“Streamer, streamer, MiJiYou really went all out with this Genshin VR port! I just got the gear yesterday, and the immersion is off the charts! How much better do you think it feels compared to the regular PC version?”
“+1! I’m stuck on the Raiden boss fight in Inazuma. When she slashed at me in VR, my palms were literally sweating! Brother Cheng, did you feel that level of immersion when you cleared it?”
“Streamer, streamer! What do you think about the story presentation in VR? I care so much about cutscene immersion! Is it way better than watching on a monitor?”
Bullet comments scrolled like a flowing stream along the right side of the live stream. Pale blue speech bubbles overflowed with questions from viewers, interspersed with special effects from gifts floating down into the gift bar at the bottom of the screen.
Soft blue virtual bullet comments floated at the edge of the streamer Zhong Cheng’s vision, semi-transparently overlaid on top of the Genshin VR gameplay.
At this moment, he was lying inside a silver-gray gaming pod.
Zhong Cheng tilted his head slightly, a careless smile touching his eyes as he responded to the viewers in his chat room:
“I just caught everyone's questions. The immersion of Genshin VR really exceeds expectations.”
His voice carried over smoothly, infused with just the right amount of gentle warmth.
“For instance, while exploring the map, you get to take in so many beautiful views.”
“As for the difference from the old PC version, I think the most obvious aspect is the story interaction. When I did the 'Rite of Descension' quest earlier, I could see the fine details on old man Zhongli's robes right up close in VR. You can even feel the draft when he speaks—that kind of immersion is something a flat screen just can't give you.”
“I cleared the Raiden boss fight last week,” he chuckled, a hint of playfulness flashing in his eyes. “When that blade came slashing down, I instinctively dodged backward—so you're not the only one getting sweaty palms. Though the difficulty of the VR version hasn't been raised, the immersion is so strong that it's easy to make people nervous.”
The chat flooded with "hahahaha," and someone asked, "Streamer, do you care more about VR story or controls?"
Zhong Cheng lightly tapped the control panel with his fingertips. A Wind Glider instantly unfurled behind his back as he prepared to glide toward The Chasm.
“Personally, I definitely lean toward the story,” he admitted frankly.
“Honestly, in all my time as a streamer, the part that takes up the most time during reviews is breaking down the story. Genshin's worldbuilding is so complete, and the VR version amplifies that completeness—for example, deep beneath The Chasm, you can hear echoes of an ancient civilization. Details like that move me far more than control responsiveness.”
“And as you all know,” he paused, his gaze becoming more serious on camera, “I’m a bit different from other gaming streamers; I don't really care for just showing off mechanics. Whether a game's story holds up and whether its characters have compelling arcs are the key factors that make me willing to spend time playing and reviewing it. VR is merely a vessel—the core remains the game's actual content.”
The chat expressed agreement across the board, comments floating by like "Big God Nan Cheng's plot breakdowns are always the most detailed" and "I followed this channel specifically for the reviews."
Zhong Cheng glanced at the time. The numbers in the bottom right corner of the screen read 10:30 PM. He rubbed the space between his brows.
“It's getting late, so let's call it a night here. Tomorrow, I'll release an in-depth review of the Sumeru storyline in VR, so feel free to stick around for that if you're interested.”
“Don't go yet, streamer! Play a little longer!”
“Please stream longer! I haven't had enough of the desert scenery in VR yet!”
Zhong Cheng gave a helpless smile. “Next time. I've been staying up late rushing reviews lately, so I need to rest up.”
Just as he was about to hit the "End Stream" button, a striking golden comment suddenly floated across the center of the screen. It was a pinned comment sent by a Channel Captain, "Star Roamer":
“Brother Cheng! Brother Cheng! A new game just came out, claiming to be an epoch-making masterpiece called 《Glorious Era》! Word is it's virtual reality too, even crazier than Genshin VR! Have you checked it out?”
This comment was immediately bumped up by the chat:
“《Glorious Era》? I think I scrolled past an ad for that!”
“Never heard of it. Is it really hyping itself that hard?”
“Epoch-making? Don't tell me it's another cash grab.”
Zhong Cheng's finger paused over the "End Stream" button, his brows knitting almost imperceptibly.
“《Glorious Era》?” he repeated the name under his breath, a flash of disdain passing through his eyes.
Is this another piece of trash pumped out by some tiny indie studio?
He couldn't be blamed for thinking that way. The quality of recently released games had been abysmal, with developers focused entirely on quick cash grabs. He didn't even want to talk about it—especially a certain game from Luo Nation, where word had it they'd even swapped out their developers and management. Who knew what they were thinking?
These newly released games might have decent promotional campaigns, but once people actually got their hands on them, they fell far short of expectations.
One could only say they poured their hearts into the CG trailers and designed the actual gameplay with their feet.
Bah! If you don't have the development skills, just don't make games!
Zhong Cheng complained silently in his heart.
