novelraw Chapter 91: Explosion
Chapter 91: Explosion
11:00 PM.
Tang Yao returned home, visibly tired. She stood at the doorway and took a deep breath, adjusted her expression slightly, then pulled out her key and opened the door.
She had said she’d head home early… but, of course, that didn’t happen.
There was just too much to do.
She opened the door. As usual, the lights inside were still on.
But the girl who usually sat on the couch scrolling on her phone was missing.
Tang Yao looked at the cozy, cramped little apartment, and at last, her anxious heart began to calm down.
She stretched a little, then tiptoed into the shared bedroom, grabbed some clean clothes, and headed to the bathroom for a shower.
After she finished, she didn’t immediately go to bed. Instead, she sat on the couch and checked readers’ feedback on her phone.
Seeing that readers were all trying to talk her down and “warn” her, she sat quietly for a while, then put the phone down. She got up, pulled out a notepad, and began listing things she needed to do the next day. There was just too much to remember—it had become a daily ritual. In the warm little apartment—
The quiet scratch of a ballpoint pen filled the room as it swept across the paper.
Because the table was about the same height as the sofa, it wasn’t a great writing surface. Tang Yao had to squat beside it. Having just showered, she had changed into a simple, loose floral pajama set. But her figure was just too good—even in loose pajamas, her curves couldn’t be hidden. Squatting slightly caused her perky, round hips to stretch the pajama pants taut.
Time passed slowly.
Soon, it was close to 1:00 AM.
Tang Yao gathered the sticky notes on the table, let out a long breath, then carefully tiptoed into the bedroom, feeling her way in the dark toward the upper bunk.
But as she got close to the bed, Xun—who was lying on the bottom—suddenly sat up, startling her.
“Xun… you’re still awake?”
Tang Yao held onto the bunk bed ladder, surprised to see her little sister sitting up.
Tang Xun curled up her pure, snow-white legs and knelt upright on the bed—a posture full of girlish charm that showed off her natural flexibility.
She reached out and tugged on her sister’s pajama top before speaking softly: “…You woke me up.”
Tang Yao gave her an apologetic look. “Sorry, I’ll head up right now.”
“…Don’t. Just sleep down here with me.”
“Eh? Why?”
Tang Yao hesitated. “You’re a light sleeper, and I move around a lot. You won’t sleep well.”
The two sisters had shared a bed before. Later on, Tang Yao got used to sleeping alone. Occasionally, when she was too lazy to climb to the top, she’d sleep on the bottom bunk.
She enjoyed it just fine, but a few times, Tang Xun had clearly looked tired the next day.
When Tang Yao asked, she found out—her sleeping posture wasn’t exactly “well-behaved.”
So, she stopped sharing a bed with Xun.
“…”
Tang Xun stayed quiet for a moment, clearly struggling to find a reason. In the end, she simply reached out her other hand to tug her sister’s shirt and whispered, “Sis…”
Tang Yao went silent. Though Xun wasn’t exactly acting spoiled… she really couldn’t say no to her.
In that moment, she felt like she’d agree to anything her sister asked.
And so—
In the warmth of the bed,
Their curvy bodies lay pressed together.
Tang Xun wrapped her arms around her sister’s slim waist. After adjusting her position, she suddenly asked, “Has something… happened recently?”
It had been quite a while.
Tang Xun, of course, knew what her sister had been up to.
“Oh… So you’re worried.”
Tang Yao hugged her sister’s soft little frame. Caught off guard, she let out a small laugh. “I thought maybe you were just missing your big sister.”
Tang Xun didn’t reply, but she hugged Tang Yao a little tighter.
“It’s nothing.”
Tang Yao felt her sister’s hold and smiled gently. She raised her snowy chin and lightly brushed it against Xun’s head. “Even if the game really fails in the end, I can still take care of you.”
“…”
Tang Xun pursed her lips and was silent for a moment. Then she said, “You don’t have to take care of me. I’ll be earning money soon myself…”
Tang Yao chuckled. “That’s not happening anytime soon. You’re only seventeen—you don’t need to worry about stuff like that.”
Tang Xun: “But I’m already grown up!”
“That’s true.”
Tang Yao squirmed awkwardly, trying to adjust their position so they wouldn’t bump into each other. She muttered under her breath, “It’s so cramped…”
“…”
Tang Xun blinked and looked up at her sister. Then she said softly, “That’s because of you.”
“You can’t just slander me like that!”
“I measured it…”
“Then your ruler was wrong.”
“…”
Tang Xun stared at her sister, who—for once—was acting all righteous and smug. She realized something and didn’t push the issue. Instead, she bit her lip lightly.
She could tell Tang Yao was trying to divert her attention.
Tang Yao noticed her sister’s gaze and lowered her head a little. She froze, then slowly relaxed the stubborn look on her face.
In the dim moonlight, her porcelain face looked stunning. She whispered gently, “Don’t worry… I haven’t failed yet.”
…
Meanwhile—On the other side of the city.
Rumi looked up from her phone, stunned. The story had suddenly cut off, and she growled, “Are you kidding me?! Let me finish it!! How can it end here?! Rin and Shirou already started fighting! You can't just stop now!”
She stared at the frozen screen, furious.
…At first, the spoilers had really upset her.
And she hadn’t thought much of the mobile game either—just another fancy, art-heavy empty shell.
But that was at the beginning!!!
She hadn’t expected that the so-called Third-Rate Artist would be so bold! A sequel! The game’s prologue was a direct continuation of Fate/Zero!!!
