Starry Sky Railway: Opening Performance - Taixu Sword God

The female manager's smile remained flawless, but a very subtle hint of helplessness flashed in her eyes:

"Mr. Yan Huan has misunderstood. This is just a fun simulation based on historical events, designed to give guests a deeper understanding of the development of Grand Event Star. The benefits and decisions are not related to reality."

"Really?"

Yan Huan's finger was already hovering over the icon, clearly itching to use it.

Just then, a male waiter, also dressed in a stardust uniform but with a more composed demeanor, silently appeared beside the table, carrying an exquisite ice crystal tray.

Two drinks were placed on the tray.

One cup is a special blend of Taro Boba, radiating a dreamy purple glow, adorned with glistening taro pearls and boba balls, and served with a shimmering straw.

The other glass was a dark drink served in a frosted obsidian glass, garnished with a mint leaf and a miniature, pixelated game controller-shaped chocolate—clearly Yan Huan's.

"Miss March 7th, here's your star taro boba."

The waiter gently placed the dreamy drink on the small floating tea table in front of March 7, and the tea table automatically extended from the edge of the tabletop.

"Wow! Thank you! I didn't expect you guys to make such high-quality Star Taro Boba!"

March 7th cheered and immediately picked up the stunningly beautiful drink. He brought the straw to his lips, took a careful sip, and his eyes instantly narrowed into crescent moons of happiness.

"Mmm! Delicious! It's icy cold, sweet but not cloying, and has bouncy tapioca pearls and boba!"

The waiter then placed Yan Huan's cup on a small tray of the same material extending from the armrest of his wheelchair:

"Mr. Yan Huan, this is the 'Pixel Black Tide' prepared for you, with an espresso base and a specially blended flavored syrup. I hope you like it."

The pixelated game controller chocolate was incredibly lifelike.

Yan Huan glanced at the refreshing-looking drink, then looked at the chocolate.

"Wow, you're even doing custom orders, huh?"

He reached out and picked up the chocolate, taking a bite out of half of the 'handle' as the rich chocolate flavor melted in his mouth.

On March 7th, sucking on a straw, his cheeks bulging, he mumbled indistinctly:

"Yan, stop eating chocolate and hurry up and choose a game."

"Is there even a choice?"

Yan Huan popped the remaining half of the chocolate into her mouth and pointed her finger at the icon for rebuilding Pinocchio.

"There's only one answer: I'll show you what a true business genius is."

The floating desktop instantly transforms, as countless torrents of dazzling data flood in, constructing a miniature, light-and-shadow-filled Pinocene holographic model.

Yan Huan's fingers flew across and clicked rapidly on the scrolling desktop.

The holographic model then decomposes and reassembles, with icons and data streams representing resources, buildings, and tourists cascading down like a waterfall.

"Here, first demolish that money-losing Pinocchio Grand Theatre, and build a giant arcade on the spot, with all items starting at 999 credits…!"

"Outsource the security system to Interstellar Peace Company? No way, too expensive. Let those entertainers work as security guards, they're just sitting around doing nothing anyway."

"The cost of bubble balloons is too high. If we use regular balloons, print advertisements on them, and collect sponsorship fees..."

"Triple the price of the diamond suite? Tsk, that's too small-minded. Just auction it off directly, the highest bidder wins, and create a limited run of ten units to create scarcity."

Yan Huan muttered to herself as she operated the device, speaking rapidly and displaying a unique way of thinking.

March 7th, holding his drink, stared in disbelief, occasionally interjecting with a comment:

"Hey! Isn't turning Chaolu Mansion into a public toilet a bit too much?!"

The female manager stood a short distance away, maintaining a professional smile, but the corner of her mouth seemed to twitch almost imperceptibly.

The holographic model on the floating desktop changed rapidly under Yan Huan's clutches, with all sorts of outrageous reconstruction schemes being proposed and simulated.

Then a huge red warning pops up because of a bursting fiscal deficit or a plummeting tourist satisfaction.

'--fail!'

"Huh? How is that possible? Do you board game companies even understand business?"

On the floating desktop, the miniature Pinocchio light and shadow model trembled violently under Yan Huan's control.

On March 7th, holding a taro bubble tea, she forgot to suck on the straw, her pink eyes wide open.

Watching the bar charts representing tourist satisfaction and financial revenue and expenditure on the holographic projection plummet like an avalanche, eventually crashing through the virtual crust and turning into a blinding scarlet.

"Ha, your business acumen is not as good as mine." March 7th sneered.

"If I were in charge, I guarantee that this star of the event would flourish."

In the center of the desktop, a huge red warning '—Failure!' flashes.

