On the day of The Cases of Di Renjie’s launch on June 20, during the peak evening hours, Qihang’s operations director excitedly reported to Luo Hang, “President Luo, the concurrent online player count for our new game has broken past 8 million!”

The number of online players on launch day was a direct reflection of a production company’s influence and the market draw of a game’s IP.

For The Cases of Di Renjie, the IP draw was practically non-existent. Players didn’t know who Di Renjie was, and the game lacked any prior mobile adaptations to build a baseline audience. The vast majority of players had logged in solely because of the “Yangfan + Qihang” brand name.

Their previous holographic game, Palace Storm, had garnered an excellent reputation. Consequently, players had immense faith in the new title born of this partnership. Regardless of what the actual content was, they were determined to log in and try it out—a highly promising phenomenon.

Xie Yunfan had always strictly overseen the development process, remaining steadfast in creating high-quality, genuinely entertaining games. While this approach might not yield explosive, short-term fortunes, it was incredibly beneficial for the company’s long-term growth. At the very least, games produced by Yangfan Studio had already become synonymous with “excellent games” in the minds of players.

Luo Hang contacted Xie Yunfan to share the good news of breaking 8 million concurrent players.

Xie Yunfan was delighted to hear it. Catching the background murmur of employee chatter over the line, he asked, “President Luo, are you still at the office?” It was already past 8:00 PM; had Luo Hang still not clocked out?

Luo Hang replied in a low voice, “I’m staying over at the office tonight. This is our first multiplayer online game, so we can’t afford any server issues. With me on the ground, we can resolve any emergencies immediately.”

He was truly a workaholic, anchoring himself at the company during every single open beta. Thinking back to his own past life, Xie Yunfan let out a soft sigh and said, “Thank you for your hard work. Keep an eye on your health too, and catch some sleep if everything stays quiet.”

Luo Hang offered a slight smile. “Don’t worry, my office has an attached rest area.”

“Alright,” Xie Yunfan said. “I’ll go check out the online reviews then. We still have a promotional event to run tonight.”

After hanging up, Xie Yunfan opened his laptop.

For this launch, the official forum for The Cases of Di Renjie employed dedicated moderators to promptly delete any posts containing spoilers. The Weibo Super Topic community also had official head moderators patrolling to scrub malicious flame bait and plot leaks. Thanks to this highly responsible moderation, the open beta’s first day proceeded without any massive, game-ruining spoilers.

Over in the Super Topic community, countless players were actively tweeting about their experiences:

“I’ve only played The Fortune Inn so far. It’s my first time playing this genre, and it is incredibly thrilling! Highly recommended!”

“The holographic version of a murder mystery script is like starring in a suspense film yourself. I wasn’t used to it at first, but once I got into character, I felt my acting skills getting sharper by the minute, hahaha! Can’t wait for the upcoming scripts!”

“I’ve played both beginner-tier scripts, and I personally prefer Red Maple Villa. I had goosebumps the entire time, to the point I kept cursing out of sheer fright. I completely failed to guess the killer at the end. Blew it~”

“I’m planning to try the intermediate-tier script tomorrow. I wonder what kind of story The Embroidered Shoes will be with a five-star horror rating? So curious!”

“Playing this feels like starring in a thriller. The three-hour session is completely immersive, with flawless costumes, props, settings, and music. The only thing is, knowing the killer is sitting right next to you is a bit terrifying~”

“We had a veteran carrying our session. As a total newbie, I thought his deductions made perfect sense, so I followed his lead during voting the whole time. In the end, it turned out he was the killer. Holy crap!!!”

“Where is the basic trust between human beings? Di Renjie is telling you straight up: do not trust anyone.”

“I’m a bit of a coward, so I only played The Fortune Inn. Watching the plot recap at the end scared me half to death, sob. This kind of game isn’t for me. Are there any less terrifying scripts? Maybe ones that don’t revolve around murder?”

The sheer volume of user posts was staggering.

Passing netizens who hadn’t played yet saw the fervent discussions and couldn’t help but wonder, What kind of game is this exactly?

Some questioned: “I keep hearing you guys talk about killers, voting, and murder. Do players actually have to murder people in the game? That sounds way too horrific!”

Others expressed concern: “Are there a ton of bloody, terrifying murder scenes in this game? I barely dare to watch mystery films. Won’t looking at murder scenes in a holographic game give you nightmares?”

“An 18+ game with gore, murder, and deductions? That’s pretty heavy stuff!”

