Ye Feng sat before the computer, his gaze fixed on the questionnaire results displayed on the screen, assessing the difficulty level of the game.

The findings were consistent: exceedingly simple.

He found himself thrust into a time-traveling conundrum, suddenly seated in front of the computer screen, a sense of bewilderment washing over him.

In his previous existence, he had been a seasoned game designer, amassing a fortune exceeding 100 million. Yet, amidst the serene embrace of the sea's waves and beauty, tragedy struck one stormy night, as he succumbed to the relentless embrace of the ocean's depths.

It took him a solid half-hour to come to terms with the reality of his temporal displacement.

Reflecting on the original owner's memories, he realized that if Blue Star represented the epitome of the ninth art explosion, this realm was naught but a barren wasteland for gaming!

None of the cherished games from his past life existed here!

Thoughts of Hollow Knight, Sekiro, Dark Souls, Dead Space flooded his mind, each memory sending shivers down his spine. Could it truly be so effortless on this side?

"Very simple?" Ye Feng muttered, eyeing the recently collected questionnaire feedback.

"Simple enough for you to write, isn't it?" a voice chimed in beside him.

[Ding! Game Crafting System Activated: Pursuing Ultra-Difficulty!]

[Questionnaires Now Set to Ultra-Difficulty to Enhance Host's Game Development Skills!]

[Acquired Ultra-Difficulty Level 0/1000]

[Upgrade Reward: Holographic Projection Technology]

Ye Feng exhaled deeply. As a traveler, he could navigate worlds even without a system, but with it, would it not be foolish to abstain from exploiting its benefits?

"Simple it may be, but is mere passing sufficient?" he mused aloud.

The voice belonged to Song Shan, a fellow student in game design akin to the original owner.

Not long ago, a professional instructor had assigned a task:

[Develop a game for upload and grade the students based on downloads and netizen ratings.]

Scores below sixty were considered inadequate.

Nearly everyone adopted the same mindset: just scrape by.

"Watch this. I'll give them something they won't dare to dismiss. It's anything but simple!" Ye Feng declared, swiftly opening the game production platform. In mere moments, a concept for a gripping game emerged in his mind.

"Ascending Abyss."

This game had driven countless players mad in his former life, earning itself the moniker of "torment simulator" among gamers.

With practiced ease, he began sculpting the game's framework on the computer. This world boasted a convenient game creation platform, offering a plethora of free and paid resources ranging from graphics to physics engines, music, and basic logic.

However, despite this abundance, the game's development remained stymied by inherent limitations.

Undeterred, Ye Feng set to work, his mind brimming with creative fervor. With each stroke of design, he inscribed his vision onto the digital canvas, weaving a tapestry of challenge and intrigue.

"What's the plan this time?" Song Shan inquired, peering over Ye Feng's shoulder.

"It's rather straightforward," Ye Feng replied coolly, deftly integrating free assets in the editor to fashion a whimsical tableau: a tank, a bald figure, and a hammer.

These elements, though rudimentary in appearance, coalesced to form a whimsical scene: a diminutive figure, clad only in a barrel, brandishing a hammer.

"What manner of creature is this?" Song Shan queried, bemusement etched on his features.

"This," Ye Feng remarked with a sly grin, "is the protagonist."

This barrel-dwelling miscreant had tormented countless game streamers on Blue Star, his appearance alone evoking dread and trepidation.

With the character model complete, Ye Feng turned his attention to crafting the game's environment. While the visuals appeared crude, each level was meticulously designed to ensnare the unwary.

A single misstep would spell doom, relegating players back to square one.

In a single afternoon, he forged the game from concept to completion, his voice hoarse from incessant narration as he imbued the game with a relentless barrage of psychological torment.

Observing Ye Feng's feverish endeavor, Song Shan regarded him with a mixture of awe and disbelief.

The narration! Was he not afraid of backlash?

Or perhaps, he courted it deliberately?

With the game finalized, Ye Feng uploaded it to the Yogame platform, his message a gauntlet thrown before the masses:

"Dare to call my creations 'simple'?"

As he tapped out the final words, Song Shan could only watch in silent incredulity.

Surely, Ye Feng had lost his senses.

Yet, to his surprise, the game garnered immediate attention upon release.

In the midst of graduation season, aspiring game designers flooded the platform with their creations, each vying for recognition and acclaim.

Anchors and netizens alike reveled in this abundance of creative expression, assessing each game with unbridled enthusiasm.

Brother Yin, a popular gaming streamer, relished the opportunity to appraise the latest batch of graduate projects, relishing their quirks and idiosyncrasies.

And so it was, as he sampled "Ascending Abyss," that Brother Yin's initial amusement gave way to incredulity.

Setting a price? For this?

"One yuan would be too generous!" Brother Yin scoffed, his verdict scathing.

"Very simple," he concluded, his pronouncement a damning indictment of Ye Feng's efforts.