Honkai: Oh No, I’ve Become the Herrscher of Corruption?! - Chapter 168

In this world, the market of any industry is essentially a pie. The more you take, the less others get. The gaming industry is, of course, no exception.

January 2015.

Illusory Void Brawl, the game created by Enoxia, had entered its 10th year since its initial release in 2006.

Watching Illusory Void Technology Co., Ltd. seize a significant market share across the globe, other companies grew envious. They scrambled to imitate, hoping to replicate its success by “learning from” Illusory Void Brawl. Unfortunately, the final result only served to enhance Illusory Void Brawl’s reputation.

Before similar games appeared, many believed any other company could achieve the same high quality at a low cost. They thought others could maintain exquisite modeling, excellent graphics, a compelling story, and strong playability while further reducing the need for in-game purchases.

However, when those who claimed “I could do that too” actually tried, the results they delivered left everyone utterly disappointed.

At a beachside villa, Enoxia’s home.

Sirin looked at the actual gameplay footage before her and slammed her fist on the table. Enoxia leaned over to take a glance and couldn’t help but crack a smile.

Whether the character models were attractive, the visuals stunning, or the storyline superb—these could be matters of personal opinion. But bugs in the programming causing NPCs to behave in utterly ridiculous ways? That was simply indefensible.

On Sirin’s phone, many NPCs seemed to have Parkinson’s, their arms and legs shaking incessantly while the protagonist stood idle. In a tavern not far away, an NPC sitting on a chair even performed a full 360-degree neck rotation on the spot.

“What is this mess? With this level of quality, they dare to compete with Illusory Void Brawl?”

Enoxia patted Sirin’s head.

“Don’t get angry over such things. Competing with the game I made? From the very start, no company, not even all of them combined, ever stood a chance.”

“First, modeling, artwork, operations, public relations… every step of game development costs money. Even if other development teams possessed production capabilities on par with Illusory Void Brawl, the terrifying sunk costs at market rates would deter most.”

“Over 99% of the code for Illusory Void Brawl was written by my clones. They can work year-round, 24 hours a day, without pay, while absolutely obeying any of my commands. This fact alone makes it impossible for any corporation to imitate.”

“Second, no matter how good or bad a company’s reputation is, the ultimate goal is profit. Any adjustment to in-game rewards, whether increasing or decreasing them, is ultimately about making money.”

“But money? It’s meaningless to me. To prevent inflation, I generally don’t just add zeros to an account balance. Instead, I manipulate the accounts of people I dislike, transferring funds through several layers before it reaches my account. As for legality… as long as no one in the entire world has evidence to prove I broke the law, then my actions are naturally legal.”

“Of course, the most fundamental reason is that video games are things that require electronic devices to establish connection. In the realm of electronic devices, others must follow the rules, while I define them. As long as the games are made by humans, unless I voluntarily step aside, no other game in the next hundred years could possibly carve out Illusory Void Brawl’s market share.”

Sirin nodded, somewhat understanding, then opened her browser. She checked the comments section under the latest video posted by the official Illusory Void Brawl account on a certain platform and frowned again.

Enoxia glanced over and immediately knew what was happening.

“Sirin, don’t get worked up just yet. Here, let me run a little test.”

Enoxia sat down on the sofa and patted her lap. Sirin, in her expanded form, plopped down onto it. Enoxia extended the index fingers of both hands and poked Sirin’s cheeks.

“Pfft.”

After Sirin deflated, Enoxia proceeded to rub and tousle her affectionately. In short, after this bit of playful mischief, Sirin’s mood improved considerably.

“Ah, my clones have set it up. Look, these messages were actually sent by me. I modified the platform’s algorithm to ensure these posts are seen by the vast majority of netizens.”

[Why doesn’t Andy Lau play villain roles?]
[Qin Shi Huang sent Meng Tian north to attack the Xiongnu.]
[Elementary school student recreates Shenzhou spacecraft launch.]
[Recently, the Far East faces rice shortage, prices soar.]
[What to do when troops scatter and run amok during deployment?]

