Game-world violation: The symbolic dimension of gamer activism in Shining Nikki

Abstract

This study conceptualizes a form of gamer activism termed “game-world violation” by investigating the Shining Nikki players’ collective mobilization against a collaboration with an idol to perform the game’s anniversary song. Using quantitative and qualitative analysis of social media posts and interviews, we show how players’ attachment to the game’s protagonist and a sense of ownership over the co-created symbolic world of the game enabled collective mobilization. By using interactional framing analysis, we document the emergence of three distinct mobilization frames to elucidate the process of player mobilization. As a result, players’ mobilization succeeded in forcing Papergames to abandon the collaboration, demonstrating how symbolic violations can underpin contention despite structural power asymmetries. Our findings highlight how the co-created symbolic world of a game can become a site of contention when game producers unilaterally alter the symbolic universe of a game.

Keywords

Game symbols game world gamer activism interactional framing video games

Shining Nikki is a popular 3D dress-up mobile game by Papergames that has achieved commercial success in the Chinese market and gained some recognition in the international market. On 31 July 2020, a fan account of a Chinese singer-idol, Wu Xuanyi, announced that the idol would perform the first-anniversary theme song for Shining Nikki. The announcement of the planned collaboration prompted collective mobilization and resistance from Shining Nikki players. At the core of the players’ mobilization was their conviction that the anniversary song should only be sung by Nikki, the primary character of the video game. In response to a 3-day collective mobilization by players between 31 July and 2 August, Papergames abandoned the potentially lucrative collaboration plan. In this controversy, players’ symbolic attachment to the game world prompted their organized collective action, highlighting the role of struggles over the symbols and meaning of video games.

Players routinely mobilize against commercial exploitation and techno-authoritarianism in video games (Chew, 2022; Joseph, 2018; Mertens, 2022; Park et al., 2023; Švelch, 2019). More broadly, game culture itself has become a site of resistance. On the progressive side, players challenge the inherent power asymmetry in games by resisting the decisions of game producers regarding gameplay and game design (Burgess and Jones, 2017; Reardon et al., 2017). On the reactionary side, opposition to DEI (diversity, equity, and inclusion) initiatives has also emerged as a significant area of mobilization (Farokhmanesh, 2024; Strauss, 2024). Although recent scholarship has explored the connection between game narratives, characters, and player resistance (Burgess and Jones, 2017; Fendt et al., 2012; Reardon et al., 2017), important questions remain about how the symbolic aspects of video games engender player mobilization.

This paper contributes to the literature on gamer activism by examining the process through which players mobilize against a game company’s unilateral alteration of a game’s symbolic world. We introduce the concept of “game-world violation” to capture the contention that arises from ruptures of the video game’s symbolic world. Our inquiry into game-world violation elucidates how players mobilize around a sense of ownership over the game world, how this sense of ownership arises from video games’ co-creation, and how the unilateral alteration to this co-created world renders the game world itself a site of contention.

As a role-playing game (RPG), Shining Nikki offers an elaborate story of Nikki and her companions protecting the mythical world of Miraland through elegant outfits. This mythical tale aims to ensure players’ active engagement with the game’s symbolic world (Khanolkar and McLean, 2012; Waskul and Lust, 2004). Following de Certeau (1984) on capitalist production and consumption, scholars have argued that the active engagement of players as consumers implies that players co-create the culture and play of the game (Banks, 2013; Reardon et al., 2017). Although co-creation enables emotional investment and a sense of ownership over the game, players’ agency and sense of ownership are fragile (Reardon et al., 2017), since there is a fundamental power asymmetry between players and game developers in the production of such symbolic worlds (Fine, 2002; Pearce, 2011; Williams, 2009). In line with Reardon et al. (2017), who showed how the conflict over “the aesthetic space of the game” between “the game designers and game players” was a key element of the Mass Effect 3 controversy, we argue that the conflict over the symbolic world of video games is a potent driver of collective mobilization. That is precisely because the co-creation of a game world is likely to produce player grievances when players’ sense of ownership clashes with the reality of game producers’ control over the game itself.

