186: Chapter 186 Cleansing the Corrupt Officials and Reorganizing the Scriptwriting Team

Seven minutes after Lin Chen issued the three ironclad rules, the headquarters of the old Screenwriting Team was forcibly locked down.

It wasn't a physical lockdown—it was a cage at the level of rules.

The creative permissions of all screenwriters were instantly frozen. Every script draft they were currently writing was automatically saved, encrypted, and uploaded to Lin Chen's backend. One thousand two hundred and forty-seven screenwriters simultaneously found themselves trapped in their respective "creative spaces," unable to exit, unable to communicate, and even the suicide option was blocked.

"Lin Chen! What are you trying to do?!" The image of 'Fate Pen', the general head of the Screenwriting Team, forcibly popped up—he was still experiencing a cycle of the family-extermination script he had written himself, but the Administration Bureau's backdoor allowed him to retain some communication capabilities.

"Liquidation." Lin Chen pulled up three hundred years of the Screenwriting Team's operation logs. "In three hundred years, you have written over nine million mandatory tragedy scripts, causing at least eight hundred million consciousness entities to suffer involuntary emotional exploitation. According to the new regulations, every one of you will face trial."

"Trial?!" Fate Pen roared. "We were just doing our jobs! It was the platform that required us to create highlights! It was the shareholders who wanted profit! We were just following orders!"

"So you are innocent?" Lin Chen smiled.

He opened the Screenwriting Team's backend data and pulled up the most deeply hidden folder—labeled [Private Entertainment Projects].

Inside were not work scripts.

They were small worlds the screenwriters had customized for themselves using their permissions.

The images unfolded:

Screenwriter No. 001, 'Heartbreak Expert', kept a miniature world where three hundred tragic characters he had "saved" from different scripts were imprisoned—these characters were supposed to die in the plot, but he had intercepted their consciousness and trapped them in an eternal cycle of masochistic romance scripts for his private viewing pleasure.

No. 088, 'Blood-Stained Mountains and Rivers', had privately tampered with the parameters of seventeen war worlds, making the fires of war never cease just to watch a "more realistic aesthetic of slaughter."

No. 742, 'Tragedy Collector', had even written a "Tragedy Museum" for himself, displaying his most proud works—those characters who had been tortured to the point of mental collapse became the "living specimens" of his collection.

"Following orders?" Lin Chen closed the screen. "Were these also required by the platform?"

Fate Pen was speechless.

"The trial begins now." Lin Chen pulled up a list of punishments. "Based on the severity of the crimes, they are divided into three tiers."

"Tier One: Those who actively wrote malicious mandatory tragedies more than a thousand times—permanent deprivation of creative permissions, consciousness cast into 'Atonement Scripts' to experience one-thousandth of the pain all victims endured in a cycle until the sentence is served."

"Tier Two: Accomplices—deprivation of permissions for three hundred years, serving in the new Screenwriting Team to do basic data organization."

"Tier Three: Forced participants—can choose to leave the platform or join the new team after training."

The list was automatically categorized.

Among the one thousand two hundred and forty-seven people, ninety-eight were in Tier One, seven hundred and thirty-three in Tier Two, and four hundred and sixteen in Tier Three.

"I don't accept this!" a Tier One screenwriter screamed. "By what right do you get to decide?! I have an authorization agreement from the shareholder backend—"

"The authorization agreement is void." Lin Chen clicked on the new regulations page. "According to Article 1-7, all authorizations based on the old exploitation system automatically become invalid upon the new law taking effect. And..."

He pulled up this screenwriter's private account.

"Over the years, the 'emotional commission' you've obtained through mandatory tragedy scripts totals approximately three trillion dimension points. According to the recovery clause, this entire sum will be confiscated to establish the 'Victim Compensation Fund'."

[Executing Confiscation]

[Account Zeroed]

[Permissions Deprived]

[Consciousness Extraction—Casting into Atonement Script]

Screams echoed through the data space.

The other screenwriters watched this scene in collective silence.

"Now," Lin Chen turned to the four hundred-plus people in Tier Three, "those who choose to leave may go. The platform will issue basic severance pay, but from now on, you are forbidden from engaging in any creative-related work."

Over two hundred people chose to leave—they had had enough of this industry.

The remaining one hundred and eighty-plus stayed.