“Now look at the comments section.”

Sirin scrolled through the comments for a while and soon wore an expression of barely contained laughter.

“So, you see, when you encounter outrageously stupid comments online, there’s no need to get overly angry or agitated, and certainly no need to rush into arguments. The other side might just be a bot triggered by keywords.”

“Then… how are you going to deal with this?”

Enoxia stretched and blew a gentle breath towards the phone screen.

“Whoosh.”

“Just like that.”

————————
Qinchuan City, Shenzhou.

In a rented apartment, Shi Chunzhu returned home after a day’s work. Seeing the empty refrigerator, he sighed involuntarily, then turned on his computer.

“What’s this… ‘A kind word warms for three winters, a malicious one chills even June’… Pfft, if your mental fortitude is so weak that you can’t handle a few curses, that’s your problem, what’s it got to do with me? But then again, if everyone had such strong mental fortitude and didn’t care no matter what others said, I wouldn’t have this side income, would I?”

Shi Chunzhu activated a script and began mass-sending identical text on a certain platform.

Just like that, as soon as the latest PV for Illusory Void Brawl was released, dozens of identical comments instantly appeared below it.

“Hah, what a bunch of fools. The more you argue, the more money I make. Hahaha… cough.”

Shi Chunzhu grabbed a tissue and blew his nose.

“Why does my head suddenly hurt so much… cough…”

Thinking he had caught a cold, Shi Chunzhu took two pills and lay down on the bed to rest.

“Strange, I haven’t been overdoing it lately… guess I shouldn’t stay up late anymore…”

However, as soon as he got into bed, Shi Chunzhu felt a wave of nausea.

“Oh no… urp… urp… urp…”

Before he could reach the bathroom, Shi Chunzhu began vomiting violently, ejecting not only his dinner but also the medicine he had just taken.

“Damn it, this feels awful… urp… urp…”

Ten minutes later, Shi Chunzhu finally stopped. His throat felt torn, and the area near his left ribs ached terribly.

“If I can just… make it to that spot…”

Finally, his hands gripped the edge of the toilet, allowing him to stand up.

Urp…
Urp…

Just as he caught his breath, a second wave of vomiting began. This time, there was nothing left to bring up—just dry heaves into the toilet. After his body muscles convulsed abnormally again and again, Shi Chunzhu felt his consciousness slowly slipping away. Before completely passing out, he managed to dial 120.

What Shi Chunzhu didn’t know was that thousands of miles away, Enoxia was admiring his pathetic state through the perspective of one of her clones.

The Herrscher of Corruption is, in essence, a sentient ultimate virus, exhibiting characteristics of both biological and electronic viruses. This means that if Enoxia wishes, the viruses she releases into electronic devices can share similar traits. They can propagate through networks and even cross dimensional barriers to infect three-dimensional humans.

“Not just for Illusory Void Brawl, many of the recent troll campaigns online are run by this same group. There are 250 people in total, controlling over 30,000 accounts across major platforms. Their leader is someone named Worshige Shia’bi. These people are scattered all over the world. It would be quite troublesome for governments to track them down. Even if caught, at most their accounts get deleted, they pay a fine, get detained for a few days, and are back at it before long.”

“The best way to eliminate trolls is always to physically remove the person hiding behind the electronic device. Only the dead lose the ability to manipulate narratives.”

“See? All 250 of them are in the hospital now. No need to even delete comments; the comment sections have already returned to normal.”

“What will ultimately happen to them?”

Enoxia calmly spread her hands.

“What will happen? They’ll keep coughing and vomiting until they die, that’s all. I can’t guarantee much else, but death is a certainty. Given their social standing, if any hospital can crack the virus I created, I might as well quit my job as the Herrscher of Corruption.”

Sirin extricated herself from Enoxia’s embrace, walked to the window, gazed at the distant scenery, then turned around.

“With your abilities, you could just kill them outright. Why go through all these theatrics?”

Enoxia looked at Sirin.

“Do you think beings like us, Herrschers who don’t intend to be enemies of humanity, should abide by the order of human society?”