You were supposed to have a fake marriage with the diva, so how did you become her father?

Chapter 477 Underhanded Tactics



Chapter 477 Underhanded Tactics

Having decided to go to war with Tencent, Lu Ran didn't sit idle.

In Zhou Mingzhe's office, before the phone call was even ended, Lu Ran was already standing in front of the whiteboard and starting to draw.

He drew two lines, one pointing downwards, representing the pace of TUTU's next user-independent system rollout.

The other path, going upwards, represents a possible counterattack route for Tencent.

Two lines meet in the middle, and the point of intersection is inscribed with three words: "Declaration of War Day".

Zhou Mingzhe hung up the phone and walked in. He glanced at the whiteboard, and without wasting any words, asked directly, "When will the announcement be issued?"

"Now," Lu Ran capped his pen, "have the operations department revise that backup announcement, make the tone a bit harsher, and change 'due to the partner's unilateral changes' to 'due to the partner's unilateral breach of contract. Have the lawyer check if the wording is correct, and if not, send it out."

Chen Mo stood at the door with a teacup in his hand: "Sending it out is like tearing off all pretense of civility."

"They've already lost all face." Lu Ran turned around. "The day they threatened players with the login interface, they completely tore off their mask. We're just bringing this up in the open."

Ten minutes later, the operations department's notice was written, revised, signed, and released.

The announcement was short, consisting of three paragraphs.

The first paragraph states that TUTU noted that the partner made a unilateral request to adjust the login method for League of Legends.

The second paragraph clearly states that TUTU will do its utmost to ensure a normal gaming experience for all players, and recommends that players who have not yet bound their TUTU accounts complete the binding process as soon as possible.

The third paragraph is the only one in the entire announcement that carries a sharp tone: "We firmly believe that the value of a good game should not be hijacked by any channel."

The player's choice is the only answer.

After the announcement was released, the official TUTU comment section was flooded with thousands of comments within ten minutes.

"Finally, I don't have to open WeChat every time I log into the game anymore?"

"So I can log in with my TUTU account now? Will my skin still be there?"

"Is Tencent trying to turn the gaming industry into a monopoly?"

"TUTU, well done! I've been fed up with WeChat's login system for a long time; you have to scan a QR code just to log into a game."

The comments section contained both supporters and those who were observing, but no one was criticizing TUTU.

This gave Lu Ran peace of mind.

He sat at his desk for over ten minutes reading the comments section, then closed the page, stood up, and went to the conference room.

The conference room was already full of people.

Zhou Mingzhe sat at one end of the long table, Chen Mo sat near the door, Lao Wang and Zhao Yiming sat next to each other, and the heads of the operations department and the legal department each occupied one side.

All eyes were on Lu Ran, waiting for him to speak.

Lu Ran walked to the whiteboard, picked up a pen, and wrote a few words on it: "What's next?"

He turned to face the crowd: "The announcement has been issued, which is tantamount to a formal declaration of war. Tencent will not let this go easily; they will do three things—first, cut off or limit the WeChat login interface. Second, block TUTU's Google Ads campaign on all Tencent-affiliated channels. Third, coordinate with other companies to launch a joint attack. We need to prepare countermeasures for all three of these things in advance, but what I want to talk about today is not defense, but offense."

Zhou Mingzhe put down his pen: "Are you planning to take the initiative?"

"Yes." Lu Ran erased a section of the whiteboard and rewrote two words—"public opinion".

"We definitely can't compete with Tencent head-on; the size difference is too great. But we can wage a war of public opinion. Tencent has accumulated just as much dirt on us over the years, but nobody's bothered to dig it up. Now that they've torn off the mask first, we don't need to play hard to get anymore."

Lu Ran drew a circle on the whiteboard: "The first line—internet trolls. Find a professional PR company, buy a batch of troll accounts, and simultaneously publish negative information about Tencent on Weibo, Baidu Tieba, and various sections of TUTU. The focus is on three things—the old case of WeChat user data leaks, the past leak of League of Legends data when Tencent invested in Sakura Games, and the unreasonable practice of WeChat forcibly bundling game logins."

The Ministry of Justice representative raised their hand: "There is no substantial evidence in that old data breach case."

"No evidence is needed," Lu Ran said. "We just need to remind users that this happened. The online trolls are only responsible for mentioning it, not for proving it. Netizens will search for it themselves and make their own judgments. We only guide, we don't spread rumors."

Chen Mo nodded and added a line of text below the whiteboard: "Topic guidance: Tencent's monopolistic practices."

