"Then what do you think our virtual idol should look like?" Fang Zhao asked. He was a newcomer when it came to virtual idols. Even though there were virtual idols before the apocalypse, that was a different story. Now virtual idols were a mature product. It was hard to choose between them.
"Don't ask me." Zu Wen sprang from his chair, as if he'd sat on a nail. "You don't wanna ask me. I'm just a technician who executes. The look of the virtual idol is decided by the producer. I'm just responsible for building the image the producer decides on. In simple terms, I just do what you tell me to do. You, the producer, decide what we make."
Zu Wen had no intention of becoming the scapegoat. That had always been the prevailing mood on Silver Wing's virtual idol projects. If any of his ideas contributed to the failure of the project, he was dead meat.