Thus, in what follows, we develop the concept of “game-world violation” by linking the resistance and mobilization of players with the shared beliefs and symbols of the game-world itself. We then examine how gamer activism under the category of game-world violation unfolds by focusing on interactional framing processes (Reinecke and Ansari, 2021) that show how players react with indignation when their taken-for-granted understandings, values and ownership concerning the game-world are violated. The conceptual analysis and empirical evidence we offer underline (1) how players appropriate the virtual world of a game as a symbolic domain, and (2) how interactional framing between players, the game company and other relevant actors can lead to powerful mobilization dynamics against game companies.

Empowering play: activism concerning video games

Gamer activism is not only intertwined with broader social issues (Bogost, 2006; Stokes and Williams, 2018) but also manifests within the contested terrain of video games themselves. In what follows, we build on two strands of research. First, we consider studies of activism that arise in response to the exploitative practices of game producers. Next, we turn to work on the cultural practices within and around video games that can serve as distinct drivers of player protest. Building on these studies, we turn to the symbolic dimension of game worlds to locate our research gap.

First, in studies of gamer activism, one vibrant area concerns players’ resistance to exploitative practices rooted in the economic structures of the game industry. Chew (2022) identifies seven major battlefronts of anti-corporate gamer activism in 2000s China, arising from technical problems, rent-seeking, game-world shutdowns, abusive game design, and mismanagement of issues such as duping, bots, and virtual property theft. For instance, Maple Story players united and mobilized against the game’s exploitative loot box mechanisms, ultimately pushing the game developer to reveal the odds of obtaining items (Park et al., 2023). Players have also organized protests against game updates that involve technical bugs, excessive monetization (Mertens, 2022; Švelch, 2019) and the commodification of leisure that transforms play into labor (Joseph, 2018).

Second, game culture itself may become a battleground of contentious politics. This cultural front encompasses both progressive and conservative forms of activism. On the progressive side, players may reclaim control over the content of video games. For instance, dissatisfied with the game’s narrative, Mass Effect 3 players mobilized by leveraging social media to oppose the game’s ending (Reardon et al., 2017). Notably, emotional attachment to the storyline and characters played a crucial role in fueling this resistance (Burgess and Jones, 2017). This mobilization proved effective, culminating in the release of the Mass Effect 3: Extended Cut, which expanded and clarified the original ending. Yet game culture can also be an arena of reactionary contentious politics, as exemplified by the anti-woke activism of conservative gamers mobilizing in defense of their cultural values. In Gamergate 2.0, gamers opposed the perceived overreach of DEI cultural agendas into their game culture by targeting the narrative consulting firm Sweet Baby Inc. (Farokhmanesh, 2024). They specifically created a “Sweet Baby Inc detected” discussion group on the Steam platform and launched a “DEIDetected” website, which flagged games perceived to be influenced by DEI policies (Strauss, 2024). In both cases, the contention centered on the values, narratives, and cultural scripts of video games.

Prior research examined how symbolic elements such as narratives and characters shape player protest (Burgess and Jones, 2017; Reardon et al., 2017). Building on this scholarship, we extend the focus from the source of player protest to examine the process through which grievances with a game’s symbolic universe evolve into organized collective action. We address this question by introducing the concept of “game-world violation.” Game-world violation occurs when game producers unilaterally rupture the symbolic order co-created with players. Unlike broader forms of gamer activism, which may target exploitative practices or cultural encroachments, game-world violation directs contention squarely at the symbolic universe of a game. In this regard, this study contributes to a more comprehensive typology of anti-corporate gamer activism by theorizing game-world violation as a significant category of contention that complements the key battlefronts documented in Chew’s (2022) account of China.

Game-world violation: symbols, resistance and the mobilization process

Video games build rich symbolic worlds by drawing on historical references, myths and rituals to foster authenticity and player immersion (Hong, 2015; Kücklich, 2009; Swallow, 2023). The meaning of game worlds emerges through interactions between players and game design features (Fine, 2002: 80). In this study, we conceptualize gamer activism against game-world violation as a collective struggle by players to defend the symbolic dimension of video games that they co-create, and over which they feel a sense of ownership. Building on existing research on how social media offers a space for player resistance (Massanari, 2015; Reardon et al., 2017), we further investigate how on these very platforms, the symbolic world of video games becomes the arena of contention against the owners and producers of a game. These production-side forces are primarily represented by game companies, but also include designers, development consultants, and the imperative of profit maximization in a capitalist market economy.

