Giving Interstellar Players a Horror Ghost Game Shock - Chapter 9

“Dear Producer Miss Ye,

After careful evaluation, your work Night of Campus Horror: May Bridge has met the signing standards. The platform is willing to offer a 60-40 revenue split agreement, with platform rights to act as the sole copyright agent. Please review the terms.”

Following this message, the so-called representative sent a document over 20 pages long.

As Ye Yuxi skimmed through it, her frown deepened.

“…Excuse me, does the 60-40 split mean the platform takes 60%, and I take 40%? I thought the standard agreement typically gave 60% to the creator and 40% to the platform?”

In the interstellar era, creators’ rights across industries were highly valued, and detailed guidelines were in place for profit-sharing.

Unless a platform provided paid marketing or contributed to the development process, the content creator was entitled to the majority of the revenue. For individual designers, a 60-40 split in favor of the creator was the norm, and big companies could negotiate up to 70-30.

This was clearly stated on Feixun’s official website as well.

However, upon questioning this, the representative’s tone shifted, becoming curt. They sent over several lengthy replies in rapid succession:

“Judging by your account, you seem to be a newly registered designer? For newcomers without prior achievements, it’s standard to offer lower revenue splits. Also, your game falls under the niche horror genre, which is less marketable. These signing terms are standard. That said, we offer great perks, such as a one-time new designer bonus of 1,000 star credits.”

“Oh, by the way, as stated in the contract, we will handle all copyright representation. Once the game is live, we’ll handle labeling and marketing. We’ve decided not to tag it as a horror game but as an escape-action game instead. Horror games aren’t trending right now—even zombie-themed games with higher popularity are being rebranded as escape-action titles.”

“Additionally, after signing the contract, the original creator is not permitted to engage in marketing. All promotional activities will be fully handled by us. Please do not contact streamers to promote your game privately or share game data with others. If you breach this, we reserve the right to pursue legal action.”

“Lastly, the launch window for Feixun’s flagship titles is approaching. During this period, we won’t allocate many resources for other games. Marketing for your game would likely start next month and include a homepage feature. No objections, right?”

The representative’s tone was so presumptuous that it seemed as if the contract was already signed and the copyright sold.

By the time Ye Yuxi finished reading, she couldn’t help but laugh in disbelief.

Who does this person think they’re ordering around? With this attitude, you’d think this was a multimillion-star-credits buyout, not an unequal contract where the platform takes 60% while snatching copyright rights for free!

She wasn’t some clueless newbie. In this industry, designers who upload their work to a platform usually retain the game’s copyright, giving up only 30-40% in fees and exclusive first-release rights. Marketing could be outsourced for an additional fee. Unless the platform outright bought the game, there was no reason to surrender copyright.

And “great perks”? she thought with disdain. In this era, star credits have about the same purchasing power as the yuan from my past life. A mere 1,000 credits? That’s barely worth 20 sales! How is that better than taking my fair share of the revenue?

Her admiration for this “coolly named” platform evaporated entirely. Without hesitation, she sent back a message rejecting the offer.

“I think I might not be a good fit for your platform. I won’t consider signing the contract—please withdraw my submission.”

On the other end of the conversation, a man sitting in the office burst into a mocking laugh.

“Newbies these days are really bold, huh? We at Feixun are offering her an opportunity, and she’s turning her nose up at it?”

Feixun Representative:
Miss Ye, we approached this collaboration with sincerity. We hope you reconsider. Horror games are a niche genre. While your game has innovative elements, it’s important to consider whether players will actually embrace it. Without platforms like ours, other platforms likely lack the player base to support your trial and error.

Miss Ye:
I see Feixun doesn’t have much confidence in my game. To avoid wasting your time on trial and error, I’d rather handle it myself. Thanks, but no thanks.

“What kind of person is this?!” The man was so infuriated by her sarcastic tone that he nearly smashed his mouse.

Tall and lanky, his sharp, predatory gaze was infamous for closing deals that favored the platform with minimal expense. His shrewdness had earned him the trust of Feixun’s CEO, who had promoted him to team leader.

Barely managing to suppress his anger, he sent one last reply:

“Let’s see if any other platform dares to take the risk of signing your game!”

Then he turned to his team members, barking an order:

“Remove Night of Campus Horror from the signing pool. And if this designer with the ID ‘Miss Ye’ submits another game, make sure I’m informed immediately.”

Initially, he had been tempted to blacklist her outright. But upon reflection, he couldn’t bear to let go of Night of Campus Horror.

He had tried the game for five minutes earlier and found it impressive. However, he knew it would require significant marketing effort upfront. With Feixun’s current focus on promoting star designer Chu Yuanming’s latest game, they couldn’t dedicate much to another project right now. Still, he thought Night of Campus Horror could be a solid choice for next month’s main push.

The man was convinced that smaller platforms wouldn’t dare invest the necessary resources to promote such a game. He expected that Miss Ye would eventually come crawling back, humbled and desperate. When that happened, he planned to negotiate even harsher terms.

A flicker of twisted greed crossed his eyes.

Meanwhile, Ye Yuxi was thoroughly disgusted by the entire interaction with Feixun.

The feeling of someone trying to manipulate and control her was deeply unpleasant. She couldn’t help but fantasize about creating her own platform someday—a fully integrated system with an end-to-end industry chain.

But for now, that was an impossible dream. She lacked both the funding and the connections to pull it off.

Taking a sip of water to calm her nerves, she received a notification from DouDou.

Truth be told, her faith in big platforms had dwindled after Feixun’s arrogant behavior. But she decided to take a quick look.

“Huh?”

DouDou Representative:
Dear Producer Miss Ye, hello! After a thorough discussion among our review team, we unanimously believe this game is absolutely amazing! May we trouble you to add ID: “LuoDiChengHe” on VChat? We are sincerely eager to discuss the signing terms with you.

Ye Yuxi raised an eyebrow.

Oh? This platform’s attitude… seemed to have potential.