The Cayenne stopped at the university's south gate.
Pei Qian was about to step out of the car.
From the driver's seat, Assistant Xin reached over with a slender, graceful hand, holding a delicate cardholder.
"As you previously requested, I've rented a two-bedroom apartment for you near the university. The access card and keys are inside."
Pei Qian didn't immediately accept it; instead, he carefully observed the system's reaction.
Good—no response from the system. That meant it was allowed!
Buying clothes and renting apartments might seem unrelated to company operations, but they were indeed tied to his personal image as the company boss.
After all, he couldn't just dump those expensive suits in his dorm room.
And if he had to work overtime or go on business trips, dorm restrictions might lock him in after curfew. That would severely disrupt his plans.
Thus, renting an apartment was completely reasonable!
Besides, the rent wasn't even expensive. He'd already spent tens of thousands on suits; how much could an apartment rental cost?
It was 2009, after all. Even a high-end, fully furnished two-bedroom apartment in Handong wouldn't exceed 2,000 yuan per month.
Unlike ten years later, when a cramped, shabby one-bedroom in Beijing would easily cost 7,000 or 8,000 yuan.
Since the system didn't object, Pei Qian felt reassured and took the cardholder.
Opening it slightly, he found a key, an access card, and a small note. On it was the apartment's address, written neatly in Assistant Xin's graceful handwriting.
The apartment complex was conveniently located just a short distance—no more than a few dozen meters—from the university's south gate.
"Then please rest well. Your newly purchased clothes will be delivered directly to your apartment within a few days."
The Cayenne drove off.
Pei Qian felt quite pleased.
The system didn't restrict these actions, making him feel even more at ease.
Swiping the access card, Pei Qian entered the upscale apartment complex near the school.
Previously, he had only observed this place from afar and had never stepped inside.
Following the address on the note, he quickly found his new apartment.
When he opened the door, Pei Qian was slightly shocked.
Although described as a two-bedroom unit, it felt spacious enough to rival many three-bedroom apartments. He estimated it was at least 130 to 140 square meters.
Fully furnished, with every necessary piece of furniture.
Even bedding, sheets, towels, toiletries—everything was meticulously prepared.
This was truly move-in ready.
In fact, he didn't even need to bring a bag; everything was provided.
Pei Qian sat down on the sofa and instantly lost the desire to get up again.
Compared to this, his dormitory felt like a cage.
No—actually, cages were probably larger and more comfortable!
After enjoying a lazy moment on the sofa, Pei Qian pulled himself together and prepared to get serious.
He couldn't lose focus—he still had dreams to pursue!
And he still hadn't spent all the money!
Pei Qian summoned the system interface and checked his current financial situation:
[Wealth Conversion System]
[Host: Pei Qian]
[Profit Conversion Ratio: 100:1 | Loss Conversion Ratio: 1:1]
[System Funds: 271,145.5 yuan (↓228,854.5)]
[Personal Assets: 1,957.6 yuan]
The income in the first week was over 500,000 yuan, the second week was around 700,000 yuan, and the third week's earnings hadn't yet arrived but were estimated to be around 700,000 to 800,000 yuan.
His earlier estimate of a monthly revenue around 5 million yuan seemed fairly accurate, though perhaps slightly conservative.
Renting office space had already cost over 700,000 yuan upfront, with another 300,000 yuan or so due each month afterward.
The planned office equipment purchases, totaling roughly 800,000 yuan, hadn't yet been spent. Pei Qian planned to immediately spend that money once next week's funds arrived.
Expenses like clothes, car rental, and apartment rental, totaling over 100,000 yuan, now seemed trivial to Pei Qian.
He still had some system funds remaining, but measured against his original 500,000 yuan baseline, he'd already managed to lose over 200,000 yuan!
This was excellent progress!
Of course, there was still more to do.
He'd rented the office space, but now he needed employees. Keeping such a large office empty would trigger a violation warning from the system.
"Let's see... who should I hire?"
"Highly talented people are definitely out—they'd disrupt my plans."
"But completely incompetent people won't do either; I still need to complete a functional game to meet the system's requirements."
"Hmm... this requires careful consideration."
The more Pei Qian thought about it, the harder it seemed.
However, for his current and future happiness, the more difficult it was, the more determined he became.
After much deliberation, Pei Qian arrived at one conclusion:
He couldn't just rely on online recruitment—he had to seek out talent himself!
