak eloquently.
He felt that Lu Ran was not simple at that time, but he did not expect him to move so fast and steadily.
It's only been a little over a year since TUTU was launched.
Daily active users grew from zero to over 90 million, and the product line expanded from a few mini-games to social, anime, card battle, and massively multiplayer online competitive games.
Every product is launched at the right time in the market, and every step is taken steadily and surely.
League of Legends is probably Lu Ran's biggest card.
Chen Mo didn't want to admit it, but he had to, that Lu Ran was becoming increasingly attractive to him.
Although he is still working with Weibo to suppress Tutu Technology, who's to say they can't turn around and cooperate with Tutu Technology again?
In the workplace, there are no permanent enemies, only permanent interests.
"Mr. Chen," the assistant whispered, "Wang from the technical department said that with Tencent's current technological capabilities, it would take at least two years to develop a game similar to League of Legends."
Chen Mo opened his eyes and looked at his assistant: "Two years?"
"Yes." The assistant nodded. "Engineer Wang said that the technical difficulties of this game are not on the surface, but at the underlying level. Network synchronization algorithms, server architecture, anti-cheat systems, matchmaking mechanisms—these things all require a lot of time and manpower to refine. If it were just to make something that looks similar, six months would be enough. But to achieve the smoothness and stability shown in the video, two years is the most conservative estimate."
Chen Mo remained silent for a long time.
Two years.
By then, League of Legends would have been on the market for two years, user habits would have been formed, a player community would have been established, and an esports ecosystem would have been built.
Even if Tencent creates a similar product of better quality, it will be difficult to steal users away from League of Legends.
Because user stickiness has already been established and social relationships have been formed, the time and money invested are incalculable.
This is the advantage of being first to market.
Lu Ran was aware of this principle, which is why he refrained from promoting "League of Legends" when TUTU's user base was not large enough, and only released it when the daily active users reached 90 million.
He wasn't unprepared; he was waiting for the perfect opportunity—an opportunity that would leave competitors no time to react, the market no time to digest, and users no time to compare.
And now, that opportunity has arrived.
"Mr. Chen," the assistant said again, "there's one more thing. Sakura Games sent another email. A messenger said their terms are negotiable. Their shareholding percentage can be reduced to below 10%, and the profit sharing can be split 30/70."
Chen Mo did not answer immediately.
He was thinking about something else.
What would Tencent gain if it partnered with Sakura Games? Several established games in the Japanese market, distribution channels from over a dozen small and medium-sized companies, and a newcomer that has long been operating in the Chinese market.
These things have value, but they are not irreplaceable.
Although Sakura Games' offer of cooperation was very attractive, he also knew that the Japanese were wolves in sheep's clothing, and that cooperating with them required constant vigilance.
But conversely, what would Tencent gain if it partnered with Tutu Technology?
TUTU boasts over 90 million daily active users, League of Legends is a product with enormous potential, and there's also Lu Ran himself.
TUTU's daily active users will soon exceed 100 million.
If League of Legends is managed properly, it's not a dream to have over a million concurrent players.
Judging from his performance over the past year, Lu Ran's vision, judgment, and execution have far surpassed those of his peers, and even those of many seasoned veterans who have been in the industry for over a decade.
These things are far more valuable than what the Sakura game can offer.
"Get the car ready." Chen Mo suddenly stood up, picked up his phone and car keys from the table, "I'm going to TuTu Technology."
The assistant hesitated for a moment: "Now? Should I call and make an appointment first?"
"No need." Chen Mo had already left the office. "We'll talk when we get there."
By the time the car left the Tencent building, it was already dark in Shanghai.
Chen Mo sat in the back seat, looking out the car window at the rapidly receding city lights. One neon light after another illuminated the city's night sky as if it were daytime.
He recalled the first time he met Lu Ran.
At that time, Lu Ran was just a budding entrepreneur. TUTU only had a little over ten million daily active users, and the office didn't even have a decent meeting room.
But sitting there, facing the behemoth Tencent, he was neither intimidated nor obsequious. Instead, he negotiated terms and reasoned with neither servility nor arrogance.
"President Chen," Lu Ran said at the time, "cooperation is possible, but not in the way you do. You want distribution channels, I want autonomy. If you can't give me autonomy, then there's nothing to talk about."
Chen Mo remembered those words for a long time.
It wasn't because Lu Ran rejected him, but because Lu Ran clearly knew what she wanted and what she didn't want.
In this industry, many people are willing to give up a lot in order to cooperate with Tencent—autonomy, voice, and even dignity.
But Lu Ran refused. He would rather do it himself slowly than live under someone else's roof.
Chen Mo admired this kind of backbone.
But while I admire you, business is business.
He hadn't contacted Lu Ran before because he felt the timing wasn't right.
At that time, TUTU's user base was not large enough, and Tutu Technology had not yet demonstrated sufficient competitiveness. If Tencent took the initiative to approach them, their stance would be too humble, and they would have fewer bargaining chips.
He was waiting for an opportunity—an opportunity when TUTU's growth hit a bottleneck and Lu Ran realized that going it alone had its limits.
But the emergence of League of Legends disrupted his plans.
This game has tremendous growth potential.
It's so big that once it establishes itself, Tutu Technology will no longer need Tencent.
At that point, the question won't be whether Tencent wants to cooperate with Tutu Technology, but whether Tutu Technology is willing to cooperate with Tencent.
So he couldn't wait any longer.
The car stopped downstairs at the headquarters of TuTu Technology. Chen Mo got out of the car and looked up at the inconspicuous building.
A year ago, this was just an unknown small company.
A year later, this place has become the most sought-after new star in the internet industry.
Time waits for no one, the market waits for no one, and neither do our competitors.
He took a deep breath, pushed open the door, and went inside.
When the receptionist saw him, she paused for a moment, clearly recognizing him.
"Mr. Chen...Mr. Chen? Are you here to see Mr. Lu?"
"Yes." Chen Mo smiled. "Is he here?"
"Yes, yes. Mr. Lu is in a meeting at the company today and should still be here. I'm just letting him know."
"No need to announce it, I can go up myself."
...