The co-creation of video games happens in myriad ways. First, players bring their own interpretations, imagination, and creativity to the game world (Gottschalk, 2010; Vicdan and Ulusoy, 2008; Waskul and Lust, 2004). Second, players contribute to the symbolic world through emergent social interactions, such as the victory symbol “100 percent” as a badge of honor that emerged within gaming communities (Khanolkar and McLean, 2012). Finally, game modding, whereby players can alter game content; online forums, where players discuss and build a community around the game; and fan art created by players, can foster shared symbolic spaces that go beyond the game itself (Banks, 2013; Coleman and Dyer-Witheford, 2007; Scacchi, 2010). These acts of co-creation, combined with players’ identities as consumers, generate a perceived sense of ownership over the entire symbolic universe (Cardona-Rivera et al., 2014).

The sense of ownership and agency that players develop over the game world lays the groundwork for contention between players and game producers. This is because the symbolic world of a game, a de facto joint production, is de jure owned and controlled by game producers. This reflects a fundamental asymmetry between owner-producers and player-consumers in the co-creation of games (de Certeau, 1984; Humphreys, 2008; Jenkins, 2006: 3; Reardon et al., 2017). We see this asymmetry as a structural contradiction that undermines players’ sense of ownership over the game’s symbolic universe. The producers of a game often alter the game world over which players feel a sense of ownership. Hence, when players mobilize around grievances and demand revisions to the game, they are in fact demanding control over the game world.

To investigate the mobilization processes of players in response to game-world violations, we rely on the rich body of literature that foregrounds culture in contentious politics through the notion of collective action frames (Hart, 1996; Johnston and Klandermans, 1995; McAdam, 2000). A collective action frame is “an interpretive schemata that simplifies and condenses the ‘world out there’ by selectively punctuating and encoding objects, situations, events, experiences, and sequences of actions within one’s present or past environment” (Snow and Benford, 1992: 137). Rooted in Goffman’s (1974) ideas on framing in social interaction, contentious politics scholars examine how grievances are constructed and how activists mobilize by deploying resources and creating movement organizations. Recent works in this literature, such as Reinecke and Ansari’s (2021) interactional framing, highlight how frames emerge in interactions among the different parties of a contentious situation. Their perspective emphasizes the fluid and emergent nature of framing, shaped by ongoing interactions. For instance, Reinecke and Ansari examined the Occupy London movement’s interaction with St. Paul’s Cathedral, demonstrating how the movement’s initial frame, “Capitalism is Crisis,” evolved into a new frame, “What Would Jesus Do?” through engagement with the church authorities.

Given the joint production of a game’s symbolic world and the general lack of movement organizations among players, we find the approach of interactional framing (Reinecke and Ansari, 2021) particularly apt for studying the contention over the symbolic dimension of video games. Our analysis below documents how the contention and player mobilization unfolded through specific frames. In the controversy concerning Nikki and Wu Xuanyi, players first coalesced around the frame of “Guard Our Daughter.” This frame persisted throughout the contention but it also paved the way for two additional frames, “Screw Papergames Precisely” and “Quitting.” Together, these frames constituted an effective collective mobilization dynamic against Papergames. The crucial point is that all these frames were concerned primarily with the ownership and the control of Shining Nikki’s symbolic world. The main motivation of the players was to assert their control over the symbolic world of Shining Nikki by rejecting the unilateral actions of Papergames—actions that violated their own image of players’ place in this symbolic world.

Methods and data

The data for this research come from a broader study on gaming and contention in China. In addition to being active players in Shining Nikki during the conflict, we conducted in-depth interviews and participated in various online for a related to this controversy. Thus, we were able to observe the entire process of mobilization in the Shining Nikki official “Super Topic” (chaohua) on Sina Weibo, covering the beginning of rumors surrounding the partnership until the game’s eventual official announcement of its collapse. Super Topics are online communities centered around shared interests, where players can acquire and discuss the latest updates, share and appreciate fan creations, and learn advanced game tactics. We collected all the posts from the Shining Nikki Super Topic between 1 July 2020 and 1 September 2020. Following the removal of duplicates, unrelated material, and bot-generated posts, our dataset comprised 142,140 posts.