Posting job ads online would only attract people who believed themselves qualified.
Some of the people he's looking for might doubt themselves and never apply through normal recruitment channels.
In other words, the bottom line was still too high.
Advertisements posted online naturally had to sound professional. Pei Qian couldn't openly write "Slackers wanted" in job postings, or the system would immediately flag it as a violation.
Having just one trusted confidant like Ma Yang wasn't enough.
But where else could he find a unique talent like Ma Yang?
After some deep thought, Pei Qian suddenly remembered someone.
If he could persuade this person to come out of hiding, his grand scheme would definitely succeed!
. . .
Pei Qian visited three different internet cafes near the university before finally locating the person he had in mind.
This individual was somewhat unpredictable. Generally speaking, though, he was either in one internet cafe or another—or somewhere between them.
Perhaps growing tired of staying in the same cafe for too long, he occasionally moved to a new spot, spending ten days or even half a month there.
This legendary figure was named Bao Xu, but the people in internet cafes affectionately called him "Bao Su"—a pun meaning "overnight package."
The phrase "hardcore grinder" hadn't yet become popular in 2009, but calling Bao Xu simply "hardcore" would greatly underestimate him.
"Ultra Hardcore Grinder" suited him better!
At present, Bao Xu wasn't widely known, but soon his name would echo throughout campus, known by virtually everyone.
Two legendary incidents would soon spread his fame:
First, during his freshman year, he spent months—from late winter and early spring until the hot summer—immersed in the internet cafe, continuously grinding through games.
When summer arrived, while everyone else wore shorts and T-shirts, he still wore sweaters and thermal underwear, with his jacket casually hung over the back of his chair.
Why? Because he never returned to his dorm and certainly had no time to change clothes.
When tired, he simply reclined his chair and took brief naps.
Waking up, he'd splash water on his face and continue gaming, completely ignoring the changing seasons.
After this, he gained the nickname "Brother Thermal Underwear."
Second, during his sophomore year, he failed so many subjects that the university advised him to leave.
After being expelled, he simply continued living in internet cafes.
His family couldn't reach him and even feared he might have died.
Bao Xu survived by power-leveling characters, grinding achievements for others, and reselling game equipment online, residing in internet cafes for two or three years straight.
He was a true legend.
Of course, in most people's eyes, he represented severe gaming addiction and probably needed professional help.
But Pei Qian saw potential hidden beneath.
Bao Xu was undeniably a hardcore gamer—a walking encyclopedia who knew most games inside out. Ask him about any game detail, and he'd answer without hesitation.
Hiring such a devoted gamer as an employee would be perfectly reasonable, right?
Of course, first, he needed to tidy up his personal hygiene a bit.
Moreover, Pei Qian valued another important trait: Bao Xu excelled at playing games but knew absolutely nothing about game design!
Such a person could easily lose their way.
For instance, someone aspiring to become a good chef certainly needed the ability to distinguish good food from bad.
However, if someone had exceptionally picky taste, could they necessarily become a good chef?
Usually, the answer was no.
Excessively critical people often struggled even more as chefs, unable to balance their personal preferences with broader tastes.
There was always a delicate balance to strike.
Game designers indeed needed passion and love for games, but too much passion could cloud judgment. Overenthusiasm often led people to mistake their personal tastes for those of ordinary players.
Therefore, Pei Qian believed Bao Xu was precisely the kind of employee he needed.
On one hand, Bao Xu was a passionate and skilled gamer—hiring him at a slightly inflated salary wouldn't violate any system rules.
On the other hand, Bao Xu lacked any real skill or knowledge in game design, and he would likely obsess over insignificant details, inadvertently ruining projects.
What a perfect employee!
However, Pei Qian wasn't entirely confident he could persuade Bao Xu.
After all, this was someone whose own family came to believe might have died 2 years later.
It was difficult to imagine what could possibly lure him away from his internet cafe life.
- - - - - -
If you want to see more chapter of this fic for free, please go to my Scribblehub Account[1], I cross-poted this fic in there too.
Link: https://www.scribblehub.com/series/1589938/losing-money-to-become-a-tycoon-starting-with-games/[2]
[1] https://www.scribblehub.com/series/1589938/losing-money-to-become-a-tycoon-starting-with-games/
[2] https://www.scribblehub.com/series/1589938/losing-money-to-become-a-tycoon-starting-with-games/