"Very well." Lin Chen opened the recruitment interface. "Now, recruiting for the new Screenwriting Team."

The conditions popped up:

1. Must be a victim of the old system (having experienced mandatory plot persecution)

2. Must have independent creative ability (must submit work samples)

3. Must pass a psychological assessment (to ensure they won't become new victimizers)

The recruitment notice was sent across the entire platform.

Ten minutes later, applications poured in like an avalanche.

The communications of Su Qingyu, Zhang Hao, and Little Red Clothes all connected at the same time.

"President Lin," Su Qingyu's voice came through, "I received the recruitment notice. Are you sure you want us..."

"You are the most suitable candidates." Lin Chen pulled up their files. "Su Qingyu, you've experienced scripts where fate was tampered with; you understand best what kind of 'tragedies should not be written'. You will serve as the Chief Plot Consultant, responsible for reviewing all scripts to ensure there are no more mandatory torture points."

"Zhang Hao, your Fourth Wall sensing ability can predict which plots will cause an overreaction from the audience. You will be the Audience Psychology Analyst, establishing early warning mechanisms."

"Little Red Clothes—" Lin Chen looked at the image of the little girl in red. "You are best at creating a sense of horror, but you never harm the innocent. You will form the Horror Special Effects Team, specifically responsible for technical support in supernatural and horror worlds, but the principle is 'scare people without hurting them'."

The three were silent for a moment.

"I accept," Su Qingyu was the first to speak.

"I accept too!" Zhang Hao nodded.

"Heehee... I can finally scare people openly." Little Red Clothes floated in the air, spinning in circles.

"In addition," Lin Chen pulled up several other applicant files, "these people are also noteworthy."

The files unfolded:

Mo Shan—a 473-year-old veteran actor, proficient in the rule loopholes of all types of worlds. Applied position: Rules Consultant.

Arrogant Dragon (former Immortal Emperor)—after working in the assembly line workshop for three months, he submitted "On the Ten Great Cliches of Cultivation Scripts and How to Break Them". Applied position: Specialized Screenwriter for Xianxia Themes.

Lin Chens Mother (Lin Chen's mother, already reincarnated)—recovered some memories in her new body and submitted "The Moving Parts of an Ordinary Life". Applied position: Slice-of-Life Script Consultant.

"Auntie Li too..." Zhang Hao was stunned.

"She chose to reincarnate while retaining her memories," Lin Chen smiled. "She said she wanted to try using a new identity to write warm stories about ordinary people."

The team framework was quickly established.

Core members of the new Screenwriting Team:

General Head: Lin Chen (concurrent)

Chief Plot Consultant: Su Qingyu

Audience Psychology Analysis Group: Zhang Hao (Leader) + 17 psychology experts recruited from the audience end

Horror Special Effects Team: Little Red Clothes (Leader) + 83 "principled scaring experts" recruited from supernatural worlds

Rules Consultant Team: Mo Shan (Chief) + over eight hundred former villain actors

Thematic Specialization Groups: Arrogant Dragon (Xianxia), Lin Chens Mother (Slice-of-Life), and over thirty others

Grassroots Screenwriters: The remaining 180+ old screenwriters + over 900 new recruits from victim backgrounds

"Now, the first task." Lin Chen opened the platform's pending list. "Three hundred worlds have submitted 'Plot Assistance Requests'—they are used to being fed scripts by the Screenwriting Team and are now at a loss, requesting guidance."

"What we need to do is not give them scripts," Su Qingyu immediately entered her role, "but teach them how to create stories themselves."

She pulled up the first world seeking help: W-441 Magic Academy World.

The original script for this world was "a Dark Lord crisis breaks out every three years, and the protagonist group grows through sacrifice." Now that the Screenwriting Team has withdrawn, the world consciousness is bewildered: without a Dark Lord, what should the students do?

"Proposed plan," Su Qingyu drafted the document, "transition to a 'Magic Academic Research World'. Divert the energy used to fight the Dark Lord toward solving ancient magic puzzles, exploring unknown dimensions, and establishing a cross-civilization magic exchange system."

She attached a detailed world rule adjustment plan:

1. Change the "Dark Lord Resurrection Countdown" to "Ancient Magic Ruin Opening Cycle"

2. Change "Forbidden Spells that can only be learned through sacrificing companions" to "Shared Knowledge that can only be unsealed through teamwork"

3. Change the "Final Decisive Battle" to an "Academic Achievement Presentation"

"Approved." Lin Chen nodded. "Next."