The kids introduced in Fate/Zero were now following in their parents’ footsteps… participating in the Fifth Holy Grail War!
And their battles—just as intense and thrilling!
Combined with all that “overloaded” visual art and battle mechanics with just the right amount of challenge—
It was ridiculously fun!
Before she knew it,
Rumi had played for an entire day!
And mind you—she never played games. She didn’t even have time to play games.
As one of the most well-known mangaka, she was very disciplined.
But with this game… she seemed to forget about self-control altogether.
However—
What made her upset now was that just as the direct sequel story to Fate/Zero was getting really good… it abruptly stopped. The in-game plot kicked in: Chaldea suffered a sudden incident—a fire broke out…
The player, who was originally observing the Fifth Holy Grail War in a parallel world, was suddenly forced to return to Chaldea. And the story picked up with the FGO storyline.
Chaldea plunged into chaos, and the player-character was searching everywhere for their guide, Mash…
Finally, they found her—trapped under a collapsed structure in the lower levels of Chaldea.
Then came the critical moment: the protagonist, under emergency orders, was transported to Singularity F—Fuyuki City, 2004.
After all, this wasn’t a GalGame—it was a mobile game. Tang Yao designed it with two parallel narrative tracks: one following Fate/stay night, and the other being the original story of the game itself.
The idea was that while Fate/stay night would hook in readers and early players, it would also help complete the FATE series lore.
But the original game storyline—that was the real narrative.
Of course, running both at the same time was kind of painful for players at first.
Rumi, for example, was very upset.
Because what she really wanted to see… was the direct sequel to Fate/Zero: Fate/stay night.
But soon, she was too distracted to care—because the “Burning Fuyuki” chapter introduced more gameplay mechanics, and then… the gacha system appeared.
“…Saint Quartz Summon? What’s that?”
Rumi blinked at the prompt on her screen, then followed the tutorial and tapped it.
The moment she touched the screen—
The game jumped to the summoning screen. A bold, glowing banner read LIMITED CARD POOL—impossible to miss.
“Eh… cards?”
The wheel of fate began to turn…
That night, many people didn’t sleep.
…
The next day.
Tang Yao returned to Avalon Studio, fully recharged, a bit later than usual—but quickly dove back into work.
Even though the game was now in testing… that didn’t mean things were over. At least not until Fate/stay night was complete.
She couldn’t relax yet.
However—
As the day wore on, especially after dinner…
The studio’s usually focused staff began showing signs of distraction.
Because it had been a full day since the beta went live. By now, they should’ve had some data—like retention rate, payment rate, ARPPU (Average Revenue Per Paying User), and so on.
Granted, the data wasn’t fully accurate yet—real numbers would only come after the entire testing cycle.
But the recent turmoil had everyone on edge…
It was only Tang Yao’s composure and charisma that kept the team steady.
But now, even she couldn’t keep the anxiety contained… Everyone wanted to know the results.
…Even if they weren’t official yet.
Tang Yao noticed the shift in mood. After a brief pause, she stood up.
Everyone in the studio immediately looked her way.
Tang Yao wore a calm, composed expression as she slowly walked over to Kang Ming’s desk.
Kang Ming had been watching her. When their eyes met, he quickly straightened his posture.
“How’s the data… have you checked it?”
Tang Yao raised her voice slightly to ask.
“…Not yet.”
Kang Ming shook his head. He didn’t dare look—worried that if the numbers were bad, he’d be too crushed to keep working…
So all day, he’d forced himself to stay busy. He held off checking, terrified that a single glance might break him.
Tang Yao replied, “Then let’s take a look!”
“…Okay.”
Kang Ming, staring at her composed face, hesitated before nodding. Then, nervously, he reached for the mouse.
At the same time—
Everyone in the studio turned their attention to them.
Tang Yao stood there with a calm look, as if she had everything under control. Her right hand, naturally at her side, quietly clenched into a fist… and then quickly loosened.
The entire studio fell silent—only the sounds of clicking and typing came from Kang Ming’s desk.
Then—
The sounds stopped.
Kang Ming froze, staring at the screen, stiff as a board.
His reaction was so intense that everyone noticed—and collectively held their breath.
At that moment, Tang Yao was the first to speak.
“…Well?”
“…Tang Yao.”
Kang Ming slowly turned around, his voice trembling. He stared at her with wide eyes, his expression twisted. “Out of two thousand and one testers… one thousand eight hundred seventy-one are still online! The second day isn’t even over yet, and our Day 2 retention rate is over 90%! And the payment rate…”
He paused, swallowed hard, then continued with a shaking voice:
“The payment rate is 100%!!!! Every single tester has paid something. One of the players with a dedicated test code… spent 120,000 yuan!!!”
“…”
“…”
“…”
The entire studio went dead silent.
Everyone stared at Tang Yao’s back, wide-eyed, jaws slack.
Day 2 retention rate—meaning the percentage of users who return the next day—was one of the most critical indicators of a game’s potential.
And these people were all from Mingyu Tech—they knew exactly what those numbers meant.
In this world, analytics firms had published industry reports stating:
If a game’s Day 2 retention rate was over 40%, it was already considered a success.
Ninety percent… and a 100% payment rate…?
This was astronomical!!!!!
Everyone was frozen in place. In that stunned silence—
Tang Yao was the first to recover. She took a deep breath, raised both hands to her chest, then jumped up on the spot. Her long hair swayed as she bounced with joy.
“YESSSSS!!!!”
“OPEN BETA!! PREP FOR OPEN BETA IMMEDIATELY!!!”