下载大智慧经典版

Eighteen hours of flight time left everyone thoroughly exhausted; even walking on the ground, one could still feel a slight tumultuous sensation.

A domestic flight attendant politely escorted everyone onto the shuttle bus. Just as she turned to go tidy up, she almost fell with a twist of her foot but was gently steadied by a man in his fifties.

“Thank you,” said the flight attendant, still shaken.

“You’re welcome,” the old man replied fluently in Mandarin.

His Mandarin was very authentic, without the common Prussian accent. If one were just listening to his voice, they might not even realize he was a foreigner.

But upon seeing him, one could tell he must be particularly fond of pandas.

He wore a panda sun hat, carried a panda backpack, and his clothes also displayed panda patterns. Even the tourist manual in his hands was an introduction to the Panda Breeding Base.

After sitting in the shuttle bus and continuing to browse the manual, he picked up his luggage upon arrival and spent a long time at the exit, but could not spot the familiar Mediterranean-bald head.

Looking around in confusion, it took him quite a while to spot someone holding a large sign with his name “Hoffman” in the crowd.

The sign holder looked somewhat familiar, resembling his old buddy Mr. Shen, but his old friend shouldn’t have had so much hair.

While he was pondering who the person was, the sign holder approached, complaining as he walked, “Hoffman, you see me, yet you have no reaction at all.”

Hoffman remained wary of the creature resembling Mr. Shen in front of him.

Facial features, similar…

Sense of style, similar…

Voice, similar…

Amount of hair, not similar.

Stepping back, he asked cautiously, “Who are you, and how do you know my name?”

“Stop joking around,” Mr. Shen replied helplessly. “It’s me, Shen.”

“My dear friend Shen didn’t have this much hair.”

“Well, people change,” Shen responded.

“You once said that hair transplant was your last stand and that you would never wear a wig.”

“It’s not a wig or a toupee; it’s all me. Alright, you just want to play this joke, right? We’re done with “Gintama”; let’s go,” Shen insisted.

Only then did Hoffman warmly embrace Mr. Shen, afterward looking at Shen’s hair with astonishment, realizing for the first time that it was indeed possible for a human to vanquish baldness.

Mr. Shen’s hair now was like the chives from Fang Cheng: dignified, upright, each strand proudly puffing out its chest, displaying its robust stature.

After looking for a while, Hoffman remarked appreciatively, “Not bad…”

“Right?” Mr. Shen touched his hair, proud yet careful. “Okay, where to next? Just to tell you, the Panda Breeding Base is a no-go; I didn’t book it for you.”

“I see…” said Hoffman, seemingly resigned.

“And we can’t have hotpot just yet; it’s too early. I’ll mention it again later…” Shen added.

“I see,” Hoffman repeated.

His own plans seen through, Hoffman didn’t feel too awkward; instead, he said directly, “Let’s go to Fang Cheng Studio first.”

“Sure, let me just give a heads-up,” Shen offered.

“No need, we’ll just take a distant look. Shen, you have an old saying: ‘Suspect before you trust.’ Even if they are your students, I won’t be overly considerate. If I dislike their way of doing things, I will leave immediately. The game publishing matter, I will find someone else to handle it, but I won’t help out,” Hoffman declared.

“No problem,” Shen confidently replied. “Let’s go.”

They got into a ride-hailing car, with Hoffman resting with his eyes closed in the back seat and Shen sitting beside him, not contacting Fang Cheng.

Shen knew his old friend Hoffman was a principled old man, who also happened to be the vice-chair of the Prussian gaming industry’s labor union, and had an absolute distaste for overtime in the gaming industry.

Exploitation was severe in the gaming industry, both domestically and abroad.

The industry has a significant emotional component, and many international game studios often use the “powered by passion” approach to subject their employees to unpaid overtime.

Furthermore, developers abroad often have a strong influence. Some of them talk about giving juniors better learning opportunities, but in reality, by oppressing and inducing unpaid overtime, they brainwash the juniors into believing they’re doing it for their good.

Since games are usually backed by sizeable capital, individual power is minimal against capital; hence, the game developers union is an organization striving to unite gaming professionals worldwide, aiming to form a group capable of standing up to capital.

This organization has branches in Europe and Americas, but the domestic front remains a blank slate with no one involved yet.

Traveling from Shuangliu Airport to the High-tech Zone, they reached their destination around four fifty.

After depositing their luggage at the service desk of a nearby mall, Hoffman saw that the indoor plaza floor was lined with arcade machines, their external screens looping through game footage, which looked quite exhilarating.

There were people waiting outside the machines, and they all seemed familiar. At the moment, they were harmoniously discussing the usage of different machines.

Although Hoffman was now in his early fifties and many exhilarating games were beyond him, he still enjoyed watching streamers play these types of games, nodding frequently at the gameplay.