“People with twisted mindsets must find it incredibly satisfying to murder people in-game without facing legal repercussions. Thinking about it that way makes it even scarier, holy crap!”

“Back then, Wings of Dream’s Home in the City got flagged and shut down for modifications because its car crash scenes were too realistic and traumatizing for players. Why did Yangfan Studio’s holographic murder game pass censorship?”

“I find it bizarre too. Car crashes are banned, but murder is fine? Isn’t censorship displaying a massive double standard? Even for an 18+ game, when you murder someone in a holographic space, you are still killing a ‘person’ played by an actual player!”

A barrage of skepticism from non-players began flooding the Super Topic.

After all, a holographic “murder game” did sound inherently violent and bloody. Would playing something like this leave psychological scars on the players—whether they were the ones committing the act or the victims?

Seeing these remarks begin to ferment, Xie Yunfan immediately directed the public relations department to post an announcement on the official website:

“Dear players of The Cases of Di Renjie, we will be hosting a livestream tonight from 21:00 to 22:00 to demonstrate the core gameplay loop. Anyone with questions regarding the game is welcome to tune in.”

This promotional livestream was a move Xie Yunfan had prepared well in advance. Since The Cases of Di Renjie strictly prohibited streamers from broadcasting individual sessions to avoid spoilers, players who hadn’t tried it yet would naturally be clueless about the actual gameplay. They might even worry about whether they truly had to commit or endure murder.

In his past life, offline murder mystery games didn’t face this issue because the “corpses” were merely props—in fact, many script stores didn’t use props at all, relying entirely on the gamemaster’s verbal descriptions. However, for the holographic version, Xie Yunfan had rendered the environments to be incredibly realistic.

The advantage was that an immersive experience dramatically heightened the players’ sense of investment. With atmospheric music, striking environments, and tailored costumes, players felt as if they were genuinely standing in a crime scene, driving the tension to its absolute maximum.

But the disadvantage was that if the murder scenes were too graphic, players could easily suffer genuine psychological discomfort after experiencing them firsthand. Xie Yunfan had deliberated on how to handle the execution of the murders during development for a long time before finally settling on an appropriate compromise.

At 8:40 PM, the official Weibo account for The Cases of Di Renjie dropped the livestream link. Countless players waiting for an official response swarmed into the broadcast room.

The viewers quickly recognized a familiar face appearing on screen—wasn’t this Yangfan Studio’s chief designer, Sailboat?

The bullet chat instantly lit up with enthusiastic greetings:

[Sailboat is out here doing business again!]

[Hahaha, being a designer is tough. Not only do you have to go bald making the game, you even have to stream to explain how to play it.]

[Handsome, are you trying to drive the rest of the gaming industry out of a job?~]

[President Luo isn’t here today? Aren’t you two doing a joint stream?]

[I haven’t had time to play the new game yet. I’ll decide whether to jump in after watching this explanation. The criticisms online make it sound pretty terrifying…]

Within mere minutes of the link going live, the concurrent viewer count breached one million.

At 9:00 PM sharp, the stream officially commenced.

Xie Yunfan spoke up: “Good evening, everyone. I am Sailboat, the chief designer of The Cases of Di Renjie. Tonight’s stream is to introduce the gameplay mechanics to you all. First, let’s take a look at a demonstration recording of a standard game session.”

A video materialized on the broadcast screen.

It showcased a streamlined, four-player version of a script session. As the game opened, four players were matched into a room to draw their hidden roles.

Xie Yunfan explained, “Drawing roles is the very first phase of the game. The character you draw is the persona you must roleplay for the remainder of the session, and the system will provide you with comprehensive background files regarding your identity. Since we are currently in spectator mode, we can see that Players A, B, and C have drawn innocent roles, while Player D has drawn the killer.”

Next, Player D received a massive volume of specialized information.

Xie Yunfan continued, “The killer’s faction has the fewest numbers and is at a disadvantage during voting rounds. However, they possess their own edge—they hold far more information. Therefore, don’t panic if you draw the killer. First, the system will provide prompts on your next steps. Second, while this is a deduction game, we do not require players to physically commit murder within the game space.”

“The act of murder itself is detailed extensively during the final plot recap at the very end of the session. During active gameplay, the night of the murder is quickly skipped over. The system will merely inform you whom you killed and how you killed them; you do not need to perform the deed yourself. You don’t have to worry about this aspect at all. Our game emphasizes the deduction process, rather than forcing players to experience what it feels like to take a life.”

