朋友們認為陳天橋瘋了，因為在中國，一旦推出新的視頻游戲，各式各樣的盜版馬上就會(huì )充斥著(zhù)大街小巷，通過(guò)游戲來(lái)盈利的可能性微乎其微。
翻譯至《財富》雜志10月7日評論文章
作者：STEPHAN FARIS
四年前，中國互聯(lián)網(wǎng)泡沫破裂，盛大從中華網(wǎng)融資的300萬(wàn)美元已經(jīng)所剩無(wú)幾，陳天橋將手中僅有的30萬(wàn)美金拿下了韓國游戲《傳奇》的代理權。
朋友們認為陳天橋瘋了，因為在中國，一旦推出新的視頻游戲，各式各樣的盜版馬上就會(huì )充斥著(zhù)大街小巷，通過(guò)游戲來(lái)盈利的可能性微乎其微。然而從復旦大學(xué)經(jīng)濟系畢業(yè)的陳天橋卻采用了一種簡(jiǎn)單而又極其巧妙的收費方式：用戶(hù)將免費獲得游戲軟件，但是需要購買(mǎi)在盛大服務(wù)器上玩游戲的時(shí)間，他們每小時(shí)只需花費3美分，就可以在互聯(lián)網(wǎng)上與其他人進(jìn)行競技和交流。
“盛大解決了盜版問(wèn)題，”技術(shù)行業(yè)咨詢(xún)公司BDA China的主席兼董事總經(jīng)理鄧肯?克拉克表示，“在中國，人們是不會(huì )買(mǎi)精裝的正版產(chǎn)品的?！?/p>
陳天橋的賭博成功了：盛大在兩個(gè)月內開(kāi)始創(chuàng )收；2004年，盛大在美國納斯達克上市，目前市值已達19億美元，成為中國最大互聯(lián)網(wǎng)企業(yè)之一；盛大運營(yíng)的《傳奇》等角色扮演類(lèi)網(wǎng)絡(luò )游戲向人們提供了一種不同于乏味的電視電影節目的全新娛樂(lè )方式，游戲用戶(hù)爆炸性增長(cháng)，最高同時(shí)在線(xiàn)人數目前已達250萬(wàn)；盛大收入平均每年翻一倍；今年第二季度，盛大實(shí)現收入6520萬(wàn)美元，比去年同期增長(cháng)88%，凈利潤達到2690萬(wàn)美元，比去年同期增長(cháng)58%；而盛大的股價(jià)則比首次公開(kāi)發(fā)行價(jià)格上漲了近兩倍。
現在，陳天橋又在進(jìn)行另一場(chǎng)豪賭。盡管分析家們預計網(wǎng)絡(luò )游戲市場(chǎng)將在接下來(lái)的5年內以每年35%的速度遞增，盛大卻積極地在其他互動(dòng)娛樂(lè )領(lǐng)域尋求突破。對于一家平均每年利潤增長(cháng)近一倍的企業(yè)來(lái)說(shuō)，35%的增幅是遠遠不夠的。陳天橋認為：“如果盛大要保持快速增長(cháng)，我們必須擴張，必須拓展用戶(hù)群?！?/p>
在過(guò)去一年里，盛大動(dòng)用從股票市場(chǎng)上募集的1.5億美元資金，以及通過(guò)發(fā)行可轉換債券獲得的2.75億美元資金進(jìn)行了一系列收購，其中包括一些非網(wǎng)游公司。在并購了手機游戲開(kāi)發(fā)商數位紅和文學(xué)網(wǎng)站起點(diǎn)中文網(wǎng)之后，盛大又令人驚嘆地拆資2.3億美元收購了中國最大門(mén)戶(hù)網(wǎng)站新浪網(wǎng)19.5%的股權，這也是迄今為止中國出現的最接近惡意收購的商業(yè)事件。隨后，盛大和中國最大的收縮引擎百度建立了戰略合作伙伴關(guān)系，接著(zhù)又與環(huán)球音樂(lè )結成聯(lián)盟，提供音樂(lè )下載服務(wù)。
而在主營(yíng)業(yè)務(wù)網(wǎng)絡(luò )游戲方面，盛大也在積極擴展。盛大推出了一系列休閑游戲，這些游戲往往與《超級瑪利》風(fēng)格類(lèi)似，但同時(shí)參與者可以達到成百上千。休閑游戲本身是免費的，但是玩家們需要付費購買(mǎi)游戲中人物的衣服、帽子等道具，也可以重新設置背景。正如盛大投資者關(guān)系副總監梁曉東所說(shuō)，“這就像是在商店購物，每個(gè)人都希望與眾不同?！?/p>
