Tag: Honkai: Star Rail

  • From the complexity of Mingchao Xiakong’s material collection, we can talk about the capital manipulation and player anxiety behind modern game design

    In this increasingly impetuous era, games seem to have become a safe haven for people to escape from reality. However, when we carefully observe the material collection of Xiakong, a new five-star resonator in the game “Mingchao”, it is not difficult to find that there is profound capital manipulation and player anxiety behind it. The complicated material requirements are like the endless task oppression in modern society, and like an invisible net that firmly traps players in it and cannot be freed.

    Xiakong’s breakthrough materials, skill materials and special weapon materials are piled up like mountains, and the huge number is staggering. 29 low-frequency tide eclipse sail cores, 40 mid-frequency, 52 high-frequency, and 61 full-frequency are like the ladder of capital climbing layer by layer, exhausting the player’s time and energy. The existence of burning phosphorus bones and golden wool has increased the difficulty for players. These two things are like the heavy taxes in the old society, as if only by paying a heavy price can you get even a little progress.

    We observe the source of “Burning Phosphorus Bone” – it can only be obtained by defeating the Sighing Ancient Dragon. This is tantamount to the scene of the working class bowing to power in order to survive. No wonder players are exhausted like coolies, repeating the same actions in the game world, trying to obtain those pieces of cold materials. Looking back a few years later, isn’t this another form of slavery?

    What’s more, as one of the breakthrough materials, the Golden Fleece can be purchased in the game, but it is subject to the limit of only buying 15 pieces per week. This is like the monopoly of resources by the powerful, giving you only a little “freedom”, but in fact it is full of shackles. Such a design not only tests the patience of players, but also stimulates their anxiety, creating a panic mentality of “if you are not diligent, you will be eliminated.”

    As for the materials for Xiakong’s special weapons, it is even more sigh-worthy. From simple shackles to special shackles, the name of shackles reveals a hint of irony – it is a symbol of growth, but it implies bondage. The shackles of capital, like these shackles, are interlocked and lock players firmly in the cage of consumption.

    The crystallized phlogiston series in the game progresses from impurities to high purity, layer by layer, just like the stratification of social classes. Players cannot enter the next stage without making great efforts. Little do they know that this is the business logic deliberately created by the designer, kneading the players’ expectations and anxieties into invisible ropes.

    However, “The Day of Iris Blooming”, a material that symbolizes hope, can only be obtained by defeating the weekly challenge “Wheel of Fate”. The game designer uses the word “fate” as a hint to the player’s fate: your growth depends entirely on the rotation of a round of fate. Isn’t this the epitome of “scarce opportunities” in modern society?

    Recharge discounts and discount codes follow closely, and the calculations of capital sound the loudest beat in this virtual world. Players pay real money for their own pleasure, but game manufacturers have long seen through the weaknesses of human nature and imprinted the concept of “paying is progress” in the hearts of every player. In this way, games have long deviated from the essence of entertainment and become a tool for capital plunder.

    Let’s talk about the “stuffed meat tofu”, a small prop that improves the efficiency of material drop. Its existence itself reflects the contradiction between the rhythm of the game and commercial interests. If the player does not have this prop, the efficiency will be low; if it has it, it will be temporarily accelerated, but it will be constantly pulled by the system with new demands. The “quick success” and “efficiency” of real society seem to be reflected in this virtual space.

    The material system of Mingchao Xiakong is nothing more than a mirror, reflecting the cold nature of capital supremacy in contemporary game design. Players are like prey being lassoed, struggling in layers of levels and material accumulation, but they have to admit that this is the price of “growth”. Looking at it, I can’t help but sigh: the freedom of the virtual world is just another cage designed by capital.

    Ultimately, if gamers cannot consciously see through the web of games and capital, they will only lose themselves in virtual labor. The materials used to cultivate Mingchao Xiazora are not only the hard labor factory in the game world, but also the epitome of class oppression in modern society. Only by awakening can we truly break free from these invisible shackles and gain our own freedom.