Hearing this, a collective sigh of relief swept through the audience.

Committing murder in a holographic game—whether by administering poison or driving a blade through someone’s chest—felt fundamentally indistinguishable from doing it in the real world. After all, player models in holographic games looked exactly like real, living human beings. How could anyone bring themselves to strike?

Allowing the system to gloss over the act and auto-generate the crime scene made playing the killer vastly more palatable for users.

The video pressed on, showing the four players introducing their roles to one another. During the first night, an NPC passed away. The following morning, the players began their deductions. Di Renjie entered the scene to guide the voting process, and the player who accumulated the most votes in the first round was eliminated.

Xie Yunfan explained, “The game features a clue-searching phase and a voting phase. Di Renjie serves as our legendary detective in-game, guiding players through the structural flow. Try to search for clues as meticulously as possible during the investigation phase. During voting, you can choose to lay low and cast a safe follow-up vote to preserve your own survival, or you can actively step forward to highlight contradictions you’ve uncovered and cast your vote against your prime suspect.”

“Your final score correlates with the number of rounds you survive; the longer you remain in play, the higher your points. If the innocent faction manages to vote out the killer in the very first round, they receive a point multiplier. Conversely, if the killer survives to the absolute end, their points are doubled as well.”

The players who had been hesitating completely cast aside their apprehensions upon hearing this explanation.

In essence, the core loop of a script session was quite similar to Werewolf. The only difference was that holographic script sessions offered rich, narrative narratives where everyone could don tailored costumes and deduce cases within lifelike environments, vastly enhancing immersion. The killer didn’t have to execute anyone firsthand; the game prioritized analytical reasoning. It was effectively a collective detective experience to unmask the culprit.

By the time he finished explaining the gameplay loop, it was exactly 9:30 PM. Xie Yunfan transitioned the screen to a promotional graphic displaying a variety of script posters and said, “Some players have mentioned that they are easily frightened and wouldn’t dare to try high-horror scripts. In truth, our script catalog features a highly diverse array of genres.”

“We offer horror-thriller scripts, suspense-mind-bend scripts, and heartwarming-emotional scripts. Every single script has its horror level explicitly labeled, peaking at six stars. The thriller and horror scripts naturally revolve around murders or serial killers, featuring an eerie atmosphere. We advise faint-hearted players against trying them lightly.”

“As for the suspense-mind-bend scripts, aside from murder mysteries, several are mechanism-focused. For instance, players must cooperate to bypass mechanical traps and escape a designated setting—essentially a holographic escape room. Others involve searching for hidden treasures within an ancient tomb or completing specific tasks assigned by the system. These scripts lean heavily into pure entertainment, making them perfect for casual players.”

“Our emotional scripts cover stories centered on romance, friendship, and family bonds. It functions essentially like a group of players co-starring in a two-to-three-hour short drama. We possess an extensive library of scripts, allowing everyone to select the exact genre that appeals to them. Moving forward, our development team intends to operate this title over the long term by introducing a fresh batch of new scripts every single month.”

Xie Yunfan was incredibly patient throughout his walkthrough. Once he finished speaking, the audience’s enthusiasm for the new title was thoroughly ignited.

Who said a script session had to be about murder? That was thinking too small! A holographic script session was fundamentally a “multiplayer role-playing game with a fixed narrative.” That narrative could be a terrifying murder mystery, a poignant emotional tale, or an intense escape game. The exact content rested entirely on how the writing team penned it.

Furthermore, Xie Yunfan stated that the development team would update scripts on a monthly basis. From the looks of it, The Cases of Di Renjie was set to become Yangfan Studio’s very first long-term live-service title! As long as there were engaging scripts available, players could keep coming back indefinitely.

Once the livestream wrapped up, the Super Topic community exploded into a frenzy, with user posts surfacing continuously:

“After listening to Sailboat’s explanation, my heart is completely at ease. Glossing over the actual murder scene takes away all the psychological pressure. Honestly, playing the killer’s side sounds even more thrilling!”

“I feel like The Cases of Di Renjie is built to last. Leaving a tweet right here to log my progress; I’ll come back in a year to see how vibrant it still is ^^”

“Updating scripts every single month means that as long as the writing team doesn’t run dry on inspiration, they’ll have an infinite supply of stories to tell, right? I personally love this format—each script is a self-contained story, so you can drop the game whenever you’re busy and pick it right back up whenever you want.”