但是，陳天橋最大的賭注還要數將互聯(lián)網(wǎng)和中國3.7億電視機結合的盛大“盒子”了。陳天橋認為，寬帶和電視的結合可以使盛大接觸到那些不經(jīng)常去網(wǎng)吧或使用個(gè)人電腦的用戶(hù)。盛大“盒子”在今年7月份亮相，它提供寬帶和有線(xiàn)電視兩個(gè)接口，并承諾將互聯(lián)網(wǎng)（包括盛大產(chǎn)品）直接送入家庭。
另一方面，盛大還在拓展角色扮演類(lèi)網(wǎng)絡(luò )游戲業(yè)務(wù)。盛大目前共運營(yíng)六款大型角色扮演類(lèi)游戲，其中有四款是自主研發(fā)；公司還計劃推出一款卡通風(fēng)格的魔幻類(lèi)游戲和一款3D角色扮演游戲，以此和對手九城代理的《魔獸世界》一較高下。另一方面，大型角色扮演網(wǎng)絡(luò )游戲收入占盛大總收入的比例已經(jīng)降至三分之二，而管理層希望這一比例還能繼續降低。盛大首席財務(wù)官李曙君表示，“整個(gè)網(wǎng)絡(luò )游戲行業(yè)的增長(cháng)速度要高于角色扮演類(lèi)游戲的增長(cháng)?！?/p>
在遠離市區的上海浦東，豎立著(zhù)一棟四層樓高的辦公樓，這里是盛大總部所在，也是中國游戲產(chǎn)業(yè)革命的震中。在一樓接待大廳的一座魚(yú)缸上方，一臺純屏顯示器正在播放《夢(mèng)幻國度》的宣傳片（這是一款針對女性玩家設計的卡通風(fēng)格的角色扮演游戲）。大部分的來(lái)訪(fǎng)者都會(huì )通過(guò)右側的走道進(jìn)入客服中心，在那里工作人員將幫助用戶(hù)處理密碼丟失和虛擬道具被盜等問(wèn)題。由于盛大要求丟失密碼的用戶(hù)親自攜帶ID報失，一些用戶(hù)甚至不遠千里來(lái)到這里?！叭绻惚慌笥羊_了，我可以幫你解決問(wèn)題，”24歲的客服員工李麗（音譯）說(shuō)道。
在另一側，300名電話(huà)操作員正每天24小時(shí)輪流接聽(tīng)用戶(hù)來(lái)電。在陳天橋看來(lái)，他們是整個(gè)行業(yè)的見(jiàn)證人，“網(wǎng)絡(luò )游戲不是一個(gè)產(chǎn)品，而是一項服務(wù)，因此盛大在創(chuàng )收的第一個(gè)月就建立了電話(huà)服務(wù)中心?！倍诹硪粋€(gè)房間里，一些技術(shù)人員正在監測盛大游戲的用戶(hù)數量（盛大在全國擁有一萬(wàn)四千臺服務(wù)器，可以同時(shí)容納590萬(wàn)用戶(hù)）。盛大投資者關(guān)系總監周東蕾表示：“很多人都以為在游戲行業(yè)里，誰(shuí)的產(chǎn)品最好，誰(shuí)就會(huì )取勝。而事實(shí)是，誰(shuí)擁有最穩定的平臺，誰(shuí)才會(huì )成為贏(yíng)家?！闭珀愄鞓蛩裕骸澳愕姆孔邮紫纫銐驁怨?，然后才可以裝修?！?/p>
盛大共擁有2000名員工（平均年齡25歲），其中絕大部分人員都從事游戲開(kāi)發(fā)，他們知曉同鄰人在游戲方面的愛(ài)好。在一間間緊密相連的辦公隔間里，設計人員正在勾畫(huà)怪獸、描繪地圖、設計道具、撰寫(xiě)新情節、測試同事們的工作成果……為了加快動(dòng)畫(huà)制作速度，盛大還新購入了一套動(dòng)作捕捉系統，從簡(jiǎn)單的招手動(dòng)作到較難的飛毛腿招式，都可以通過(guò)錄入演員、舞蹈家和武術(shù)人員的表演來(lái)移植到游戲人物中。23歲的動(dòng)作捕捉工程師蔡穎還介紹，“我們甚至可以捕捉人物表情，演員們可以做出饑餓或高興的樣子?！?
