Hong Kong films: From street thugs to Hong Kong financial tycoons

Chapter 120 Please, please let me put in a coin!

In mid-December, the wind in Hong Kong carried a slight chill.

But for tens of millions of arcade gamers, movie buffs, and countless ordinary people around the world who were baptized by that ten-second miracle, it was a different story.

The fire in their hearts was not extinguished; instead, it was simmered into a volcano ready to erupt at any moment during this extremely long wait!

Half a month has passed since the first black arcade machine for "Primordial: King of Fighters" was powered on and lit up for the countdown at the Golden Dragon Game Hall in Mong Kok.

In the past two weeks, Yaosheng Technology has acted like a cold and aloof scumbag, stirring up the nerves of the whole world before disappearing without a trace.

There was no overwhelming newspaper publicity, no bombardment on television, and no public appearance by Lin Yao himself.

Only 100,000 pure black machines scattered throughout various arcades and the core locations of large shopping malls around the world flash a self-check screen for ten seconds every day, showing Erlang Shen unleashing a sonic boom cloud.

Then silence returned, leaving only the bright red, ticking countdown.

[24 days, 08 hours, and 15 minutes until the descent of the gods.]

Mong Kok, Portland Street, Golden Dragon Arcade.

It's 3 p.m. Normally, this should be a relatively quiet time for arcades, with only a few truant students killing time inside.

But now?

The entire Golden Dragon Arcade was ten times more crowded than a vegetable market, and even the ventilation fans could barely lift out the strong smell of human flesh and smoke.

In the center of the hall, around the "Primordial Era" test machine encased in a black metal shell, a ring of extremely conspicuous yellow warning tape was erected.

The fat boss even went so far as to hire two 1.9-meter-tall South Asian strongmen, who stood on either side of the machine with their arms crossed, like door gods.

Outside the cordon, hundreds of people were densely packed together, three layers deep!

"Tick-tock".

The countdown numbers jumped once.

"Holy crap—only 24 days left! This month feels longer than the three years I spent in jail!"

A gang leader with a burly face and a blue dragon tattooed on his arm clung to the police tape like a drug addict, his eyes bloodshot as he stared intently at the black screen.

"Brother B, Boss B!"

A young man who looked like a rich kid waved a wad of hundred-yuan bills in his hand and shouted pleadingly at the cashier.

"I'll give you five hundred, no, a thousand, just let me go in and touch that joystick, okay? Just a touch, to feel the force feedback micro-motor. I swear I won't press any buttons!"

"Get the hell out of here!"

Fat B sat behind the cashier, rolled his eyes, and took a sip of goji berry tea.

"You think you can touch Yaosheng Technology's machine for a thousand dollars? You think this is some kind of massage parlor girl? Let me tell you, this machine is my lifeline now."

"Don't even mention you. Yesterday, some Japanese game company president came with a suitcase full of US dollars, wanting to open it up and look at the motherboards inside. I chased him out with a broom!"

Fat B has finally figured things out. Although this machine hasn't earned him a single penny yet, the terrifying customer traffic it brings is enough to make anyone's scalp tingle.

In order to secure a good spot each day, these people endured the mere ten seconds of self-check screen in the arcade from morning till night.

When thirsty, they'd buy overpriced sodas from the arcade; when hungry, they'd eat instant noodles from the arcade; and when bored, they'd casually grab some from the nearby...

In Japan, you can insert a few coins into an arcade machine to pass the time.

This so-called way of passing the time actually tripled Fat B's revenue this month.

This is Lin Yao's open conspiracy. This is not just a game console; it is an extremely terrifying black hole of traffic.

"Look, the self-check process is about to begin!"

Someone in the crowd screamed.

The once noisy arcade instantly fell into a deathly silence. Everyone held their breath and didn't even dare to blink, for fear of missing even a single frame of the scene.

"A low-frequency sonic boom that shook the soul accompanied the screen lighting up."

The towering deity, the half-step Bengquan that breaks the limits of physics yet perfectly matches the power generation logic of Chinese martial arts, and the translucent shockwave that tears through the air once again exploded in the eyes of more than a hundred pairs of fervent eyes.