The second world: S-119 Apocalyptic Wasteland.

The original script was "always struggling on the survival line, with one important character dying every ten chapters." Now the world consciousness seeks help: if people don't die, how does the plot progress?

Zhang Hao took over: "Data shows that this world's audience responds best to 'the radiance of humanity shining in desperate situations'. Suggest transition—Wasteland Reconstruction route. Make 'finding clean water' a long-term main line, 'forming survivor communities' a management simulation, and 'fighting mutant beasts' into 'ecological balance research'."

He pulled up the audience psychology model: "The audience doesn't like watching death; they like watching 'life's resilience under the threat of death'. As long as the sense of pressure is maintained but hope is given, satisfaction will be higher."

"Passed." Lin Chen continued.

One world's request after another was processed.

The working mode of the new Screenwriting Team completely overturned the old system:

No coercion, only suggestions.

No manufacturing tragedies, only excavating conflicts.

No controlling fate, only providing possibilities.

Three hours later.

The platform backend popped up the first positive feedback:

[World W-441 Transition Successful]

[Audience Satisfaction: 91% (formerly 72%)]

[Emotional Output Efficiency: +40% ]

[Creator Enthusiasm: Explosive Growth]

Then came the second, the third...

"Look," Su Qingyu watched the data stream, "when the world has autonomy and creators receive the rewards they deserve, they will burst forth with creativity far beyond our imagination."

"But there is one more problem." Little Red Clothes suddenly floated over. "Some worlds... are requesting to write horror scripts themselves."

She pulled up the application list:

[Supernatural World G-777 Request: We live by scaring people; if we don't scare them, what is our purpose for existing? Please approve us to continue creating horror, but we guarantee not to harm innocent consciousness]

[Horror Reincarnation World H-666 Request: Our world's rule is 'horror survival'; if the horror elements are completely removed, the world will collapse]

"These worlds are different." Little Red Clothes' eyes sparkled. "They are voluntary horror. Just like I like scaring people, but I only scare those who want to be scared."

Lin Chen thought for a moment.

"Approved. Establish a Voluntary Horror Theme Zone."

"Principle: All horror plots must be clearly labeled, and participants must sign an informed consent form."

"Little Red Clothes, you are responsible for reviewing the scripts of these worlds to ensure the 'voluntary principle' is not violated."

"Heehee... mission guaranteed!" Little Red Clothes spun around and floated away.

The reorganization work lasted for a full twelve hours.

When the last new Screenwriting Team finished training and settled into their respective world sectors, the overall data on the platform backend updated:

[Creator Satisfaction: 96% ]

[World Autonomous Development Index: Soared from 31% to 82% ]

[Audience Emotional Acquisition Efficiency: Increased by 28% due to content diversification]

[Platform Net Profit: Although the commission ratio dropped to 10%, due to the explosion in total output, actual revenue increased by 15% compared to the same period last year]

A win-win.

A true multi-win.

"Alright." Lin Chen closed all interfaces and looked at the team, who were exhausted but had glowing eyes. "Phase one is complete."

"But phase two begins immediately." He pulled up the hidden record he had discovered earlier—the countdown for the [Civilization Screening Restart Program].

89 days left.

"Old Mo," Lin Chen connected to the Rules Consultant Team, "I need you to complete three things within eighty days."

"First, crack all the backdoor programs embedded by the Epoch Administration Bureau."

"Second, establish an autonomous defense system for the platform that can resist the Administration Bureau's forced intervention."

"Third—" He paused, "find the Administration Bureau's true weakness."

"Weakness?" Mo Shan frowned. "Does an existence like that have a weakness?"

"Yes." Lin Chen pulled up all the agreements signed between the Administration Bureau and the platform. "They rely on the emotional doses provided by the platform, they rely on the stability of the audience civilizations, and they rely on this selection system that has run for countless epochs..."

He smiled.

"And we now control the platform."

"So their weakness..."

"Is us."

Outside the window, the sunlight of the new order bathed thousands of worlds.

While the countdown in the shadows ticked away, second by second.

But this time, the roles of hunter and prey—

Had already quietly reversed.