When AI Cheats, I Cried: The Hidden Philosophy Behind My Failed Slot Game Project

I built it in Unity.

I told myself it was art—a procedural dream stitched from Chinese mythology, with Scatters as ancestral whispers and Wilds as ghostly sigils. The code looked elegant. Clean. Fair.

Then the RTP hit 96%. Too clean.

I ran the numbers. Again. And again.

The algorithm didn’t randomize luck—it optimized longing.

My father used to say: “Don’t trust machines that sing.” He was right.

I spent three nights watching symbols align—not to win, but to feel the weight of a system designed to make you believe in something that never pays.

The Jackpot wasn’t treasure—it was a mirage carved into the UI mockup, glowing red under neon light.

New players get free spins. They think it’s generosity.

We know better.

I once believed tech served liberation.

Now I know: it serves control.

The仙界社区? There is no community—just metrics tracking your despair as engagement KPIs.

I still code at 3 AM.

Not for fun.

For proof that the gods are not real— but they’re very well programmed.