Even after watching it for a whole month, even after memorizing how many reflective spots there were on Erlang Shen's armor.

However, when they saw the scene that combined the computing power of 100,000 supercomputers with the real physical feedback from a master of Chinese martial arts, the sheer overwhelming power of this high-dimensional technology still sent a chill down everyone's spine.

"thump."

An elderly man dressed in Tai Chi practice clothes knelt down outside the police line, tears streaming down his face.

"This is real skill! This is the true skill passed down from our ancestors! That shift in the center of gravity, that explosive power from the spine like a giant dragon—"

"These are absolutely grandmaster-level statistics! To witness the magic of traditional Chinese martial arts manifesting in this iron box in my lifetime, even I, an old man, would die happy!"

Ten seconds passed in the blink of an eye, and the screen went dark again, the red countdown ticking coldly.

"Aaaaaah, just kill me! Those damned bastards at Yaosheng Technology, they've kept me hanging on like this for ages!"

"When is Chinese New Year's Day finally here? I'm dying to get my lucky money!"

Wailing and screams of despair rose and fell.

Lin Yao was like someone slowly simmering a pot of unparalleled broth. He wasn't in a hurry at all; he was just slowly simmering it, making the players all over the world feel their insides burning, making them willing to go bankrupt for this broth.

In stark contrast to the players' fervor and frenzy was the suffocating despair of the old-era tycoons.

Inside the mansion of Mr. Kwok in the Mid-Levels, a wealthy area of ​​Hong Kong.

The place was no longer as luxurious and grand as it once was; valuable antique vases were smashed all over the floor, and several servants huddled in a corner, trembling with fear.

"Withdrawing the release date?! You dare to withdraw it?!"

Mr. Li, the boss of the Pan-Asia Capital Alliance, looked like a gambler who had lost all his chips. With red eyes, he was grabbing a cinema manager by the collar and roaring hysterically.

"Didn't we sign a performance-based agreement? Forty percent of the screenings on Chinese New Year's Day had to be reserved for my 'The Heavenly Demon Harp,' and now you're telling me you're not going to schedule it anymore?"

The theater manager also looked bitter. He forcefully pried open Boss Li's hand, took two steps back, and his tone was full of helplessness.

"Boss Li, wake up! An agreement is an agreement, and the market is the market. Who would dare to go against Yaosheng Technology now?"

'

The theater manager sighed and pointed out the window.

"Go and see for yourself on the streets; all the people in Hong Kong have gone mad."

"They spend every day glued to those black arcade machines, just to catch a glimpse of the computer-generated Erlang Shen. Their appetites have been completely overwhelmed by those futuristic special effects!"

The theater manager became more and more excited as he spoke, and his voice rose.

"What kind of 'The Heavenly Demon Harp' is that? A few steel wires hanging in the air, a two-dollar special effects dynamite pack, plus a few pretentious martial arts moves. Do you really think the audience is stupid?"

"If I dared to show your movie in the cinema on the first day of the Lunar New Year, those hardcore gamers who just came out of the arcade would set my cinema on fire."

"No one can save your Pan-Asian Alliance. Yaosheng Technology will have a monopoly on the Lunar New Year's Day slot!"

After saying that, the theater manager turned and left without any mercy, leaving Boss Li slumped in the messy living room.

It's over, it's over.

On the second-floor terrace of the mansion, Mr. Guo, leaning on his cane, looked at the garden withering in the cold wind, his old eyes cloudy.

For more than half a year, he kept mocking Lin Yao for hiding in a tin can and making cartoons.

But now he understands that in this era of information explosion and rapid technological advancement, clinging to the past is tantamount to suicide.

Lin Yao wasn't making a movie; he was using capital and computing power to carry out a brutal and inhumane massacre of these parasites from the old era.

Meanwhile, Lin Yao, the instigator of this storm, was comfortably residing at his headquarters in the Tai Po Industrial Zone.

Inside the building.