Accompanied by a simulated, extremely perfunctory 'BOOM' sound effect, the entire miniature Pinocchio model instantly disintegrated into a chaotic data stream, then slowly reassembled back to its initial state, as if silently mocking Yan Huan's business acumen.

"Tsk."

Yan Huan clicked her tongue, looking unconvinced, picked up the Pixel Black Tide cup and took a big gulp, the dark liquid almost spilling from the corner of her mouth.

"What business knowledge do you have for board games? My solution is clearly efficient and generates revenue. There must be something wrong with the data you've adjusted in the backend."

He unceremoniously shifted the blame to the hotel system, but his finger stubbornly tapped the 'Rebuild Pinocone' icon again, preparing to start a new round of destructive reconstruction.

The female manager stood a few steps away, her perfect professional smile seemingly welded to her face.

His gaze seemed to momentarily drift away, focusing on a distant, floating memory balloon, as if he were taking a brief mental break.

"You're coming again?!"

March 7th quickly put down his drink and reached out his free hand to try and stop Yan Huan's restless fingers.

"Stop messing around, it's my turn to play now."

Chapter 1502 What about the Clock Boy?

"If you continue rebuilding, Pinocone will become an interstellar junkyard."

"What do you know?" Yan Huan dodged her hand, her fingers already tapping on the movable tabletop again.

"You think landfills don't make money? The owners are much richer than you."

"That was a strategic mistake; let's try a different approach this time."

"Instead of demolishing the Grand Theatre, turn it into a super-expensive foot massage parlor called 'Robin's Mansion.' It's guaranteed to make money."

As he spoke, he quickly selected the Grand Theater in the model, dragged its icon, and changed it into a virtual building with flickering lights that looked rather unhealthy.

"I'll kill you if I see this on Sunday..."

On March 7th, he watched helplessly as Yan Huan crossed out a large portion of the originally planned administrative area in the model and marked it with the words 'VIP luxury cemetery, auspicious location, starting bid 100 million credits'.

"Is this correct?" March 7th frowned slightly.

"This is called optimal resource allocation, making full use of the value of space." Yan Huan was very satisfied.

"As for outsourcing security... I now think it's a bit too low-level."

"Directly introduce a survival challenge mode, letting tourists act as their own security guards. Reward hotel points for catching terrorists, zero cost and high returns."

He entered the absurd command "Everyone is a soldier, self-service security" into the security system field.

The data stream began processing frantically again.

The tourist satisfaction icon had barely appeared before it plunged into negative territory, while the fiscal revenue and expenditure line shot straight up like a rocket.

Unfortunately, it's a negative value rocket representing a deficit, with the value instantly breaking through the skyline, followed by a long string of zeros.

This time, the sound effect of failure was louder and more exaggerated than the last time.

The entire floating desktop flashed red light violently a few times, indicating that the Pinocchio model was not disintegrating, but rather directly simulating a small-scale virtual explosion.

Various building icons were blown apart and scattered, eventually turning into a jumble of gibberish and flashing warning symbols.

Dear shareholder, please keep up the good work!

Yan Huan stared at the glaring notification and glanced at the female manager with surprise.

How does it know who I am?

The female manager's perfect smile returned to her soul; she gave a slight bow, her voice still soft and smooth:

"Of course, this game is only open to shareholders; other people sitting here won't have this icon."

"When you approach the projection, the system will automatically recognize your identity."

"However, Mr. Yan Huan's idea... is indeed unique."

"Full of... well... groundbreaking sparks of thought."

"Perhaps the rules of the real world need some time to adapt to your vision and wisdom."

These words were perfectly worded, giving the shareholders ample face.

Just then, the composed male waiter reappeared silently beside Yan Huan's wheelchair like a ghost, holding a high-end-looking communication terminal in his hand.

He bowed slightly, his voice calm and even:

"Mr. Yan Huan, Miss March 7th, the rooms have been arranged."

"The Diamond Suite has been equipped with a double plunge pool in the master bedroom as requested, and is ready for immediate occupancy."

"Oh! That's great!" March 7's eyes lit up; it had been a long time since she had dreamt of shopping.

"Alright, the game's system still needs improvement." Yan Huan calmly looked at the waiter:

"Let's go see what our diamond-encrusted doghouse looks like."

The female manager's smile seemed even more genuine.

Finally, we don't have to watch this shareholder rebuild Pinocene anymore.

She gracefully stepped aside to lead the way:

"Please come with me."

On March 7th, the wheelchair was immediately pushed, and as it rolled over the soft red carpet, it left faint streaks of light.

……