The major game developers were bewildered by this timeframe. Producing a game in two months, even a mobile game, was an absurdly tight deadline.
When these game companies learned they didn't even have development tools, and that the game platform itself was still under development, forcing them to work with only a rough framework, they were stunned.
They requested a six-month extension, with an additional six months after the development tools were provided. However, the mobile phone manufacturers refused. They couldn't launch their game platform without any games.
Furthermore, waiting another six months would mean the market would be completely dominated by the Jiangnan Group, leaving them with nothing. Therefore, the mobile phone manufacturers were resolute: the games had to be ready around January.
Their reasoning was that the signed cooperation agreement stipulated delivery before the end of 2005. The game developers were exasperated. They had started negotiations in June, and a six-month timeframe to develop a mobile game seemed perfectly feasible then, so they signed.
However, due to payment issues, the mobile phone manufacturers had delayed the payment until October. They wouldn't proceed with development before receiving funds, resulting in them having only two months left, and the added burden of developing their own game tools.
With the cooperation agreement in place, the only way out for the major game developers was to pay a hefty penalty for breach of contract.
Considering this, the major game developers made their decision. Paying the penalty was out of the question, so they had to complete the game development within two months.
Although the timeline was incredibly tight, it wasn't impossible for mobile games. The contract specified mobile versions of popular IP games, but it didn't mandate that these games had to be direct ports of their PC or console counterparts. This was impossible given the processing power and graphical capabilities of mobile phones, so the contract allowed for adjustments based on device performance.
These companies only needed to adapt the games to a style where the graphics were essentially pixelated, character designs were guesswork, environments were minimal, the plot copied the originals, and content was heavily cut. With this approach, they figured they might just make the deadline.
Indeed, this strategy proved effective. Within just over a month, the mobile versions of the games were completed. After some testing and removal of the most glaring bugs, the games were considered ready.
However, upon seeing the final products, the major game developers were ashamed. They knew that if these games were associated with their IPs, fans would erupt in anger.
To protect their brands, they decided on a subtle tactic: the naming of the games.
Normal game titles followed formats like "XXX·X" or "XXX·XXX," such as "Resident Evil·1234567" or "Pokémon Red·Green," "Pearl·Diamond," indicating a continuation.
For the mobile games, however, they decided on names like "Resident Evil Slaughter Chronicle" or "Medal of Honor Special Operations." At first glance, these seemed like legitimate main series titles, but players knew they were spin-offs, not part of the regular game sequence.
Some even went to extremes, naming them directly after characters, like "Detective Claude," extracting a character and creating a game completely unrelated to the main story.
It was similar to how "Detective Pikachu" isn't considered a main entry in the Pokémon series.
This clever maneuver allowed them to distance these mobile versions from their core games. This way, if the games were poorly received, it wouldn't tarnish the reputation of their main titles.
This strategy proved highly effective. When these so-called sequels to major IPs appeared on the mobile game platform, players were utterly dismayed.
Players expecting a mobile shooter found "Medal of Honor Special Operations" to be a game where a pixelated character moved left and right, firing pixelated shots at equally pixelated enemies appearing on the other side of the screen.
"Resident Evil Slaughter Chronicle" was even more absurd, turning into a side-scrolling beat 'em up. Even as a side-scroller, if the gameplay was good, it might have been acceptable. But the problem was, it wasn't scary at all, completely losing the signature horror element of the Resident Evil series.
Worst of all, "Detective Claude" boasted an open world. In reality, it involved wandering through a world made entirely of pixels, searching for items to combine into tools to progress.
The search process lacked any skill or puzzle-like clues; players simply traversed the maps, interacting with everything. If touching an item made it disappear, it meant a key item had been found.
This was no longer a detective game, but a travel simulator.
Meanwhile, the mobile phone manufacturers were extremely confident in these games. The PC or console versions of these games typically ranged from $39 to $69.
They figured selling their mobile versions for $30 wouldn't be too expensive.
This was why the game center achieved over a million sales on its launch day. It wasn't due to a large number of buyers, but rather the high price, coupled with the willingness of die-hard fans to spend, resulting in those sales figures.
However, as players experienced these games, they could only utter one sentiment: "This is robbery."
"These bastards, we will never cooperate with them again! They will never be allowed onto our game platform!" Edward Zamp declared angrily. If anyone from these major game development companies were present, they would have gratefully clasped Edward Zamp's hand, agreeing that their sentiments were identical – they never wanted to cooperate with the game center again.
While they had profited several million dollars from this collaboration and made a quick buck, their reputation was utterly ruined.
Thus, they had very shrewdly created a distinction for these games, attempting to prevent them from being associated with their main titles and thus affecting their sales.
Undeniably, these games were developed by the game companies themselves, and the game center had used this as a selling point in its promotions. Otherwise, why would players be willing to pay tens of dollars for such mobile games?
Therefore, it was only natural that all the resentment was directed towards these major game developers. Although much of the blame lay with the mobile phone manufacturers for the poor development of the game platform, the players were unaware of this. In their actual experience, players were driven to despair by the games. Since these games were also developed by the major game companies, the problem was clearly theirs. All the anger was focused squarely on these developers, with a torrent of eloquent and colorful language that made the executives who decided to develop these games want to beg players for forgiveness.
It was highly unlikely that these major game developers would ever want to cooperate with the game center again.
"By the way, you mentioned that OO was targeting us. What have they done now?" Edward Zamp asked, taking a deep breath.
"When they heard our game platform was about to launch, they deliberately targeted us by releasing over 900 new games all at once to compete for market share!"
"One of them, a game called 'Link-Link,' with its eye-catching design, has indeed taken many users away from us. This game has the potential to become the next 'Angry Bird'," the person in charge said quietly.
"The next 'Angry Bird'?" Hearing this name, Edward Zamp's legs began to tremble. He still couldn't forget the astonishing impact of "Angry Bird" back then.
No one had an accurate count of how many players the game had attracted to the entire OO mobile game platform or how much money it had generated. It was known that over 80% of the platform's current users had been drawn in by the popularity of "Angry Bird."
And now, another game comparable to "Angry Bird" had emerged?
"God, are you trying to destroy me?" Edward Zamp sighed, looking up at the heavens.