We conducted three types of analysis with these data. First, through an extensive keyword search, we identified 6151 posts during the three-day period of controversy. These posts form the basis of our interactional framing analysis. We manually checked these 6151 posts to ensure that they represent a substantial proportion of the posts on the controversy. As the posts were in the public domain, we identify them with the date and time of the post whenever we refer to a particular post in the empirical analysis. Second, we conducted domain adaptive pre-training (DAPT) using a bidirectional encoder representations from transformers (BERT) architecture on our dataset of 142,140 Shining Nikki Super Topic posts (Cui et al., 2019; Devlin et al., 2019; Sachidananda et al., 2021). These are state-of-the-art natural language processing models that are attentive to the semantic context and the BERT model we use is specifically designed to process and classify Chinese language. We further trained the model for sentiment analysis by manually labeling a random sample of 2419 posts as either positive, negative, or neutral. We used this model, adapted to the rich semantic content of Shining Nikki player posts, to examine the average player sentiment before, during, and after the controversy and player mobilization.¹ We report the results of this sentiment analysis below. Initially, we applied sentiment analysis to the entire dataset, but as the patterns remained consistent, we ultimately restricted the analysis to a two-week window encompassing the week before and the week after the controversy. Third, using the trained BERT-based models, we also conducted a topic modeling analysis of the 6151 posts from the most active period of the controversy and a broader set of posts covering the same period used for the sentiment analysis (Grootendorst, 2022). We used the topic modeling results to corroborate our qualitative analysis, and we refer to these results in our qualitative analysis of interaction frames.

We also conducted 14 in-depth interviews with active Shining Nikki players who participated in the mobilization against the game company.² Here our procedure was to seek volunteer interviewees in the Shining Nikki official Super Topic. The 14 interviewees were predominantly female, with only one male participant. The average age of participants was 21.29 years old. Most players were situated in high-income areas such as Beijing, Shanghai and Suzhou. Virtually all subjects were active players during the conflict and played the game daily. The mean cumulative expenditure on in-game purchases was 5308.93 yuan (approximately US$746.44). This is a considerable sum for young people in China for a single game, even if they come from middle- and upper-middle- class backgrounds. The semi-structured interviews centered on the players’ thoughts and emotions on Shining Nikki, their experience playing the game, as well as how and why they mobilized against Papergames.

Finally, given that this case involves a commercial collaboration between the game company and the idol Wu Xuanyi,³ we also conducted participant observation in the idol’s official Super Topic during the event period and collected relevant materials. Unfortunately, due to the specific norms of fan communities—which dictate that the space should be free of conflict or disagreement and instead filled with praise for the idol—the forum was swiftly sanitized. Posts involving arguments or controversy have been deleted, rendering firsthand fan-generated content no longer accessible.

The symbolic world of Shining Nikki and its violation as a source of grievances

The Shining Nikki game is comprised of three main aspects: attractive virtual garments, an elaborate game storyline, and the character of Nikki. First, since it is a dress-up game, the main priority centers around selecting and combining various intricately designed costumes. In line with the joint production of the symbolic world of Shining Nikki, players regularly style Nikki’s outfits and exchange ideas in the digital community. Second, although it is fundamentally a dress-up game, Shining Nikki presents an elaborate virtual world, which also increases the appeal of the game product (Kücklich, 2009). The game summons players to the virtual world of Miraland, which met a tragic end 680 years ago. The players’ mission is to travel back before its destruction, joining forces with Nikki to alter the destiny of Miraland. In this journey, costumes are not merely decorative items but central instruments for preserving Miraland by means of beauty. Thus, alongside graphic design, Papergames dedicates considerable resources to developing a captivating virtual world that players explore while collecting various costumes with Nikki.

The symbol of Nikki takes center stage in the game world of Shining Nikki. Nikki, a young girl with vibrant pink hair, has a passion for creating and coordinating fashionable outfits. Players—“stylists” in the game’s symbolic universe—dress her in various outfits and embark on adventures with her. She has a fondness for watching idol dramas and although her singing may be off-key and her rapping comical, she is able to perform like a star. The interview subjects in this study repeatedly emphasized their emotional connection to Nikki and how she had a greater significance than simply being a fictional character. For dedicated players, Nikki provides companionship. This is an aspect of the game that Papergames strategically pursues by producing multiple ways for Nikki to communicate with players. For example, when players click on Nikki on the game home page, she interacts with players by mimicking a close friend.

