Rebirth is fine, but I get eight hundred dollars right from the start?

The crowd in front of the booth grew larger and larger.

The evening breeze blew from the direction of the square, causing the large white characters "Take Esports Seriously" on the display board to sway slightly, but the sign standing on the stand remained motionless.

The parent, who claimed their child was already a professional gamer, continued:

"Later we also came to understand that for ordinary people, playing games is mainly for entertainment, stress relief, and enjoyment; winning or losing doesn't matter."

"But becoming a true esports player is a high-intensity competitive job where winning and losing are the only standards. It requires you to train repeatedly, withstand pressure, and review and correct mistakes."

Lin Shu waited until the other person finished speaking before speaking, saying, "This parent is right. Liking games doesn't mean you're suited to be a professional gamer. In fact, 99% of players will always just be enthusiasts."

With just one sentence, the parents who were initially wary instantly dropped their hostility, and the tension in the air gradually eased.

It turns out that the official promotion of video games wasn't for any small profit.

At this point, the parent who had spoken up for the LPL players earlier said with some concern:

"But Emperor, the club my child attends is said to be going out of business and closing down. He's been depressed all the time, and we parents don't know how to help him. Do you have any good suggestions?"

Lin Shu was looking down as he unscrewed the cap of his water bottle to take a sip when he heard this. He paused for a moment, then put the bottle back on the table.

"May I ask what kind of work your child does?"

"I think it's called something like StarCraft!"

StarCraft.

Lin Shu's eyebrows twitched slightly, but the parent sitting opposite him clearly noticed it.

The onlookers standing around him fell silent for a moment, as if waiting for his answer.

StarCraft was a special project in 2013.

It was once synonymous with esports. South Koreans pushed it to the pinnacle of professionalization, and its matches were broadcast by television stations all over the world. Back then, the annual salary of professional players could even rival that of second- or third-tier athletes in some traditional sports.

Taking last year as an example, there were star players with an annual salary of three to four hundred thousand yuan, and first-line players could steadily earn around fifteen to twenty yuan.

But by 2013, the project was facing difficulties.

The game itself has too high a barrier to entry, and novices simply can't figure it out. As a result, the audience is gradually shrinking. In addition, due to South Korea's long-term dominance, sponsors and capital are slowly shifting to other projects that are easier to "understand".

There aren't many professional StarCraft clubs in China that have survived to this day; news of poor management or even disbandment circulates every year.

Lin Shu paused for two or three seconds, processing the information in his mind, before speaking. His voice was a little lower than before, but still clear: "StarCraft is an absolute pioneer in the esports industry... but due to factors such as developer operations, single-region dominance, diminished commercial value, and the increasing number of competing projects in the internet age, it has gradually become marginalized... It's perfectly normal for major esports clubs to consider switching tracks..."

He paused, as if considering his words, but quickly continued without beating around the bush: "Actually, whether it's esports or traditional sports, the problems of niche and marginalized projects are the same—small audience, low attention, and limited commercial value. Most players can only survive on prize money and club salaries. The clubs' funding sources are unstable, and once there are no sponsors renewing their contracts, they can go bankrupt at any time. In recent years, quite a few StarCraft clubs in China have indeed closed down."

He glanced at the parent's expression; the parent's brow was furrowed, but there was no sign of resistance; they were simply listening attentively.

Lin Shu continued, "From an industry structure perspective, esports is very similar to some niche traditional sports. For example, fencing, weightlifting, and equestrianism—these sports have an audience in international competitions and bring national honor, but their level of professionalization is not high, and their commercial potential is limited. Top athletes can earn good incomes, but most practitioners can only make a living through subsidies and part-time jobs. The attention from live broadcasts and rebroadcasts cannot compare with that of football and basketball, and sponsors are willing to invest less money. When teams can't even survive, it's naturally difficult for players to get enough returns."

"So if your child's club really is going out of business—"

Lin Shu looked into the parent's eyes, his tone flat, neither softening nor dodging the question, "That's probably determined by the overall business environment of the project. It's not just his problem, nor is it because he's not skilled enough. There aren't many clubs in China where professional StarCraft players can earn a stable salary right now."

The parent nodded, their expression shifting from worry to a complex "I see" look. Then they asked, "What should I do with my son? He doesn't know anything but playing video games. If I really ask him to come back to school, he'll definitely cause a scene."

Lin Shu thought for a moment, "If he's interested in continuing to play professionally, he can take the initiative to inquire if any other clubs are accepting players and contact them before his contract expires. But he needs to be mentally prepared—the career path for StarCraft in China is much narrower than it was a few years ago, and it's not something he can change just by trying hard."

"Of course, switching to other games is also a good option. For example, many of the players in the League of Legends competition that is being held today came from other games."

"If I can no longer continue playing professionally,"

"Then he needs to consider whether to continue working in the esports industry. His current advantage is his 'depth understanding of the game StarCraft,' which is transferable—other positions in the esports industry, such as coaches, tactical analysts, commentators, and content editors, all require people who understand the game."

Lin Shu smiled and said, "What China lacks right now is people who truly understand games and competitive logic to do this work well. If he's willing, he can pave a way for himself in this direction."

"My only advice is—regardless of whether you pursue a professional career or not, don't completely lose your ability to learn. Many professional StarCraft players who successfully transitioned after retirement did so because they were able to learn new things and adapt to new environments. If all you can do is play games, your career path will be limited."

The parent didn't speak immediately after hearing this.

He glanced down at the popular science booklet in his hand, turned to the last page which introduced job descriptions in the e-sports industry, looked at it for several seconds, and then looked up and said thank you: "Thank you, I know how to talk to the child now."

Snapped!

Snapped!Snapped!Snapped!

After Lin Shu finished explaining, someone started a round of enthusiastic applause from the parents in the audience.

Different!

The young man in front of them was really different from the internet addicts they had in mind.

Oh, we can't call him a "net addict," he's a professional esports player!

(These chapters are a bit difficult to write, please allow me to take my time.)