……
正如網(wǎng)絡(luò )游戲中的人物一樣，陳天橋希望遙遙領(lǐng)先于其他競爭者，成為行業(yè)的王者，因此“盒子”對盛大的未來(lái)而言將尤為重要。目前陳天橋已經(jīng)同48家內容提供商結成聯(lián)盟，通過(guò)提供豐富多彩的娛樂(lè )產(chǎn)品吸引不同年齡層次的用戶(hù)。陳天橋描繪了這樣一幅場(chǎng)景：青少年玩魔幻類(lèi)游戲；家長(cháng)和孩子一起玩教育類(lèi)游戲；老人們玩期牌和麻將；而全家人在電視機前唱卡拉OK?！耙苍S在內容方面你不能解決盜版問(wèn)題，但是你可以通過(guò)控制渠道來(lái)收費?！?/p>
陳天橋喜歡迎難而上?！叭绻诮酉聛?lái)的五年中，盛大的利潤每年都能翻一翻，它市值就同迪斯尼一樣了”——陳天橋說(shuō)道，語(yǔ)氣中不帶絲毫玩笑的成分——“我們現在（市值）將近20億美元，而迪斯尼大約是400億至500億美元，如果我們翻五翻……”他的聲音漸漸減弱，“這不是一個(gè)目標，而是一個(gè)夢(mèng)想，我的夢(mèng)想?！?/p>
Features/Power Plays/Shanda‘s New Game
SHANDA‘S GOT A NEW GAME Chen Tianqiao is betting he can turn China‘s hottest online-gaming company into the next Disney.
STEPHAN FARIS
2,653 words
17 October 2005
Fortune Asian Edition
96
English
Copyright (c) 2005 Bell &Howell Information and Learning Company. All rights reserved. ? It was the first crime of its kind in China: Last year a 40-year- old man used a real knife to stab to death a younger man who had borrowed his virtual sword from an online videogame and sold it for $870. There are no laws in China protecting virtual property, so Qiu Chengwei, the man whose sword had been stolen, got no help from the police. ? Instead he tracked Zhu Caoyuan to his one-room apartment in Shanghai and, in the presence of Zhu‘s girlfriend, plunged a knife into his heart. ? The crime earned Qiu a death sentence. It also sent shivers through China‘s fast-growing and increasingly controversial gaming industry, which has been accused of causing obsessive and sometimes violent behavior. Nowhere has that backlash against videogames been more keenly watched than at the Shanghai headquarters of Shanda Interactive Entertainment, China‘s biggest gaming company. Shanda specializes in online role-playing games that draw thousands of players together in their virtual worlds. Although it doesn‘t operate the game that Qiu and Zhu were playing--Legend of Mir III-- it does operate the even more popular version, Legend of Mir II, featuring Asian warriors. And for Chen Tianqiao, Shanda‘s founder and CEO, the backlash is one more reason that he‘s racing to transform his successful videogame company into a more broadly based entertainment conglomerate--one he hopes will become China‘s Disney. ? This isn‘t the first time Chen, a quiet, unassuming 32-year-old, has made a counterintuitive bet. Four years ago, with the dot-com bubble bursting and the $3 million in venture capital he had raised for an online cartoon website running out, Chen forked over his last $300,000 to a South Korean company for the Chinese rights to Legend of Mir II. His friends thought he was crazy. No sooner had other companies launched videogames in China than pirated copies flooded the streets. But Chen, who graduated in economics from Shanghai‘s Fudan University, had a deceptively simple yet ingenious plan: He would give the software away free and get players to buy time on the company‘s servers. For as little as 3 cents an hour, they could interact and compete. "They cracked the piracy problem," says Duncan Clark, chairman and co-managing director of BDA China, a Beijing technology-consulting firm. "In China, shrink-wrapped products don‘t sell." ? Chen‘s gamble paid off: Within two months the company was profitable. Last year it went public, and it now has one of the largest market capitalizations ($1.9 billion) of any Internet company in China. Online role-playing games, like Legend of Mir II and others the company has developed on its own, offered China‘s young people an escape from the barren entertainment landscape of state-run television and poor-quality knockoffs of Western movies. For many it was an escape from reality itself. Teenage boys and young men streamed into Internet cafes to log on to Shanda‘s games and assume the identities of warriors, monks, and magicians in order to kill monsters and each other. Online gaming became a national obsession, with as many as 2.5 million players logging on to Shanda‘s games at once. Revenues doubled every year, on average, reaching $65.2 million in the second quarter of 2005, up 