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The end of January basically meant that the Spring Festival had entered its countdown.
In his previous life, Evan had heard a ridiculous online saying: the colder the place, the stronger the New Year's atmosphere.
The supporting argument was that ancient China was colder than modern times. Even southern regions could see snowflakes in ancient times, so at that time, the customs and cultural traditions for celebrating the New Year were somewhat related to snow.
Similarly, due to food shortages in winter, a lavish New Year's Eve dinner became especially precious.
However, as time moved into the modern era, with climate warming, abundant resources, greenhouse vegetables, and so on, modern people's daily lives, if they wished, were almost like celebrating the New Year every day.
The only remaining uncontrollable factor was probably the vast expanse of snow in the north, which could give people a feeling of: "Ah, this year is coming to an end."
Evan smiled wryly and tapped his head, which felt a bit swollen from writing all morning.
He had just taken a break and stared blankly at the falling snow for a while, and his mind had wandered off to a bunch of irrelevant things.
It seemed he was truly tired.
Thinking this, Evan pressed the intercom and called out:
"Lana, make me a cup of coffee and bring it in."
He then continued to bury his head in his writing.
A moment later, a cup of hot water was placed on Evan's desk.
Evan frowned. He needed the caffeine from coffee to perk him up at this moment, not a bland cup of plain water.
He looked up and said irritably:
"Didn't I say I wanted coffee... Emily, why is it you?"
Emily, who was standing at the desk, leaning in to see what Evan was writing, tucked a strand of hair behind her ear and said:
"You shouldn't always boss Lana around.
You've already promoted her to administrative supervisor, so don't bother her anymore.
If you keep calling her around all day, how can she manage her subordinates?"
Evan gave an apologetic smile. "It's a habit. When I'm busy, I forget these things.
Well, tell her later to hire me a secretary."
Upon hearing this, Emily bit her lip and said in a whisper: "Next time, for such things, you can call me..."
Evan asked in confusion: "What did you say?"
Emily's hard-won courage instantly vanished:
"Nothing... My mom said she's cooking at my place next week to entertain you.
She asked me to invite you.
Are you coming?"
"Yes, definitely, absolutely going."
Evan nodded in agreement. "It'll be New Year's next week, right?
New Year's Eve?
Would that be inappropriate?"
"Seven days from now is the twenty-ninth! What are you thinking!"
Emily said, huffing, and turned to leave the office, but then remembered something and stopped. "Have your parents returned?"
Evan knew she was talking about his parents who had been traveling for two months.
He mentally calculated the date and replied:
"Not yet, but soon, probably a flight in the next day or two."
Seeing Emily's expression, Evan, as if prompted by some impulse, said: "Will you come with me to pick them up then?
Hmm... I'll pay you."
Emily gave Evan a fierce glare, then closed the door.
A single word drifted through the door crack with the wind: "Fine."
The end of the year is also a time for many people to push for performance—for example, streamers.
Tyler "Teen Storm" Anderson was no exception.
For some time now, he had almost become Evan's staunch fan, because Killing Planet would always release a version update every two weeks under Evan's management.
The current Killing Planet was already vastly different from its original form.
Besides the unchanged selling points of gunfights and randomness, there were more selectable characters, and characters were also equipped with skills.
Evan had referenced Team Fortress and Overwatch from his previous life for this.
Considering support for four-player teams, he divided roles into tank, damage, support, and healer, with two heroes provided for players to choose from for each role.
And the map was no longer a simple endless mode. The general direction had been updated to three major stages, with each major stage divided into five small stages.
After several version updates, Evan finally created the roguelike mode map he had envisioned earlier.
Each player could equip three active skills and one passive skill.
Upon entering, only two skills could be chosen, and the remaining two slots would randomly drop during the game.
Similarly, the specialties of bosses and elites were diverse, with each boss randomly generated at the end of a stage, making it impossible for players to predict what kind of boss they would encounter.
This way, freedom was given to players, and players also made the game incredibly creative.
A tank equipped with healing skills?
Damage dealer with additional crowd control?
A monk healer with all passive skills?
All were up to the player's choice.
The rich game content meant that Tyler spent half of his streaming time over the past two months on it.
For a streamer like him who needed to play games every day, a rich, interesting, and replayable game that he enjoyed playing and that viewers enjoyed watching was truly excellent.
And now, under the supervision of his live stream audience, he was writing game suggestions to Evan:
"Hey Evan, as a loyal player of your Killing Planet, after exploring the game for over four hundred hours, I sincerely want to offer some suggestions.
I hope you can open up the game's mod creation function.
My friends and I have many cool ideas for Killing Planet, but we haven't been able to implement them.
I want to tell you how much we love this game, and we also hope this simple game can become even better."
"Alright, alright, finished writing."
After clicking send, Tyler closed the webpage and exclaimed:
"Then let's begin today's journey of slaughter!
Same as always, I'll randomly pick three viewers from the chat to team up.
Those with good skills, come quickly—I can fill any role.
Alright, starting now, if you want to participate, just spam ones in chat!"
Our sight returns to Harborview City, which is also where the Silver Ridge Games headquarters is located.
Director Tate couldn't help but tug at his sparse hair as he looked at the two young people in front of him, both stubbornly determined to resign.
"So you're here to say goodbye to me?"
The two young people exchanged glances, and the taller one nodded and said:
"Director Tate, we are very grateful for the company's cultivation of us, so we have completed everything the company wanted to know about Redbird.
But you are our teacher, and we shouldn't have kept it from you.
We just feel that making games is about making what we love.
We stayed at Redbird for two months and liked their people and environment.
Redbird also told us they would welcome us back to continue improving the game in the R&D department."
Director Tate nodded. "Say hello to Evan for me.
Tell him that what you two did wasn't right, but it's not something I can decide.
I'll pretend I don't know where you're going, and don't tell anyone else.
I'll talk to HR about your resignation. At least get your year-end bonus before you leave."
The two young people exchanged glances again, then bowed together to Director Tate:
"Thank you, Director Tate."
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