Lu Ran continued, "The second line of reasoning is patriotism. When Tencent partnered with Sakura Games, there was a memorandum of understanding that stipulated joint development of the Chinese market. Many people in the industry know about this, but it has never been made public. I'll anonymously post the key content of that memorandum online, and I've already thought of a title—'Why is China's leading game company extending an olive branch to a Japanese giant?'"

Someone whistled in the office.

Old Wang leaned back in his chair and muttered, "That's a pretty underhanded trick."

"Shady? That's it." Lu Ran picked up a pen and drew another circle on the whiteboard. "When they threatened us with the login interface, they didn't think about what shady meant. We're just letting them see what they did back then."

Chen Mo chimed in, "I remember the contents of the memorandum. We did sign an agreement back then, which roughly stipulated that both parties would mutually open up their channels and traffic in the Chinese market. Although it didn't involve core technologies and products, it's perfectly reasonable to interpret that agreement as 'Tencent helping Sakura Games enter the Chinese market.'"

"That's enough," Lu Ran said. "With the current tensions between China and Japan, netizens are already sensitive about Japanese companies entering the Chinese market. Once this memorandum is leaked, Tencent's official response will only have two options—either admit it and explain, or deny it and then more details will be dug up. Neither path is easy."

The atmosphere in the meeting room began to liven up.

Before, everyone was tense, but after hearing Lu Ran's two lines, some people leaned back in their chairs and crossed their legs, some looked down at their phones and typed, and some whispered to the people next to them about the details.

Zhao Yiming was the first to raise his hand: "President Lu, I have a suggestion. Could the tech team do something—add a 'Login Time Comparison' feature to the TUTU standalone login page, allowing users to test the speed difference between WeChat login and TUTU login themselves? If Tencent really tampered with the interface to slow down login, this feature would automatically record it, and a screenshot could be sent out as ready-made evidence."

Lu Ran thought for a moment: "Could we make it an automatic recording system? We don't need users to test it manually. We can just launch a login time monitoring system in the backend and generate a comparison report every day. If the response time for WeChat login is significantly longer than that for TUTU, we can anonymously send the report to several gaming media outlets."

"It can be done. It can be launched in two days." Zhao Yiming quickly jotted down a few notes in his notebook.

A female employee from the operations department then raised her hand: "President Lu, I also have an idea. Tencent has made such a big move this time, there must be dissenting voices within the company. We can contact mid-level employees at Tencent who have opinions on this decision through headhunting firms. We don't need to poach them; as long as they are willing to anonymously reveal some inside information, we can know Tencent's next move in advance."

Lu Ran glanced at her: "This idea is good, but we need to be careful in execution. We can't let people think we're poaching talent; we can only do normal information gathering through a third-party headhunting firm."

"clear."

Another young colleague raised his hand: "President Lu, in terms of the information war, could we do one more thing—package the TUTU account's customizable number feature as a concept of 'digital sovereignty' and promote it. The gist is that players' digital assets should be controlled by the players themselves, rather than being tied to a company's social media account. This concept is likely to trend on social media and resonate with many."

After hearing this, Lu Ran remained silent for two seconds, then picked up a pen and wrote four words on the whiteboard: "Digital Sovereignty".

After finishing writing, he turned to his young colleague and asked, "What's your name?"

"He Bin, he's only been in the operations department for two months."

"That's an excellent idea. Prepare a detailed conceptual packaging plan and send it to me tomorrow. If it's well-done, you'll take the lead on this project."

He Bin paused for a moment, then nodded heavily and began typing.

For the next half hour, the meeting room turned into a massive brainstorming session.

Some have suggested creating a dedicated "Player Rights" section on the TUTU community to focus on discussing issues of account independence and data security.

Someone suggested making an animated short film that uses a cute art style to explain "why your game account shouldn't be hijacked by social media platforms".

Some people went even further, suggesting adding an Easter egg to the League of Legends game so that players would see a hidden message on the login screen: "Your account, your rules."

The suggestions were varied, some serious, some not, and one or two were clearly jokes—for example, a programmer raised his hand and said, "Could we tamper with the router at Tencent headquarters?", only to be slapped back into his seat by Lao Wang.

Lu Ran stood in front of the whiteboard and listened without interrupting anyone.

He noticed that the atmosphere in the meeting room was completely different from what it had been half an hour earlier.

When the meeting started, everyone looked tense, with a sense of unease that "a tough battle is about to begin."

Now that the taut lines have relaxed, some people have started to laugh, some have started to joke with each other, and some have been leaning back in their chairs with their legs crossed, holding teacups, as if they were talking about something that had nothing to do with them.