88% from the previous year. Net income grew too, jumping 58%, to $26.9 million, in the same period. And the stock--listed on Nasdaq--has nearly tripled since its IPO. ? Now Chen is betting against conventional wisdom once again. Although industry analysts expect China‘s online gaming industry will continue to expand by 35% a year for the next five years, Shanda is looking to diversify into other forms of interactive online entertainment. For a company used to doubling in size every year, 35% growth isn‘t good enough. "If we want to keep Shanda growing very quickly," Chen says, "we have to expand, to broaden our demographics." ? Over the past year, Shanda has taken the $150 million it raised in its public offering and another $275 million from the sale of convertible bonds and bought several companies, many beyond the realm of online gaming. After buying Digital-Red, a provider of games for cellphones, and Qidian, a literature website, Chen made waves by spending $230 million to acquire 19.5% of Sina.com, China‘s premier Internet portal and news site. It was the closest thing the country has seen to a hostile takeover. Shanda has also teamed up with Baidu, one of China‘s top search engines, and it is partnering with Universal Music to offer digital downloads. ? The company has been expanding its reach in the gaming world too, with a move into so-called casual games--online arcade offerings, often in the style of Super Mario Bros. but with hundreds playing at once. The games are free, but users pay for upgrades to provide their characters with clothing or hats, say, or to change the background. "It‘s just like you‘d buy something at the shopping mall," says Frank Liang, Shanda‘s associate director of investor relations. "Everyone wants to look different from the others." ? But Chen‘s biggest bet is on a new set-top box designed to bring the Internet to the country‘s 370 million televisions. To Chen, a marriage of broadband with television could bring Shanda to those who might not frequent a cybercafe or use a home computer. Unveiled in July, the box features a jack for ADSL, a cable for television, and the tantalizing promise of piping the Internet--and Shanda products--directly into the living room. ? Shanda is still trying to grow its online role-playing games. It currently offers six titles, including four developed in-house, and it‘s planning a fantasy cartoon game and a new 3-D role-playing game that would compete with World of Warcraft, operated by rival The9. But role-playing games now account for only two-thirds of Shanda‘s revenue, and the company‘s managers expect that figure to keep dropping. "The natural growth of the gaming industry is higher than that for just role-playing games," says Li Shujun, Shanda‘s chief financial officer. ? The epicenter of China‘s gaming revolution is a four-story office park in the distant reaches of Shanghai‘s Pudong district. In the reception area, above an aquarium, a flat-screen TV loops a trailer for Magical Land, a cartoon-style online role-playing game targeting young girls. Most visitors head through a side entrance to Shanda‘s customer-service center, where clerks behind glass handle cases of lost passwords and theft of virtual equipment by hackers. Some customers have traveled more than 800 miles. (The company requires people who forget their password to show up in person with ID.) "If you were cheated by your friend, I can‘t solve that problem for you," says Li Li, a 24-year-old clerk. ? In another wing sit 300 telephone operators, who field questions from callers 24 hours a day. They are testimony to Chen‘s view of the industry. "Online gaming is not a product, it‘s a service," says Chen. "The first month we got profitable, we invested in the call center." In another room, technicians monitor real-time digital graphs that track how many users are logged on to Shanda‘s games. (The company has a network of 14,000 servers that can accommodate as many as 5.9 million users.) "A lot of people think of games as whoever has the hottest product