From the complexity of Mingchao Xiakong’s materials, we can see the profound reflection of human nature in modern games

In this electronic virtual world, Mingchao’s new five-star resonator Xiakong’s cultivation materials are meticulous and complicated, just like a heavy burden in reality, and the layers of materials are dazzling. 29 low-frequency eclipse sail cores, 40 medium-frequency eclipse sail cores, 52 high-frequency eclipse sail cores, 61 full-frequency eclipse sail cores, 46 burning phosphorus bones, 60 golden fleeces, and countless crystallized phlogists… The accumulation of these numbers seems to bring hope to players, but it is actually a cage that traps people in endless climbing.

These so-called “materials” are nothing more than shackles used by the modern game industry to lock people’s hearts. For the illusory “growth”, players constantly shuttle between dungeons and bosses, spending time and money, but it is difficult to get real satisfaction. This is not the progress of the game, but the degeneration of the spirit, and the manifestation of people being restrained by invisible hands.

The source of the burning phosphorus bone – defeating the sighing ancient dragon, this is not a simple battle, but a game between the player and his own desires and frustrations. The sound of the dragon sighing seems to be a metaphor for the inner anxiety of modern people. We are like imprisoned animals, struggling in competition and pressure day after day, being knocked down at any time, and being forced to stand up at any time. That endless torture is a true portrayal of contemporary society.

The golden fleece, this ancient mythological symbol, has become an item that can be bought and sold in the game, and there are also rules for limited purchases. Ideals are commoditized here and become something that can be measured by money. Many people in modern society are also like this, exchanging all the good things for bargaining chips. Has anyone ever stopped to think about what kind of nothingness and emptiness is hidden behind this golden fleece?

Let’s talk about the layers of advancement of crystallized phlogiston, impurities, rough extraction, distillation, and high purity. On the surface, it seems to be a ladder for character growth, but in fact it is a bottomless pit of consumption. Players are constantly asked to invest more time and money. This design is tantamount to the exploitation of people’s hearts by modern capital. When people pursue a higher level of “purity”, they actually get deeper and deeper and lose themselves.

The same is true for Xia Kong’s special weapon development. From simple shackles to special shackles, the upgrade of the ring is no less than adding weight to the player’s chains. Players are willing to be bound by these virtual shackles just to exchange for that momentary sense of achievement. Isn’t such an achievement an illusion designed by capital, the result of ruthless exploitation in industrial games?

The complexity and tediousness of the resonance circuit materials can’t help but make people wonder: Is this a growth path designed for players, or a bottomless consumption trap designed for manufacturers? The “Day of Iris Blooming” can only be obtained through weekly challenges. The time limit and scarcity create a “sense of rarity” and stimulate players to invest more. The so-called “stuffed meat tofu” bonus, even if it is just a small efficiency improvement, has become an indispensable catalyst. Making a fuss about small details is a conspiracy that makes people add money invisibly.

The existence of the recharge platform is undoubtedly the core of this entire game economic chain. Players use real money to buy virtual moon phases to accelerate their growth. This kind of strength built up with money has long been out of the nature of fair competition. Treabar’s discount code temptation and discounts make players continue to sink into the ocean of consumption and forget the original meaning of the game. The claws of capital have reached the spiritual world, and games have become a new commodity consumption field.

Looking at the entire Xiakong material cultivation system, it is not a simple game design, but a spiritual slavery of people by modern capitalist society. People are trapped by these countless materials and complex conditions and lost in the virtual world. Games should originally be a means of entertainment and leisure, but they have been distorted into a cage of time and money.

Like Ah Q in Lu Xun’s works, players deceive themselves and paralyze themselves in the virtual world, hoping for tomorrow’s growth and breakthrough, but they don’t know that this is the sadness of being led by the game rule designers step by step. Should we stop and examine the real dilemma behind this virtual game? Should we reflect on the modern people’s definition of “growth” and break free from the invisible chains?

The material world of Mingchao Xiazora is not only a game world, but also a microcosm of the modern human spirit. The desires, struggles and disillusionments in it are the inevitable portrayal of our times. I hope that one day, players will no longer be burdened by endless materials, and can truly find the fun of the game and their own freedom.