When talking about the game “Mingchao”, especially the character of Xiakong, players are all confused and anxious about its complex material collection system. The huge number of these materials and the difficulty of obtaining them are no longer summarized by simple game upgrades. Instead, they are like an invisible burden in the spiritual world of modern people. From this, I can’t help but think of the many hidden pains of current social life-the alienation between people, the exhaustion of the spirit, and the complex mentality of the desire for ideals and the helplessness of reality.
The materials required for the breakthrough, skill improvement and special weapon enhancement of the character of Xiakong are complicated, covering many types from low-frequency to full-frequency tide erosion sail cores, burning phosphorus bones, golden wool, and even various levels of crystallized phlogiston. These mountainous material requirements remind people of the endless pursuit and efforts in our lives. The killing of the “Sighing Ancient Dragon” and the repeated brushing of the “Condensate Field·Confession Abyss” in the game are like the struggle of countless people in reality. They work day and night, but often have limited gains and are exhausted.
The so-called “Golden Fleece” materials not only need to be obtained from specific copies, but also have weekly purchase restrictions. This artificially created sense of scarcity reminds people of the uneven distribution of resources and the urgency of time in modern society. Players are often forced to go online frequently for these limited materials, spending a lot of time and energy. In this way, the game seems to have become a concrete manifestation of spiritual shackles rather than a simple entertainment.
What is even more impressive is the level of shackles in the “special weapon materials”. From simple to special, shackles are originally restraints, but in the game they become necessary props for the advancement of powerful equipment. This design is just like modern people invisibly binding themselves to various social rules and expectations. We think we are pursuing freedom and growth, but in fact we are strengthening our shackles step by step. Perhaps this is the irony and warning hidden by the game designer: your so-called progress and strength are actually just another form of enslavement.
The various levels of crystallized phlogiston are even more thought-provoking. Players need to brush in the “Condensate Field·Confession Abyss”, from impurities to high purity, step by step. This reminds me of the purification rituals in those societies, where people constantly peel off impurities and try to find purity and authenticity in the impetuous reality. But this road is so difficult, just like the players brushing the book day after day, the spirit has long been exhausted, but they are still forced by the needs of reality.
“Iris Blooming Day” as a breakthrough material must be obtained by challenging the “Wheel of Fate Fragment” every week. The name is quite symbolic, like the wheel of fate in life, countless breaks and reorganizations. If the challenge fails, the materials are rare; if the challenge succeeds, it also consumes a lot. Such a design is a metaphor for the impermanence of modern people’s fate: we always struggle between hope and disappointment, trying to grasp the “blooming” of that moment, but always facing the fragment of fate.
The recharge system and discount code mechanism expose the business logic of the game, and also reflect the contradictory relationship between money and time in modern consumer society. Players want to get resources quickly, but have to face the reality of the paywall. Games have become a double kidnapping of time and money. While players pursue growth in the virtual world, they also silently bear the projection of real-life pressure.
“Stuffed meat tofu”, a prop that improves the efficiency of material drops, seems to be a microcosm of efficiencyism in modern society. Players are eager to shorten the growth cycle and speed up the pace of progress, but they often fall into an endless cycle of fatigue. Efficiency does not bring freedom, but tighter chains. Just like many people nowadays, they are exhausted in the fast-paced life, but still can’t see the end.
In short, the material system of Mingchao Xiakong is not only the design of game mechanisms, but also a profound reflection of the mental state of modern people. It reminds us that the so-called growth and progress may be mixed with too much anxiety and restraint. Behind those seemingly glamorous upgrades are countless days and nights of fatigue and struggle, which are the projection and magnification of the real world.
In this complex game world, players may be able to gain a sense of accomplishment temporarily, but what they should think about more is whether our lives are also experiencing similar hardships and shackles? In the process of pursuing dreams and goals, do we also need to find a more free and real path?
Games are like mirrors, reflecting life. Mingchao’s Xiakong is not just a character in the virtual world, but also a microcosm of the millions of tired souls in modern society. I hope that players can find the real “iris blooming day” in the game and in life, and shine their own light.