Games that required continuous grinding and leveling up felt impossible to keep up with if a player logged off for a while; daily quests would fall behind, and rewards would be permanently missed. Sometimes, a business trip or preparing for a postgraduate exam forced players to drop a game entirely.

But a script session was entirely different. Even if you didn’t log in for half a year, you could match into a fresh session the moment you returned. With so many updated scripts available, you could simply select whichever one caught your fancy. For players, gaming was merely a leisure activity for their spare time; it shouldn’t feel like a chore.

Xie Yunfan’s stream achieved spectacular results. He hadn’t spent a single dime purchasing ad space, yet during the broadcast, both #TheCasesOfDiRenjie and #SailboatLivestreamBusiness trended directly onto the hot search boards.

The topics camped on the hot search charts for four hours, amassing over 200 million reads. Countless on-the-fence onlookers expressed a sudden willingness to give this novel genre a try.

Although Coolplay had recently launched their multiplayer online title, The Age of Discovery, its core loop remained anchored in the traditional “team up to clear dungeons” framework. In contrast, The Cases of Di Renjie introduced a vastly fresher approach to gameplay. A multiplayer holographic script session didn’t just offer detective work to unmask a killer; it provided diverse mechanical and recreational instances tailored to fit different player segments.

Of course, The Age of Discovery possessed a far more deeply rooted IP influence, attracting a massive player base that enjoyed charting uncharted seas and collecting maritime beasts—a demographic that didn’t necessarily clash with fans of script sessions.

A week later, a prominent gaming blogger compiled the revenue figures for both titles. Coolplay’s The Age of Discovery raked in over 100 million yuan on its launch day, and The Cases of Di Renjie matched that feat, crossing the 100-million-yuan mark on day one as well.

Subsequently, because The Age of Discovery launched a limited-time pirate ship model sale, its revenue experienced a massive surge. Meanwhile, over on The Cases of Di Renjie, once players cast aside their misgivings following Sailboat’s personal gameplay walkthrough, its revenue doubled as well. Within a single week of hitting the market, both games comfortably breached 500 million yuan in total revenue.

Online, plenty of users engaged in tribalistic comparison threads, with claims like “The Cases of Di Renjie is boring, The Age of Discovery is way more satisfying to play” or “The Age of Discovery is mindless, The Cases of Di Renjie is far more thrilling.”

However, the active players on both sides barely paid attention to these flame wars. The genres were completely different, and players were entirely free to enjoy whatever they pleased. There were even plenty of “dual players” who dipped their toes into both worlds, enjoying two entirely distinct flavors of entertainment.

As for who was so incredibly idle that they spent every single day stirring up toxicity and engineering comparison threads? The executives at both Coolplay and Qihang knew the answer full well—it was naturally Wings of Dream, who had failed to secure a seat at the table during this multiplayer online commercial battle. They were practically burning with anxiety!

One morning, Luo Hang paid a visit to Xie Yunfan to share a peculiar trend highlighted by the operations team—the player data for The Cases of Di Renjie was displaying an unusual pattern of fluctuations.

The game had launched to 8 million concurrent users, which surged past 10 million the following day due to the massive success of Sailboat’s promotional stream. Yet, over the subsequent Monday through Friday, that figure plummeted straight down to 4 million, only to skyrocket right back up to 8 million on Saturday and Sunday…

This kind of roller-coaster curve was something their previous titles had never exhibited. When the retention rate first took that steep dive during the weekdays, Luo Hang had been gripped by anxiety, worrying that the game had suffered a critical bug. Why had half the player base suddenly vanished?

Yet the moment the weekend arrived, the players flooded back in droves…

Xie Yunfan chuckled. “That’s because our game doesn’t feature daily quests or daily check-in rewards. Once you finish a script session, that’s it. Players don’t feel compelled to log in every single day; they only open the Qihang Pod when they actively want to play a session.”

Luo Hang fell into contemplative thought. “So this game functions more like a pure leisure activity. You play it when you’re free, and it doesn’t penalize you if you leave it aside when you’re busy. No wonder the weekend numbers skyrocket while weekdays cut clean in half… It seems we’ve attracted a massive demographic of working professionals?”

Xie Yunfan nodded. “That’s exactly how script sessions work. White-collar workers and university students form our core consumer force. As long as we retain their loyalty, we won’t have to worry about our game losing momentum during long-term operations.”

After all, this title currently faced zero competition or alternatives in the market. If players wanted to experience a script session, their sole option was to boot up a Qihang Game Pod.

