"Listen up! Today, no matter what, you have to leave bad reviews and stir up controversy!
Do you realize that in less than 24 hours, that video already has 1 million views and 10,000 comments?
If we let this keep going for a few more days, what then?"
Scott was standing in his office floor, barking orders.
At this moment, he was directing dozens of employees, all furiously typing away at their computers.
"Report, Supervisor! The comment section is moving too fast! With just a dozen of us, it's nearly impossible to push our comments to the top!"
"Hah—?!" Scott made an expression of utter disbelief. "What do you mean impossible?
What do you think the company pays you for?
Don't you know how to hire online trolls to upvote?
If the upvotes are high enough, won't it naturally become a top comment?"
"But… we just checked. Each upvote costs 5 yuan!"
"Wha—?! 5 yuan per upvote?! Highway robbery! That could buy 500 upvotes normally!"
"Because… the troll boss I know also wants to see the follow-up to this series.
Praising comments cost 0.1 yuan per upvote.
But negative comments cost 5 yuan!"
"Damn it! Damn it! Su Chen!!!" Just as Scott was fuming with rage, a familiar sensation struck his backside.
"Ah! Not again?! What the hell did I eat?!"
With that, Scott clutched his stomach and bolted out of the office.
Once they confirmed Scott had disappeared down the hallway, the employees immediately started conspiring loudly.
"Hey, everyone, did you actually post those negative comments?"
"Pfft, deleted them ages ago! Kafka is just too cool!"
"Kafka?! Who's that?! The purple-haired actress?"
"You didn't know? Kafka used to be part of Tenghua too.
She left for some reason years ago.
But it's old news, so it makes sense you wouldn't know as a new hire."
"Wait, but if she was really an actress, there'd at least be records, right?
It's not like now, where the entire internet is scrambling to find any info on her!"
"Tch! Guess why she left? Rumor has it the company never let her act in a single project.
So unless you're an old-timer here, who'd even know her name?"
"Oh! That makes sense. But still weird—Kafka's so beautiful and talented, why wouldn't the company use her?"
"Beats me!"
——
Meanwhile, in an empty lot near the café.
Su Chen had been standing there for a long time.
Thanks to Wang and Lai's help, the PV he filmed had become a trending video.
Of course, Su Chen had also analyzed the data in detail.
As of now, views had surpassed 1 million and were still climbing.
Wang and Lai's Bilibili accounts had also gained tens of thousands of followers from the video.
A true "mutual success."
Moreover.
Su Chen had harvested a considerable amount of emotional value through the system.
But.
He was now facing a dilemma.
Staring at the dazzling array of options on the system interface, Su Chen began calculating:
According to the system's rules, as long as his videos elicited emotional reactions from viewers, he could convert that emotional value into points.
Emotions came in many forms—happiness, sadness, disappointment, excitement, anticipation, passion…
All of it counted.
The system would then convert the emotional value into points.
For example, A Short Scene had generated a lot of anticipation from viewers, translating to nearly 10,000 points.
Points could unlock system features, but there was so much to unlock.
The system was roughly divided into three sections.
First, the script interface.
Main story scripts would unlock automatically once certain point thresholds were met—no need to spend points.
This seemed generous, but it was a double-edged sword.
If points fell short, no amount of begging would unlock them.
One misstep in planning, and he'd be stuck.
Beyond the main story, side quests and companion missions from Honkai: Star Rail were also available as scripts.
Famous ones like To the Faint Star, character PVs, and Thousand-Star Journeys were all there.
But these scripts did require points to unlock.
The second section was scenes.
Nothing complicated here—it worked like a simulation game.
As long as he had land and enough space, he could deploy them.
However.
Unlocking scenes demanded massive amounts of points.
Finally, the third section was the simplest yet most complex.
Simple because the categories were clear—
Costumes, props, filming techniques, music production, lighting, editing, special effects… and so on.
Complex because every single technology could be upgraded.
For example, unlocking editing techniques could eventually evolve into "automatic system editing."
From then on, he'd just feed the raw footage to the system,
and it would deliver a polished product based on his vision!
No more overworking Silver Wolf.
But the most insane part was the props—after a few upgrades, he could even create monsters.
Since every reward the system offered was crucial,
every step from now on had to be taken carefully.
Before monetization, before accumulating enough capital,
not a single point could be wasted. Every move was all-or-nothing!
If he failed, he'd drag his entire team down with him!
"Sigh..."
Su Chen exhaled heavily into the sky.
He already had an idea in mind.
He'd spent hours combing through tens of thousands of comments.
Ignoring the bot-generated hate,
only about one-third discussed the special effects, themes, or plot theories—
whether the series would air, etc.
The remaining two-thirds were all talking about Kafka!
What the audience wants is what's best.
If they wanted to see Kafka, then he'd give them Kafka—
with everything he had!
With that, Su Chen spent his points to unlock what he needed.
After organizing everything, he sent Firefly a message.
"Firefly, please notify everyone to gather at the pinned location!"