I Forged the Myth of the Ancient Overlords
Chapter 673 - 673 672. From Ocean to Land_1

Chapter 673: 672. From Ocean to Land_1 Chapter 673: 672. From Ocean to Land_1 Under the Weibo topic, a myriad of comments emerged in this brief period.

“Does Lu Ban really think he can break into the gaming industry with this VR? I think he’s way too full of himself. In the end, VR is nothing but a pseudo-demand. With the current state of technology, this is purely conceptual; he won’t be able to handle it.”

“Maybe Lu Ban thinks his special effects are badass, so he wants to rely on technology to attract players, but at the end of the day, a game has to be fun. Even the most badass technology can’t make up for a lack of gameplay.”

“I say, wouldn’t it be good if he just stuck to being a director? His movies aren’t bad, after all. Why does he have to wedge his way into the gaming industry, and with VR that’s already gone cold? I suspect he’s been hoodwinked by someone.”

“Do you guys think Lu Ban might actually come out with some incredibly badass VR equipment, like the kind in movies?”

“How is that possible? Do you know how difficult that technology is? Besides, if there really was such technology, it would definitely be used by the military first. By the time it got to consumer use, Lu Ban would be long gone.”

“You guys, don’t be so absolute with your words. If there’s a turnaround, I’ll @ each and every one of you to flog the corpses!”

“I think you shouldn’t pop the champagne mid-game. In the past, everyone doubted Lu Ban, but every time, he managed to drop jaws with a surprise. This might be no exception.”

“Although I believe in Lu Ban, I don’t believe in VR. I work in image recognition myself, and the current technology is simply not enough to support the demands of VR gaming. Even if Lu Ban is amazing, could he really break through technological barriers in just a few months?”

During this time, the vast majority of people were not very optimistic about Lu Ban’s new device.

There’s nothing new about it; VR, virtual reality, these aren’t innovative or groundbreaking technologies but ones other companies have already tried.

Besides the visual experience, there were issues with controls, space, and various technical constraints that relegated such technology to the shelf.

The helmet that Lu Ban had come up with was causing a lot of anxiety.

“Really?”

Old Eggplant repeated to his friend for confirmation.

“Really, I told them you’re a big UP host with a million followers, and you’d be great for publicity. Plus, I’m well acquainted with the big shots over there, so I can get you an early experience.”

His friend said, then handed Old Eggplant a media pass and directed him to go queue up.

Silent Media’s exhibition area had a total of ten devices.

One of these was reserved for priority media gameplay, with a special media queue.

As long as you have a media pass, you could line up here and get priority to try out “Morning Star”.

However, there were so many journalists and media people at the exhibition today that even the media line was bustling, leaving Old Eggplant no choice but to queue up properly.

He eagerly watched as each person went into the small dark rooms to test the game and soon, the first batch of players emerged.

Old Eggplant craned his neck to see their expressions and sensed that something was off.

Every single one of them had a look of rapture, a dazed appearance, as if they had just woken up from sleep.

Their expressions were like they’d been drugged, like they had been high and then suddenly came crashing down.

What on earth did they see?

The small dark rooms were a mode of gameplay demonstration at the gaming exhibition, typically used for games that hadn’t revealed too much information. Visitors had to enter one by one, no photography or video recording allowed, and they could only describe the games based on what they remembered after leaving.

“How secretive!”

Old Eggplant grumbled.

He wasn’t jealous of those people!

He noticed that even after they left the small dark rooms, they didn’t discuss anything but remained in that dazed state, which he found incredibly baffling.

Normally, when you play an exhilarating game, shouldn’t you be eagerly wanting to share it with the people around you?

What’s with this sage-like state of affairs?

Even if we take a huge step back and assume that Lu Ban’s equipment and game are both extremely terrible, shouldn’t he have come out cursing vehemently, shouting about demanding a refund or something to that effect?

This silence instinctively made Old Eggplant feel that something was amiss.

He thought back to the past, when some of Lu Ban’s movies premiered. The audience would exit the movie theater in a similar state, of course followed by that “those who know, know” secretive smile.

Do Lu Ban’s works really possess such magical power?

Old Eggplant grew increasingly excited about trying the game in the small dark room.

After waiting in line for a while, it was finally his turn.

Old Eggplant entered the small dark room, initially curious about how Lu Ban’s VR equipment would work, but inside the room, there was nothing but a staff member to guide him, a soft sofa chair, and that helmet connected to a power source.

Following the staff’s directions, Old Eggplant took a seat on the chair.

He put on the helmet, which fitted reasonably well, and quickly his entire field of vision was obscured.

Guided by the staff, Old Eggplant recited the command to start the device with a heart full of doubt.

“Link, begin.”

The next instant, Old Eggplant felt as if something had pushed him backward; the soft sofa chair, the somewhat heavy helmet—everything disappeared.

He just kept falling backward, falling, as if dropping into a bottomless abyss.

Then, accompanied by a kaleidoscope of black, a ray of light emerged.

…

Old Eggplant had already forgotten how he walked out of the small dark room.

He looked somewhat dazedly at the queued crowd, at their expectant expressions, and he felt his footsteps were a bit floaty, like someone who had just climbed out of the water after nearly drowning.

Old Eggplant saw the others who had tried the game, their appearances, genders different, but looking at them, Old Eggplant knew exactly what kind of expression was on his face.

He found a spot to sit and tried to calm his emotions.

A sense of irritation began to build within Old Eggplant.

He took out his phone, wanting to post a Weibo status or a story describing his current mood, but after a long thought, he felt he had changed, not knowing what he had done wrong to deserve such punishment from the heavens.

Old Eggplant had reviewed many games, and he could describe the vast majority with “fun” or “not fun,” and the same went for gaming equipment.

But now, he simply couldn’t evaluate Lu Ban’s “Morning Star.”

He felt that this equipment, as well as what Lu Ban had shown them, was not something he was qualified to judge.

The gaming exhibition still had many booths, and the TVs at these booths played a variety of flashy game trailers with many of them offering game demos.

This should have been an exciting prospect, the very thing that Old Eggplant, as a gamer, should be most eager to try.

But now, Old Eggplant knew.

When our human ancestors first stepped from the ocean onto the land, using their limbs to leave their own footprints on that vast world, they could never go back.