Inside the chairman's office, it was warm and cozy. Lin Yao sat on a large sofa, with a plate of exquisite Cantonese dim sum on the coffee table in front of him.

Opposite him sat two Japanese men in suits, sweating profusely.

It was Kenzo Tsujimoto, president of Capcom Corporation, who flew in overnight from Japan, along with a representative from SNK.

These two big shots, who could shake the Asian gaming industry with a stomp of their feet, were now as obedient as two schoolchildren who had done something wrong in front of Lin Yao, with their legs together, hands on their knees, not daring to even breathe loudly.

"Mr. Lin————"

Kenzo Tsujimoto wiped the cold sweat from his forehead and spoke in broken Chinese with an extremely humble tone.

"We at Capcom come with the utmost sincerity, as long as you are willing to license the underlying source code of the Loongson motion capture rendering engine to us."

"We're willing to give up 45% of the company's shares, and we'll give you half of all future game profits!"

The SNK representative, not to be outdone, quickly bowed ninety degrees: "Mr. Lin, SNK is willing to offer fifty percent of its shares!"

They were truly terrified. Those 100,000 black arcade machines that had silently spread across the globe were like a Damocles' sword hanging over their necks.

Once the machines are turned on on the first day of the Lunar New Year, those machines with realistic physical skeletal feedback and unbeatable graphics will absolutely crush the mosaic fighting game market that they have painstakingly cultivated for decades into dust within a single day.

Seeing these two once-arrogant Japanese gaming giants bowing and scraping before him, Lin Yao showed no smugness.

He simply picked up the teacup slowly and gently blew on the tea leaves.

"Gentlemen, there's no need to argue."

Lin Yao's voice was calm, but every word exuded an absolute sense of dominance.

"I, Lin Yao, have my bottom line and rules when it comes to business."

Lin Yao put down his teacup and looked at them with a deep gaze.

"Chinese martial arts, whether it's Xingyiquan or Bajiquan, are cultural treasures left to all mankind by our ancestors."

"Those are public resources, and I neither deign to nor would I ever register these martial arts moves as any personal patent."

Upon hearing this, the two Japanese bigwigs were stunned for a moment, then a glint of wild joy flashed in their eyes.

If they don't register patents, doesn't that mean they can use it however they want?

However, Lin Yao's next words instantly plunged them into an abyss.

"You can learn any moves you want, whether you go to Shaolin Temple to become an apprentice or to Wudang Mountain to secretly observe, I don't care."

Lin Yao's lips curled into a cruel sneer, as if he were looking at two prey that had fallen into a trap.

"But what makes you think that your rudimentary 2D pixel engine can perfectly render the realistic physical center of gravity, the power generation logic of internal martial arts, and the shockwaves that cause muscles to pull on bones?"

"To achieve the visceral, soul-stirring cyberpunk martial arts effect seen on the big screen, there's only one way—"

Lin Yao extended a long, slender finger and tapped it heavily on the table.

"Use my 100,000 supercomputing farms, and the underlying algorithm engine that Yaosheng Technology exclusively monopolizes!"

"I won't sell the technology, and you don't even have the right to take a look at the source code."

Lin Yao leaned back on the sofa, his hands crossed, and the rhythm was set to the slowest, most suffocating setting.

"If you want to survive in the future game market, then bring your game design proposals and line up at my industrial base."

"I provide the computing power, I provide the engine, and I manufacture the machines for you. You can only obediently become content laborers within my Yaosheng Technology ecosystem, understand?"

Not monopolizing martial arts, but monopolizing the tools that allow martial arts to be reborn in the digital world—that's a calculated strategy! That's how you control the entire era.

The ultimate ambition of technology toll fees.

Two bigwigs from the Japanese gaming industry slumped onto the sofa, their faces ashen.

They knew that in this coming cyber era, they had completely lost the right to compete with this Eastern tycoon.

Lin Yao turned his head and glanced at the calendar on the wall. The first day of the Lunar New Year was drawing ever closer amidst an atmosphere of intense, oppressive anticipation.

After more than half a year of painstaking work, this all-encompassing net is finally about to be closed!