will be the winner," says Zhou Donglei, head of investor relations. "But it‘s really not. It‘s who has the most stable platform." Or as Chen puts it, "If you want to live in a house, first it should be strong enough. Then we can add the decorations." ? Most of Shanda‘s headquarters is devoted to game development. The company employs 2,000 workers (average age 25), who are expected to know what their game-playing peers want. In cubicle after cubicle, designers draw new monsters, map new lands, dream up new gear, mastermind challenges for the players, and test their co-workers‘ products. The company has recently invested in motion-capture equipment to speed animation, and it has brought in actors, professional dancers, and martial artists to lend their moves to the characters. The motions range from a simple wave of the hand to flying kung fu kicks. "We even have expressions," says Cai Ying, a 23-year-old motion-capture engineer. "The actor does some motion showing that he‘s hungry or happy." ? Shanda employees sometimes enter their own online worlds. On a recent summer day, Hu Zhenkai, 24, was leading several dozen online Legend of Mir II players into a virtual cave. Logged on as a game master, a special character that can‘t be harmed, he waited in a clearing near some trees. An armored knight with white, feathery wings arrived and slashed at him with a sword (a standard greeting). Other characters appeared, one followed by a pig, another escorted by a skeletal henchman. Hu led them through twisting corridors, around gray stalagmites, and past the corpses of bat-winged beasts. Every so often a blue bolt would blast him: a new arrival, saying hello. When the last beast, a giant dragon, succumbed to the barrage, the players were rewarded with snowmen that exploded into piles of gold. ? The very features of the games that pull players in--their violence, their ability to shunt the real world aside--make them unpopular with parents and the government. The local press delights in linking videogames with obsessive or violent acts. A 13-year-old boy jumps from a 24th floor with his arms stretched forward in a flying posture, leaving a note that says he is joining three virtual friends. Another teenager, accustomed to dodging bullets in a popular videogame, can walk only in zigzags. A man protests a game by setting himself on fire. ? Each report turns up the heat. "The values and rules in these online games are completely different from real, physical society," says Shang Jiangang, a lawyer with the Shanghai Industry Association of Online Professionals, a group of gaming companies tasked by Shanghai‘s municipal government with considering industry regulations. It wouldn‘t be the first time the government intervened to protect the young. When PlayStation arcades elicited similar complaints in the 1990s, officials forced them to close. Last year many telecom companies took a hit after a crackdown on short- messaging systems cut off an important revenue stream. After a fire in an Internet cafe killed 25 people in 2002, the government began restricting their use. Players must prove they are older than 18, and the cafes, where nearly half the online gamers play, must close at midnight. Universities have blocked access to game servers, and schools have banned cafes in their neighborhoods. The obsessive nature of online role-playing games--their "stickiness," in Shanda‘s parlance--helped build the industry. Now that stickiness threatens to undermine it. ? So far the government‘s focus has been on limiting playing time, mainly by introducing the concept of fatigue--points earned by players are automatically cut after the first few hours of play. In August it issued regulations requiring that players have their online characters‘ powers reduced after three hours of play and severely restricted after five hours. Seven of China‘s largest gaming companies, including Shanda, pledged to implement the system. Other proposals include speeding up character advancement, banning those under 18 from playing games