This change wasn't because they found a sure-fire way to win, but because they discovered that the situation wasn't as terrible as they thought.

No matter how big Tencent is, we can find its weaknesses and vulnerabilities.

It is not a monolithic entity; it has historical issues, internal conflicts, and risks related to public opinion.

Although TUTU is small, it can draw blood with a single punch if it hits the right spot.

Lu Ran waited until everyone's discussion came to a close before speaking again: "Okay. I've noted down all the suggestions you made. The operations department will be responsible for the online marketing campaign and topic guidance, the legal department will assist with compliance reviews, the technology department will implement the login time monitoring function, and He Bin will be responsible for packaging the 'digital sovereignty' concept. Within a week, each of you should develop an executable plan for your respective areas."

He paused after speaking, his gaze sweeping across the conference room: "Furthermore, I want to emphasize one thing—we're fighting a business war, not a gangland brawl. Someone just suggested tampering with things offline; this is the first and last time. Don't bring it up again. TUTU Technology is a legal and compliant company. We make games, platforms, and content; we don't do anything illegal. Anyone who crosses this line is fired."

The programmer who suggested the router shrank back. His colleague patted him on the shoulder and whispered, "You almost got fired." The programmer replied, "I was just joking." The two chuckled quietly for a while.

The atmosphere in the meeting room had completely relaxed.

Some people started organizing their notes, some were confirming the details of their tasks with the people next to them, and some were carrying their cups to the tea room to get water, humming a song as they went.

Chen Mo stood up and walked to Lu Ran's side. He glanced at the dense writing on the whiteboard and said in a low voice, "If we win this time, TUTU won't be in the second tier anymore."

Lu Ran capped his pen: "We'll talk about it after we win. We haven't won yet."

But when he turned around and walked back to his seat, the corners of his mouth were turned up.

After the meeting ended, Lu Ran did not leave the conference room immediately.

He sat back down and reviewed the key points he had written on the whiteboard, making sure he hadn't missed anything. Then he took out his phone, snapped a picture, and saved it to his album.

When he put his phone away, he saw He Bin still sitting in the corner, typing with his head down. He walked over and asked, "What are you still doing here?"

He Bin looked up, his expression showing the tension that comes with being called out: "I'm writing the first draft of that digital sovereignty plan. I'm afraid it will take too long, so I'm striking while the iron is hot and outlining a framework first."

Lu Ran glanced at the document on his screen; the title was already written: "Digital Sovereignty: Returning Players' Accounts to the Players."

Below the title are a few rough points, the ideas are clear and the logic is smooth.

After reading it, Lu Ran said, "Well done," and turned to leave the conference room.

The lights were still on in the corridor, and several colleagues from the operations department were gathered at the entrance of the break room discussing the selection of channels for online marketing campaigns.

Someone saw Lu Ran pass by and shouted, "Don't worry, President Lu, we'll definitely handle the public opinion situation well for you." Lu Ran waved his hand and said, "Don't make any promises. Think things through before you act," and then continued walking towards his office.

His phone vibrated as he pushed open the door. It was a message from Chen Mo, containing only one line: "Tencent should have seen the announcement by now. Let's see how they respond."

Lu Ran replied with a single word: "Okay."

After putting down his phone, he sat in his office chair and stared at the ceiling for a while.

He was thinking about the concept He Bin had mentioned—digital sovereignty.

This argument is indeed much more powerful than "try a different login method".

Players don't care what technology you use, but they do care whether they have control over their own accounts.

If this concept can be packaged as a social issue and disseminated, then TUTU's stance will no longer be just a business game, but rather a player standing against channel monopolies.

Once this position is established, no matter how many measures Tencent uses to block it, the balance of public opinion will not completely tip in favor of the other side.

In his memo, Lu Ran marked the words "digital sovereignty" with an asterisk and added a note after it: "Focus on long-term strategy, not just short-term public relations."

After finishing all that, he leaned back in his chair and felt that the day had been exceptionally long.

From receiving the email from Tencent in the morning to finishing the meeting in the evening, only a dozen hours had passed, but what happened felt like several days' worth of events compressed together.

Lu Ran looked out the window for a while, then turned off his computer, stood up, picked up his coat, and left the office.

As he passed by the technical department, he glanced inside. Zhao Yiming was still there, with all three monitors lit up. He was looking down at the keyboard, typing something.

Next to it was a cup of coffee that had gone cold and a bowl of unopened instant noodles.

Lu Ran didn't knock on the door, but tiptoed over.

The employees are working even harder than I am; there will definitely be good news the next morning.

...


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