Take Interstellar, which launched just two months ago: during promotion, it claimed to be the "pinnacle of open-world games." Yet after logging in, players found nothing but repetitive quests, convoluted narrative logic, and even bugs in its basic physics engine. He had closed it after playing for three hours, not even bothering to write a review because there was truly nothing worth analyzing.
Then there was Total War, which he had tested last week. Its VR device compatibility was absurdly awful—screen tearing, audio delay, and even glitches where characters got stuck inside map geometry and couldn't get out.
Most of these so-called "new blockbuster games" were simply riding the virtual reality hype train to grab cash, spending all their budget on marketing while their core content was a complete disaster.
Zhong Cheng had seen far too many games like this, to the point where whenever he saw terms like "epoch-making" or "masterpiece" nowadays, his immediate reaction was skepticism.
He smiled at the camera, his tone even. “Thanks for the recommendation, Captain. I’ll look into it later. Though, as you all know, the quality of recent VR games hasn't been great—mostly all talk and no action. We’ll have to see how it actually plays before judging.”
Without saying anything more, he clicked the "End Stream" button.
The stream screen instantly switched to a static banner reading "Streamer Nan Cheng has gone offline."
Without further word, he confirmed ending the stream via voice command.
The stream display in his virtual vision vanished in an instant, replaced by the gaming pod's inner interface displaying: "Stream Ended. Saving Data..."
Zhong Cheng exited the game and pressed the button to open the hatch. Accompanying a soft depressurization sound, the top canopy of the gaming pod slowly rose.
Fresh air surged into the pod. He took a deep breath and sat up.
Only a single warm yellow floor lamp was lit in the room. The cold glow of the gaming pod intertwined with the lamplight, reflecting off his somewhat exhausted face.
He rubbed his eyes, stood up, and poured a glass of warm water. His eyes landed on the gaming pod in the corner—this "Star Voyage X-7" was something he had bought with six months of savings after graduating from college last year, specifically to experience VR games more precisely and create more authentic reviews.
As a young gaming streamer known for his story breakdowns, his standards for games were indeed higher than most.
It wasn't just about graphics and controls; more importantly, it was about narrative completeness and emotional resonance.
The reason Genshin could keep him streaming it for so long was that its story held so many details worth pondering, and every character's narrative could touch people's hearts.
Meanwhile, those cheaply made new games often chased nothing but sensory stimulation, forgetting that the true essence of gaming was to convey experiences and emotions.
Taking a sip of warm water, Zhong Cheng sat back down in front of his computer.
Though he claimed not to believe the hype, staying up-to-date on new releases was a professional habit for a streamer.
He skillfully moved his mouse and opened the "Starpath" virtual game recommendation platform—the most authoritative platform in the industry. It cataloged all released and upcoming virtual reality games, with relatively objective ratings and reviews.
The platform's homepage was covered in promotional posters for various games. The most prominent spot featured an ad for the sequel to Interstellar, which Zhong Cheng glanced at before looking away.
He clicked on the "New Recommendations" category. Rows of game icons popped up on the screen, mostly reskinned games flying the flag of "VR Innovation." Their ratings were generally below 3 stars, and the comment sections were packed with complaints.
“Same old story, as expected,”
Zhong Cheng muttered quietly under his breath as his fingers scrolled through the page.
Some games didn't even have a basic plot summary, offering nothing more than a few heavily edited promotional images.
Others were piled high with flashy jargon about special effects, yet couldn't even explain their core gameplay clearly.
The more he looked, the less interested he became. His finger hovered over the mouse, ready to close the page.
Right at that moment, the golden comment from his stream suddenly flashed through his mind—“《Glorious Era》.”
He paused, then instinctively typed those four characters into the search bar.
The search results page popped up with only a single match.
The game's cover depicted a beautiful, holy blonde girl praying before a ruined angel statue, with two devout knights standing guard at her side.
“The icon design is actually quite exquisite.”
“Though... angels? Is it a fantasy game?”
Zhong Cheng raised an eyebrow.
Fantasy games weren't particularly popular domestically, though they were quite hot in Western countries, Japan, and Korea. Still, he was somewhat interested in the genre—after all, who wouldn't want to get pulled into another world and become a powerful, stylish hero?
As for the cover art, anyone could make a nice-looking cover. What really mattered was how the actual game turned out.
Although Zhong Cheng didn't place much faith in cover art, it still gave him a touch of anticipation.
“Holy crap?! Seven hundred thousand sign-ups?! What the hell?”
“Are they sure they didn't hire a bot army?”
Zhong Cheng looked at the details page with absolute shock, after which he noticed the release date of the game listing:
“It’s only been posted for two days?!”
“How is that even possible?!”
Even as he voiced his skepticism, a sudden surge of intense anticipation washed over him out of nowhere.
He then clicked into the comment section. Seeing over ten thousand comments gave Zhong Cheng another jolt of surprise.
Unless it was a major established IP, this was virtually unheard of for an unreleased VR game.
Rate on N.U.
