All other metrics looked good, but two data points showed major problems.
From clicking the advertisement to logging into the game, too many players were lost—basically six to seven times more than other web games!
Additionally, while the payment rate from players in the game was high, the total revenue was very low.
The reasons were simple.
The first issue was that the micro-client installation package was too large. The 370MB installation package didn’t align with the habits of the vast majority of web game players, so they didn’t even download the game or try it out—they simply gave up.
The high player payment rate was because the game’s payment model was too generous, only selling energy potions.
But the high payment rate was useless because the game’s spending ceiling was far too low. Even wealthy players with money had nowhere to spend it, so the total recharge amount couldn’t increase.
Pei Qian’s estimate was completely correct. Although the advertisement for “Hot Blood Battle Song Power-Up Version” was well-made, they had completely misidentified the target audience.
Most players attracted by the advertisement were traditional web game players. The 370MB micro-client download deterred the vast majority, and the low spending ceiling deterred a large number of big spenders.
As for those players seeking fair games, most had already moved on to client-based games.
They wouldn’t mind a 370MB micro-client installation package, but these people had deep prejudices against web games. They were deterred by the advertisement from the beginning, avoiding it like the plague, and would never click through.
Thus, the current deadlock had formed.
After reviewing the data, Pei Qian leaned back in his chair, feeling unprecedented comfort.
That’s more like it!
This is how the script should reasonably play out!
Finally, something is developing exactly as I predicted!
Pei Qian felt unprecedented satisfaction.
The unexpected popularity of Mingcloud Private Kitchen had dealt Pei Qian a heavy blow recently, making him somewhat anxious, but now, seeing the state of “Hot Blood Battle Song Power-Up Version,” he was finally a bit relieved.
According to the web game model, starting this badly makes a comeback almost impossible.
Most web games were quick money-makers. They’d initially spend heavily on advertisements and celebrity endorsements, instantly creating buzz and becoming viral across the internet within days, attracting large numbers of players.
But this heat would quickly fade, with income dropping off a cliff, leading to a server-rolling model to squeeze out the last bits of money.
So, even web games that started hot could still die midway through;
For web games that weren’t popular from the start, they were doomed.
With “Hot Blood Battle Song Power-Up Version” having such terrible first-day data, the possibility of a comeback was virtually non-existent.
The key factor deterring most web game players was the 370MB micro-client installation package. How could this problem be solved?
They couldn’t possibly scrap the entire 370MB micro-client and remake it with an instant-play model, could they? Wouldn’t that be a waste of effort?
So, from any perspective, Pei Qian was quite optimistic about “Hot Blood Battle Song Power-Up Version.”
Of course, he also knew he couldn’t be careless.
There had been too many examples of projects starting well but failing midway. This was just the first day of “Hot Blood Battle Song Power-Up Version’s” launch, so he couldn’t be too optimistic yet.
He still needed to carefully observe for a while before he could completely relax.
……
……
Meanwhile, at the Shangyang Games.
Everyone’s mood was extremely low—it could be described as a scene of utter desolation.
The data Pei Qian could see, Ye Zhizhou, Wang Xiaobin, and Lin Wan could also see. The problems Pei Qian could identify, Ye Zhizhou and Wang Xiaobin naturally could discover as well.
But discovering them didn’t mean they could solve them!
Both Ye Zhizhou and Wang Xiaobin sat silently at their workstations, brows furrowed.
The 370MB micro-client was a design proposal they had all put forward together, and Mr. Pei had nodded in approval.
But now, painful reality had slapped them hard in the face—such a large micro-client simply wouldn’t work in the web game circle; players wouldn’t accept it!
The veteran players of “Hot Blood Battle Song” were more accepting, after all, they already had an emotional attachment to “Hot Blood Battle Song,” and the 370MB micro-client brought significant improvements in graphics and game smoothness, making their experience genuinely better.
But “Hot Blood Battle Song” was originally an almost failed game that could barely continue operations—how many veteran players could there be?
With just their recharges, forget about recovering development costs; they could hardly manage the company’s daily operational expenses.
So, they were at an impasse.
Wang Xiaobin understood clearly how terrible the current situation was.
If problems appeared in some less important aspects, they could still be remedied.
For instance, if player retention on the second day was too low, with players not logging in the day after playing, they could implement a feature to give rewards for logging in on the second day, which could effectively improve next-day retention.
But the current situation was beyond remedy!
Most people clicked on the advertisement but never entered the game, simply leaving because the 370MB micro-client was too large. How could this be fixed?
Wang Xiaobin and Ye Zhizhou exchanged silent glances, both clearly understanding each other’s thoughts.
But just waiting around wouldn’t solve anything—they needed to find a solution.