Only After I Was Reborn Did I Realize That I Had Childhood Sweethearts

The time came to June of 2015. The flagship mobile gameFate/Grand Order, painstakingly crafted by Yuanxi Studio, finally debuted on the national server stage.

Prior to the launch of the open beta, this title had once been subjected to much criticism.

Because it had already been released on the Japanese server, some veteran players and industry insiders had already experienced the game content and delivered scathing reviews—

"Just a gacha game riding the coattails of the Fate IP to squeeze money."

"What a shame, Yuanxi Studio is no longer the Ximilu Games of old."

"The Journey of Clouds may end up being their swan song—'Child of Light' Mei Fang and his hundred-billion commercial empire."

A flood of dissatisfaction surged across many online platforms, even appearing in the bullet comments of promotional videos on Mei Fang's old stronghold, C Station. Mei Fang expressed understanding about this, but had no intention of making changes.

It's not like they were shooting a sci-fi movie—if they didn't rely on these IP works whose money-making abilities had already been proven in a past life, how were they supposed to chase their dreams?

Making games required considering practical matters, like making money—like the wages of hundreds of employees, their five insurances and two funds, team-building expenses, weekly Thursday afternoon tea breaks, commuting subsidies, housing subsidies, onboarding annuities, birthday gifts, group meal budgets, and so on and so forth…

Mei Fang was rubbing the screen in his CEO office when Xia Yuan leaned over to look at him and then disdainfully nudged his head from behind:

"Ah Fang, the server is about to go live. Why are you still playing the internal testing version? Hurry and get ready to play the public beta server."

"I'm just missing one last Dumb Egg, then I'll have collected them all. Almost there."

"Which Servant is Dumb Egg?"

"This one—Sakata Kintoki."

"You actually like this kind of ugly, non-mainstream character?"

"Full achievement is a kind of faith. Don't you get it? Just like those platinum trophies we hunt for on console games."

"You talk like that…" Xia Yuan rested her chin on Mei Fang's shoulder and mocked, "Didn't Youxi help you grind out most of those platinum trophies?"

"If my wife grinds them, that's no different from me doing it."

"Youxi's not even your wife yet. She's my wife right now."

After a bit of playful bickering between Xia Yuan and Mei Fang, Mei Fang dragged her into the ultra-cool space capsule gaming recliner he'd recently purchased out of his own pocket.

This custom-made space capsule featured an impressive three-seat, six-screen setup. The middle armrest could also be folded away. At this moment, Lin Youxi was napping to the side with an eye mask on. Hearing the ruckus, she stirred slightly, causing the two to freeze in fear, not even daring to breathe too loudly.

Even though FGO's server maintenance wasn't technically part of Lin Youxi's responsibilities, the server load was immense. As the Chief Technology Officer, she still had to keep a close eye on it.

Lin Youxi had been staying up with her tech team overnight fixing bugs, not getting any rest.

Xia Yuan and Mei Fang had also stayed late to keep her company. After Xia Yuan finished the Yuanbao livestream, she took a nap in Mei Fang's office. Mei Fang held on until late into the night but was eventually sent by Lin Youxi to accompany Xia Yuan.

By the time the two woke up, Lin Youxi hadn't yet slept. It wasn't until they repeatedly urged her that she finally agreed to get some rest.

"…We didn't wake Youxi up, did we?"

"Nope."

As they carefully observed Lin Youxi's reactions, Mei Fang habitually began to rub YuanYuan's soft belly:

"YuanYuan, speaking of which, when you were pressing down on me just now… I felt it… Have you gotten puffier again lately?"

"I think it's because you keep rubbing every day…"

Annoyed, Xia Yuan pinched Mei Fang's cheeks: "Didn't they say in some anime that some female leads gain volume that way?"

"You said it yourself—it's anime. Who'd believe that…"

"Anyway, stop getting carried away and always wanting to rub. You have to show some restraint."

Xia Yuan scolded Mei Fang: "It's fine duringdodotime, but don't make it a habit when we're just kissing. Even when we're just holding each other like this—it's not okay…"

"Okay, then I won't move anymore."

Mei Fang decisively withdrew his hands, which made Xia Yuan a little surprised:

"This time… why are you being so obedient? Didn't you used to whine and beg me for a long time?"

Mei Fang nodded and assumed a serious pose: "Because I think you're right. This is already good enough. YuanYuan, you can't get puffier anymore."

"Hmph…"

Xia Yuan glared at Mei Fang in irritation, then snatched his phone and started playing on his internal test account.

"Hey, Ah Fang, why not just ask the ops team to adjust the data for you? Why are you using Saint Quartz to draw?"

