Chapter 2: Don’t Make Noise, I’m Thinking
"Boss, are… are you okay?"
Seeing Bai Fu suddenly fall silent, with her complexion alternating between pale and green, Anya grew nervous once again.
She thought the boss had returned to normal, but from the look of it now, could her brain have been damaged by that punch during the debt collection?
The boss being beaten stupid—no way!
Anya rushed forward, crying and sniffling, "Boss, pull yourself together! If sothing happens to you, I… I’ll fight that old bastard who hit you to the death!"
Bai Fu rubbed Anya’s head. "Don’t make noise, I’m thinking."
Being a player-favorite NPC was no easy task.
First, she had to determine what kind of NPCs were popular with players.
Bai Fu crudely and straightforwardly divided beloved NPCs into two categories.
1. Hot.
2. Not hot.
She wasn’t just making this up—she ca prepared!
Be it man, beast, or even a refrigerator, everything could be divided this way.
After all, the vast majority of people played gas for pleasure, didn’t they?
Visual and auditory stimulation was enjoyable, emotional resonance was also satisfying, and "hotness" happened to provide players with the most direct and straightforward sensory stimulation.
But don’t underestimate this word "hot"—otherwise, players would teach you a lesson with their wallets.
In an era overflowing with new gas, "average goods" had long fallen out of favor; only the truly "distinctive" top-tier products could remain explosively popular on the major sites.
Life was short—who wouldn’t want a taste of the best?
So, what exactly was "distinctive"?
Bai Fu examined herself.
Bright eyes and gleaming teeth, soft curves and fair skin, large but firm—her looks and figure both scored above nine out of ten.
Her hardware passed the mark, but that only ant she’d earned a ticket to the "distinctive" club; she still needed the right software to unlock the hardware’s full potential.
Could she pull off sothing epic like drawing a sword from her chest?
Could she afford custom outfits like those silky milk-foam fantasy clothes?
Could she master the seductive yet refined aura of a Hehuan Sect enchantress?
Bai Fu glanced at her own heartbreakingly broke self, then at her own inability to even bite a lighter properly.
No money, no flair, and no interest in learning to be a Hehuan enchantress—she’d probably just be rated, "Seen it, not bad, next?"
That didn’t et her expectations—she didn’t want short-lived fa, but sustained streams of gold from players and developers alike.
Looks like she had to take the second path—be the kind of old-school artist who moves players with her performance, soone they’d rember fondly even years later.
Based on her own knowledge and voices from the community, Bai Fu made a rough classification of old-school beloved NPCs.
First type: justice partners or villains with trendous charisma.
Second type: the big-sister leader who shields players from wind and rain, even burning herself to pave the future.
Third type: tragic heroes that make people sigh, “Oh heavens, why treat x so cruelly?”
Fourth type: rich heiresses who randomly shower players with cash and burn money to build the future.
Fifth type: companions who always stay by the player’s side, silently supporting them, and striking back at anyone who wrongs the player.
Sixth type: fleeting glimpses that haunt players’ hearts, unforgettable even after many years—the white moonlight.
Seventh type: others.
The list looked long, but choosing wasn’t actually hard.
Bai Fu had excellent self-awareness.
She also wanted to be a justice partner, or a despair-inducing super villain, or a comforting big sister—but she didn’t have the ability, okay?
As for being a money-showering heiress, that was pure fantasy.
After weighing all options, it seed she could only lean toward being either a companion or a white moonlight.
But companion roles had too many limitations, so being the player’s white moonlight was the better choice.
A shot fired in youth, many years later hits dead center under the guise of nostalgia.
“When players first enter the ga, while they’re still dazed and confused, I’ll earn so goodwill in front of them—this way, even if they find out I’m with the Wildfire Gang, they won’t attack right away.”
Just gaining so goodwill—Bai Fu was full of confidence.
This face of hers wasn’t for nothing. Just stretching out a leg was enough to attract a whole crowd of players, not to ntion she even planned to pull off a "beautiful girl saves the 'hero'" act to whitewash herself.
Once she left players with the impression of "she must be a good person", her next step was to establish a persona.
A solid persona could pierce through superficial senses and strike straight into a person’s soul.
Only the popularity gathered this way could truly remain evergreen.
Of course, what Bai Fu really valued was power. Increasing her popularity was rely a shortcut to obtaining power.
She saw building a persona as making a wish.
Developer, look closely—this is how I should appear in the eyes of the players. To avoid disappointing them, for the sake of the ga’s ratings, shouldn’t you maybe give a stat boost?
She wasn’t threatening the developers. When a character stood out so much that they escaped the developers’ control, didn’t that just make the devs look like top-tier character designers?
If that stat boost actually ca through, her power would increase, players’ expectations would be fulfilled, and the dev’s bonuses and their mom’s peace of mind would all be preserved.
Now that, damn it, is what you call a damn three-way win!
With that in mind, Bai Fu took great care when crafting her persona.
Sothing like “20 years old, divorced, raising an 11-year-old kid” might garner attention fast, but it wouldn’t help her get stronger—so she tossed that one out right away.
“For now, I’ll go with the mysterious figure route—let players imagine my real identity on their own. That way I can adjust in real ti and avoid awkward issues like persona collapse.”
After all, she just said she was unfathomable—she never said what part of her was unfathomable. If players guessed wrong, how could she be blad? Bla those dumbass developers!
If a player’s imagination ca up with sothing cool, she could just copy it straight away.
Win!
Bai Fu glanced at Anya next to her.
“Anya!”
“Here!” Anya, who had been dragged to the side, imdiately stepped forward. “Boss, are we going to teach those lawless outsiders a lesson now?”
Bai Fu shook her head. “Too shortsighted. Those outsiders are worth far more than the asly bounty the Wildfire Gang offered. Anya, think big. Our journey is to the sea of stars—we can’t lose the greater for the lesser.”
Anya: “¿”
Bai Fu smiled like a witch who eats children. “Don’t you want to wake up every day in the middle of a 500-square-ter bed? Don’t you want to—”
Anya pulled a bitter face. “Boss, I wouldn’t dare dream like that even in my sleep.”
Bai Fu was speechless.
Young people shouldn’t act old—dream more often. What if it cos true?
“If you do want that, then cooperate with . I’ve already found a way to make a fortune through those outsiders.”
Anya was half-convinced, half-doubtful. “So what should I do?”
Bai Fu replied, “I haven’t thought up your persona yet. For now, just follow around and act like a riddle-speaker.”
Creating a loli persona was different from creating a young girl’s or a mature woman’s. Forcing it into the sa mold could accidentally turn into a straight-up prison-style vibe.
As a law-abiding five-star model citizen, Bai Fu wasn’t about to go that criminal route.
She planned to interact with the players first, see if today’s players preferred psycho lolis or noble loli ladies, and then tailor a complentary persona for Anya accordingly.
Anya nodded vaguely. “Riddle-speaker?”
Bai Fu stood up. “Don’t overthink it. Elbow, co with .”
Anya quickly asked, “Boss, where are we going?”
Bai Fu answered, “To the hair salon. Before the mission starts, we’re dyeing our hair white—buff ourselves up.”
She heard white hair was a critical hit against Chinese players.
Two white-haired girls ant double the critical—wouldn’t that just max out player goodwill?
“Ah?”
Anya thought she misheard.
What was the connection between white hair and sleeping in a 500-square-ter bed?
It’s over. Boss really was hit stupid by that old debtor!
No way! Boss, if you lose your mind, what am I supposed to do?!
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