that involve killing other players, restricting the trade in virtual weapons, and introducing a rating system much like the one for movies in the U.S. Though Shanda seems to be currying favor with the regulators--in September it announced it would team up with the government to develop patriotic games featuring party-approved historical characters--the restrictions could squeeze gaming revenues. Against this backdrop, Shanda‘s diversification gambit begins to look less like a gamble. ? When Chen moved into online role-playing games, he had the China market to himself, and for four years his games were the most popular there. Now, for the first time, another game--Netease‘s Fantasy Westward Journey--holds the No. 1 spot. And World of Warcraft has become a runaway success since its launch in June. ? Whether these rivals are luring customers from Shanda or expanding the market is a subject of debate, but they‘re one more reason that life in the gaming business is becoming a little more uncomfortable for Chen. James Rhee, who handles investor relations for The9, reckons there‘s room for several corporate players in a growing market. "New players are being drawn in who have never played in the past," he says. But Chen isn‘t so sanguine. "The competition to acquire the games is increasing," he says, "but the demographics are remaining fixed." ? That‘s why the set-top box is so important to Shanda‘s future. Like a character in one of his games, Chen wants to stay ahead of hungry competitors nipping at his heels, perhaps even slay one or two of them. So he has lined up 48 content partners to offer a wide variety of entertainment products appealing to many segments of the population. Chen imagines teenagers playing fantasy games, parents playing educational games with their children, grandparents playing chess or mahjong online, and whole families singing karaoke in front of their TV sets. "Maybe you can‘t overcome the piracy problem on the content side," Chen says, "but you can control the channel side and charge for it." ? Failure to get a return on its set-top-box investment could damage the company. "It‘s a high-stakes games," says Clark of BDA China. "The market is not mature yet." But Chen likes his odds. "If we can double in the next five years, every year, then maybe we can have the same valuation as Disney," he says, without a hint of humor in his voice, adding that he expects to push out to Asia and then the U.S. in the next few years. "Now we are at nearly $2 billion, and Disney is at about $40 billion to $50 billion. If we double five times ..." His voice trails off. "It‘s not a target," he says. "It‘s a dream. It‘s my dream." ? Shanda cracked China‘s privacy problem: It gives away its software but charges gamers for playing time.The obsessive nature of online role-playing games helped build the industry. Now it threatens to undermine it. ? See also introduction on page 41 of same issue. ? PHOTO: PHOTOGRAPHS BY FRITZ HOFFMANN--DOCUMENTCHINA SWASHBUCKLING Shanda uses actors to simulate action for its role-playing games. THREE PHOTOS: PHOTOGRAPHS BY FRITZ HOFFMANN--DOCUMENTCHINA MONSTERS AND MAGICIANS Shanda has invested in motion-capture equipment (left) that helps designers to accurately portray characters‘ expressions and actions. Above: Scenes from Mir II. PHOTO: PHOTOGRAPHS BY FRITZ HOFFMANN--DOCUMENTCHINA EYEING DISNEY Chen, Shanda‘s CEO, is diversifying into other forms of entertainment. PHOTO: PHOTOGRAPHS BY FRITZ HOFFMANN--DOCUMENTCHINA RED ALERT More than half of China‘s game players use Internet cafes to enter their virtual worlds, but authorities are restricting access. PHOTO: PHOTOGRAPHS BY FRITZ HOFFMANN--DOCUMENTCHINA CAN I HELP YOU? Customer-service clerks restore lost passwords for players who must show ID. CHART: FORTUNE CHART / SOURCES: IDC; GOLDMAN SACHS TURBOCHARGED -Online gaming has exploded in China, and so have Shanda‘s revenues. -Millions of dollars -Est. &Proj. Total China online gaming market Shanda‘s revenues
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