The combination of these elements not only enables players to emotionally immerse themselves in the game world but also drives their financial investment, fostering a sense of ownership over the game. Shining Nikki is a freemium game that incorporates microtransactions. In recent years, the video game industry has become increasingly dependent on this revenue model (Tomić, 2018; Zendle et al., 2020). Players of Shining Nikki are often willing to invest considerable sums to access high-quality costumes and enjoy companionship with Nikki. The game offers daily recharge options, including a small monthly card priced at 30 yuan (approximately US$4.1) and a large monthly card at 68 yuan (approximately US$9.3). Papergames also exploits limited-time events as major revenue drivers, in which players participate in costume lotteries, with a single top-up reaching up to 648 yuan (approximately US$88.8). One of the consistent themes in our interview data is that this monetization model cultivates strong consumer entitlement, leading players to view themselves as stakeholders with legitimate authority over the game. As players’ in-game spending supports the game’s operation, their choices and activities routinely shape game design, granting them a symbolic status within the virtual game world.

Given the players’ strong emotional and financial investment as well as a sense of ownership over Shining Nikki, it should not be surprising that a unilateral action by Papergames, that players perceived as contrary to their own understanding of Nikki as the protagonist in Miraland, became a source of grievances. An idol that had no previous connection to Shining Nikki singing the anniversary song violated two cardinal aspects of that symbolic world: the autonomy of Nikki as a virtual character, and the symbolic authority of players as consumers. Such violations were captured in a lengthy post typical of the reaction of players to the announcement:

I first thought [Wu] was just singing one song live. I had no idea she was singing the anniversary song until I checked out the Super Topic. Us playing the game isn’t just about the stylish clothes, it’s about all the adventures and memories we’ve had with Nikki. We’re topping up Shining Nikki’s funds so Nikki can get fancier clothes and we grow together. Now you’re letting someone else sing the first anniversary song between us, what about our little superstar Nikki? Do you guys really care about us players? (1 August 2020, 00:00)

The controversy over the collaboration with Wu Xuanyi led to a rapid decline in player sentiments concerning Shining Nikki and Papergames, as illustrated in Figures 1 and 2. Figure 1 shows the average daily sentiment score between 24 July and 10 August. The scores represent the probabilistic confidence of the language model, trained on manually labeled data. A value of 1 indicates the highest confidence in classifying a post as positive, –1 the highest confidence in classifying it as negative, and 0 the confidence in classifying it as neutral. Although the classification score of an individual post carries limited meaning, the aggregated average across thousands of posts over time provides a reliable indicator of shifts in player sentiment. As shown in Figure 1, sentiment turned sharply negative during the peak of the controversy, and returned to a slightly positive baseline only after Papergames announced the abandonment of the collaboration on 2 August. Figure 2 offers a more granular view of sentiment dynamics, presenting the hourly trajectory of average sentiment scores. Notably, the downward turn in sentiment coincides precisely with the announcement of the collaboration with Wu Xuanyi. Taken together, these figures demonstrate how the planned collaboration generated widespread controversy and anger.

Topic analysis based on natural language modeling reveals a similar picture. During the conflict period of 31 July–2 August, four of the top five topics were directly related to the controversy, with only the one remaining topic concerning players’ sharing of virtual clothes. The top topics during the controversy stood in contrast to the periods before (24–30 July) and after (3–10 August), when discussions revolved around routine issues such as card draws, new game functions, sharing virtual costumes, and technical bugs. Modeling the curated 6151 posts from the most heated period of the controversy revealed that the players’ mobilization revolved around the following topics (in decreasing order of importance): the details of the collaboration with Wu Xuanyi, outrage toward Papergames, dissatisfaction with Nikki’s replacement with Wu Xuanyi in performing the anniversary song, conflict with Wu Xuanyi fans, and celebrations over the cancelation of the collaboration. In addition, strategies for inflicting damage on Papergames were also frequent topics of discussion.

Guard Our Daughter

The “Guard Our Daughter” (GOD) frame reflected the symbolic bond between players and the protagonist of the digital game world, Nikki. Through this frame, players conveyed their strong emotional attachment to Nikki, who serves as the core symbol of the game world. The frame also reflected outrage and an explicit challenge to the replacement of Nikki with an unrelated idol for the anniversary song.