Luo Hang’s expression suddenly turned grave as he added, “By the way, Yunfan, The Cases of Di Renjie is entirely locked into an ancient historical setting, which imposes certain limitations. I believe we need to strike while the iron is hot and fast-track the development of our broader derivative spin-off, Holographic Script Sessions.”

Xie Yunfan blinked in surprise. “The game just launched. Do we really need to rush it this much?”

Luo Hang offered a helpless sigh. “It’s not that I’m impatient; I’m worried our competitors will be. Right now, our gameplay loop enjoys a complete monopoly in the market. But what if another company decides to clone a similar Script Session title? It will dilute our player base.”

Xie Yunfan caught on instantly. Luo Hang was absolutely right. Wings of Dream had been left entirely out in the cold during this latest round of holographic online gaming wars; they were bound to be frantic. With Wings of Dream’s technical prowess and deep capital reserves, developing a multiplayer online framework wouldn’t take them very long.

A script session was, at its core, merely a format of gameplay. If Wings of Dream immediately greenlit a project to produce a modern-day variant like “Detective XX” or “Escape Room XX”—as long as the underlying mechanics were identical while the lore, character assets, and script contents remained original—it wouldn’t constitute copyright infringement.

While Xie Yunfan preferred a measured pace, he couldn’t ignore Luo Hang’s valid concerns. If they moved too slowly and allowed their industry peers to seize the first-mover advantage, they would lose their edge. It was far better to establish the project early.

With that thought in mind, Xie Yunfan immediately agreed, “Alright, let’s pull our timeline forward. We’ll greenlight the development framework for Holographic Script Sessions this very week.”

Luo Hang suggested, “It’s best to launch the official website as soon as possible and drop a teaser trailer to announce to the public that development has already commenced. That way, even if our peers attempt to copy us, it will be impossible for them to hit the market ahead of us.”

Xie Yunfan nodded. “Makes sense. I’ll have the animation department put together a promotional teaser first. We’ll let players know that aside from the ancient cases led by Di Renjie, a modern-day version is on the horizon. Furthermore, we’ll even open up a creation pipeline for players to submit their own content.”

Though shifting the schedule forward meant a grueling workload, they had to pick up the pace to safeguard their creative concepts from being poached by competitors.

Two days later, Xie Yunfan called a meeting with the design team to formally place Holographic Script Sessions onto the active schedule. Since the core mechanics of both titles were practically identical, the programming code and stage parameters could be modified directly from the existing framework. The crucial bottleneck lay entirely within the script content itself.

The writing team had just wrapped up the next five scripts slated for The Cases of Di Renjie‘s upcoming update. Hearing that their boss now wanted to expand into modern-day scripts, several writers felt an immediate headache coming on. How could they possibly manage this workload?

Xie Yunfan held a private meeting with the writing team to steady their morale: “You don’t need to worry. We prioritize quality over sheer volume. I’m well aware that the writing department is understaffed right now, so I will ensure we recruit fresh talent to reinforce the team as quickly as possible.”

He looked toward Ye Xiang and instructed, “For the current phase, keep your primary focus anchored on updating The Cases of Di Renjie. We’ll dive into writing the modern-day scripts next month once our new hires are on board.”

Ye Xiang finally let out a sigh of relief, asking, “Boss, when do we plan to launch the new game? And how many scripts do we need to prepare for launch?”

Xie Yunfan replied, “We’re aiming for a release around the end of the year. Having around a dozen scripts ready at launch will suffice, as we will be opening up the user-generated creation pipeline simultaneously. Moving forward, once we begin purchasing the rights to player-submitted scripts, the creative burden on our writing team will lighten dramatically.”

The single greatest scarcity for a script-killing game was a continuous stream of creative, engaging narratives. The creative bandwidth of their internal writing team was bound to hit a ceiling eventually. By opening up a submission channel for the player base, an immense pool of talented creators would join their ranks.

Once the players’ enthusiasm was mobilized, specialized script-writing studios or prominent master authors would surface, generating a steady income entirely through their narratives. All Yangfan Studio needed to do was establish a dedicated copyright department to handle purchasing the rights to these scripts—whether through flat buyouts or profit-sharing models—tailored to the specific quality of the submission.

Xie Yunfan’s strategy instantly cleared their strategic bottleneck. Moving forward, exceptional scripts would pour in like an endless stream. Operating the game seamlessly for years to come would no longer be an issue.