399 KiShin entering China

November 2000. A momentous day for Chinese gamers. The highly anticipated KS2, rebranded as the "TK PlayStation 2" for the Chinese market, was finally released. While the name and casing might have been tweaked, the excitement remained the same. Tencent, a rising company, spearheaded the distribution, offering the console through their physical stores and partnered distributors.

Lines snaked around Tencent stores and partner distributors, buzzing with anticipation. For many, like Ren Xin, an early bird in the queue, the wait had been excruciating. "Finally, I can play Metal Gear Solid 2 without those annoying interruptions!" he exclaimed, echoing the sentiment of many around him who bought pirated video games. Resident Evil 3, the latest Zelda, the possibilities seemed endless.

But the excitement wasn't confined to younger generations. Parents in their 20s and 30s, their own childhoods filled with pixelated adventures, mingled in the crowds. Nostalgia fueled their decisions. Super Mario, a video game classic, and Mario Kart, promising family fun, were popular choices, not just for their children but for themselves as well.

Stepping into the bustling store, Ren Xin's heart thumped with anticipation. Finally, the wait was over. The TK PlayStation 2, the gateway to countless adventures, awaited his purchase.

Ignoring the rows of peripherals and accessories, Ren Xin's eyes scanned directly for the game shelves. A smile tugged at his lips as he spotted old favorites like "Final Fantasy VII," a KS1 classic now playable on the new console. Memories of late-night battles and emotional journeys flickered in his mind.

But nostalgia wasn't all that called to him. The gleaming cases of "Need for Speed" and "Grand Turismo 2" promised adrenaline-fueled races and the roar of virtual engines. He could almost feel the grip of the controller in his hands.

Finally, he reached for the holy grail: "Metal Gear Solid II: Sons of Liberty." Memories of a frustrating experience with a pirated version on a weak KS2 replica console still stung. Glitches, low frame rates, and constant crashes had marred his initial immersion into the game's world.

This time, things would be different. Ren Xin, a software engineer by day, had diligently saved his earnings, knowing this moment would come. The sleek TK PlayStation 2 wasn't just a purchase, it was an investment in pure, unadulterated gaming pleasure.

The anticipation crackled in the air as Ren Xin entered the house, a mischievous grin plastered across his face. His siblings, glued to the TV, perked up at his arrival, their eyes widening in surprise as he brandished a sleek black box – the KS2. Cheers erupted as he declared, "It's finally here!"

The living room transformed into a bustling hub of activity. Ren Xin, his family gathered around him, carefully connected the KS2 to their television. A collective sigh of awe escaped their lips as the device hummed to life, bathing the room in a soft blue glow. The familiar logos of Tencent, KiShin, and KS2 flashed across the screen, building the excitement.

Then came the moment they'd all been waiting for. With a flick of the wrist, Ren Xin inserted the "Resident Evil 3" game cartridge. The iconic logos gave way to the chilling intro sequence, sending shivers down their spines. The haunting melody and gruesome visuals painted a vivid picture of the impending zombie apocalypse.

As the game's menu materialized, a lively discussion ensued. Ren Xin's younger brother, eyes sparkling with anticipation, bombarded him with questions about the new console's capabilities. His sister, cautious, expressed concern about the game's intensity. Even Ren Xin parents were affected by the lively enthusiasm they had for video games...

For console gamers, one of the most cherished aspects of the experience was the ability to connect with family. Unlike the emerging future of PC gaming, where solo play and online interactions dominated, console gaming offered a unique space for shared laughter, triumphs, and even friendly competition within the family circle.

Huddled around a TV, passing controllers and cheering each other on, there's a unique bond forged through the shared journey of a video game world. The laughter, the groans, the triumphant high-fives – these are the memories that go beyond just the game itself.

One day, as the landscape of gaming evolved, console enthusiasts might find themselves reminiscing about these simpler times. They'd recall the shared laughter echoing in the living room, the thrill of a close-fought victory celebrated together.

Especially with the PC gaming, fueled by the gradual rise of the internet, was making its presence known in China.

KiShin, strategically capitalized on this trend. They were granted permission to operate internet and gaming cafes, seizing the opportunity to establish a presence in this burgeoning market. Within a few months, three KiShin cafes opened their doors in Beijing, attracting customers drawn to the brand's global recognition despite its previous absence in the country.

However, KiShin wasn't the only player in this evolving landscape. Many internet cafes already existed in Beijing, offering diverse experiences and catering to a growing demand.

One particular PC game, "Counter Strike," began to captivate Chinese gamers. Its competitive, team-based nature resonated with the audience, fueling its popularity. However, its impact wasn't without concerns. Some students, caught in the fervor, skipped school to play, even engaging in betting against each other. This raised questions about the potential negative consequences of excessive online gaming.