"I have to draw it myself, of course! I'm doing a livestream tonight to promote the game. Gotta warm up my luck."

"How's your luck when drawing cards?"

"I usually get the goods in 80 to 90 draws…"

"That's almost the hard pity limit, isn't it? Didn't you say ourFGOhas a 100-draw hard pity system for five-stars…"

"Well, nothing I can do about that. Maybe I used up all my life's luck when I met you and Youxi. So my gacha luck is pretty bad."

"Your football lottery win doesn't count as good luck? You cheeky brat."

Xia Yuan cursed Mei Fang with her mouth, but she was clearly delighted in her heart. As she spoke, she leaned in and gave him a kiss. "Say, Ah Fang, why don't we just tell players directly about the 100-draw pity system? That way they'll feel more assured, right? Why not go full RNG without a pity?"

"Gacha is inherently a superstitious kind of thing. If we go pure math with it, someone out there could draw a thousand or even ten thousand times without hitting a five-star."

"If someone's really that unlucky, then tough luck…"

"How could that be okay? Players are here to spend money and have fun, not to become clowns. These thousand-draw, ten-thousand-draw folks are our big whales. If they didn't like our game, they wouldn't spend that much money."

"If they draw that much and still don't get a dopamine hit, then it's our problem as game designers. We failed to serve them properly. Of course, I'm talking about typical gacha games. Our philosophy is different when we're doing indie single-player titles."

"So we need this pity system… But also we can't let them know they triggered the secret pity? Is it to protect their pride? So they don't realize they're super unlucky?"

"You could say that… But our domestic players are really smart. They usually figure these mechanisms out pretty quickly."

"Then aren't our efforts wasted?"

"Not necessarily. As long as the official side doesn't acknowledge it, then the mechanism doesn't 'exist.'"

Xia Yuan suddenly understood: "Ohhh! I get it now. As long as we don't tell players, then we can freely tweak things behind the scenes, right—?"

As Xia Yuan was speaking, Lin Youxi turned over and reached out, seemingly feeling around. Mei Fang immediately extended his hand to hold hers, calming her down so she could rest more peacefully—at the same time, he used his other hand to cover Xia Yuan's mouth. Once Lin Youxi settled again, he slowly let go.

"You could say it's about tweaking things behind the scenes, but that's more common in general games. Our company's not that shameless. We'd never go that far. See, 100-draw hard pity is a number that's easy to calculate. So we try to control the pity trigger using RNG, or it'd lack suspense."

If the secret pity system is randomized within a certain range, then the player won't know if they hit the five-star due to pity or through sheer luck. The hidden pity mechanism becomes harder to observe, which can also reduce a player's sense of despair over being "unlucky."

"Random number… So it doesn't have to be 100 draws? It could be like, 101?"

"Absolutely not 101. Only 99."

Mei Fang explained to Xia Yuan: "Never let a player's gacha result fall below their expectations or what they've learned from the community. Otherwise they'll think we secretly nerfed the rates today, then again tomorrow, and they'll be flaming us on the forums every day."

"That… does sound annoying…"

Xia Yuan sighed. "Sigh, these player lords are really hard to please."

"You're trying to earn their money. If you don't serve them well, how will that work?"

Mei Fang stroked Xia Yuan's head. "We're making money, yeah—but let's not look too greedy doing it. If we get a bad reputation, it'll be hard to do business later."

"That's true. Especially since a lot ofFGOplayers are students. We should stay ethical…"

"YuanYuan's so righteous! Let me check that kind heart again!"

"Didn't we just say no random rubbing!"

"I'm just touching it for luck. I have to draw on stream later. YuanYuan, YuanYuan, my dear YuanYuan, you don't want me to pull a sky full of blue cards and get roasted by the audience, right?"

"Ugh, fine… If it's for the company…"

On the day FGO launched its open beta, Mei Fang demonstrated the drop rates live on stream. His first ten-pull produced three golden cards—Gilgamesh, Artoria Pendragon, and Jeanne d'Arc—all five-stars, and the screen was flooded with the bullet comment:

【And you still say you're not a luck shill?!】

Countless players went wild.

Immediately after, Mei Fang generously handed out 30 free Saint Quartz pulls and one additional selectable four-star Servant as compensation, and the online masses instantly acted as if nothing had happened.

FGO's servers experienced a brief slowdown within the first 10 minutes of launch but remained stable afterward. Thanks to the tireless efforts of all involved, the game raked in an astonishing 50 million yuan in revenue on its first day, soaring straight to No.1 on the iOS top-grossing charts.