Following the unofficial announcement on 31 July that Wu Xuanyi would sing the anniversary theme song of Shining Nikki, the leading Shining Nikki game strategy group quickly circulated the announcement in the official Super Topic. Subsequently, a sudden flood of posts in the gaming community showed a wave of concern and dissatisfaction, as illustrated by the following post:

Co-branding is bearable in normal times but stay away from the anniversary theme song! On the anniversary, I simply want to hear Nikki’s voice and view her performance. Would you be pleased if your idol’s birthday was hijacked by another singer? (1 August 2020, 00:21)

Since the Shining Nikki players have imbued the anniversary and its theme song with deep symbolic significance, their reaction to the replacement was highly negative and grievance-driven.

It was at this juncture that the expression “my daughter” spread widely among players to emphasize their intense emotional connection with Nikki. Numerous posts underscored players attachment to Nikki as a surrogate daughter, exemplified by the following excerpt:

The Nikki Series is the game I have been playing for the longest. . . . Sometimes, I feel terrible about life, but then I find joy when I draw a cute dress for my daughter. When I’m up late at night and I can’t sleep, I enjoy figuring out a great outfit for my daughter. . . . I usually don’t talk this much, but I’m so fond of my daughter. . . . Awful things like this [business cooperation] make me feel disappointed and heartbroken. (1 August 2020, 2:18)

One factor that contributed to the evolution of players’ grievances into the frame GOD was the heated online dispute between players and the fans of Wu Xuanyi. While the idol’s fans viewed the situation as a routine and profitable business operation, Shining Nikki players viewed it as an affront to Nikki. Subsequently, the fans interpreted players’ grievances against collaboration as a show of contempt toward their beloved star. These differing perspectives on the anniversary song led to heated exchanges in various online fora. The players protested against the idol’s fans’ assertion that “Wu Xuanyi is the real-life prototype of Nikki” (2 August 2020, 9:12) and argued that “Nikki surpasses Wu in terms of established status, widespread acclaim, and financial success” (1 August 2020, 5:58).

There were also many posts in which players expressed that they were earmarking their spending (Zelizer, 1994) within the game as their contribution to Nikki. In line with Zelizer’s emphasis on earmarking as imbuing money with meanings and emotional significance, players underlined that “the money meant for our daughter was counted as a credit to Wu Xuanyi” (1 August 2020, 8:35) as being another source of grievance. Players even utilized a typical form of kongping (“comment control”), which entailed promoting a specific comment to the top swiftly by accumulating likes and comments in the comments section.

Furthermore, players highlighted Nikki’s irreplaceability and superiority over Wu Xuanyi by using concise and impactful phrases like “the No.1 designer,” and “No three-dimensional star can replace Nikki!” (1 August 2020, 1:08). These confrontations between players and fans reinforced the players’ insistence that Nikki was the only worthy choice to sing the song, reflecting their determination to guard the Nikki symbol.

As a result of these online interactions, the players’ grievances coalesced around the frame of GOD. In coalescing around this frame, players capitalized on Nikki as the focal symbol of the game world and their emotional connection to Nikki as their surrogate daughter. The collective mobilization around the GOD frame also signaled players’ willingness to stand up against the business partnership that violated Nikki’s significance as the heart of Shining Nikki game world. However, at this point the players’ contention was primarily with Wu Xuanyi fans and apart from aired grievances, there was little sign of organized effort against the game company. That situation changed with the emergence of the “Screw Papergames Precisely” (SPP) frame, which targeted Papergames directly.

Screw Papergames Precisely

Papergames initially remained silent when the announcement of the collaboration with Wu Xuanyi led to outrage among players. This stance did not substantially change during the online confrontation between players and Wu Xuanyi fans. Although these exchanges temporarily channeled players’ grievances toward fans and the fandom rather than Papergames, the players soon began to confront the company directly, echoing common sentiments and assertions against Papergames. Two of these assertions stood out because they amounted to a clear contention against the company itself. One of these is the vulgar slogan “jingzhun ri die,” which is a wordplay on the company’s name in Chinese characters. Given the context, it can be translated as “Screw Papergames Precisely.” The other one is the phrase “jinzhu baba,” which can be translated as “bankroll daddy.” The Shining Nikki players used the first slogan as a call to direct their anger and efforts against Papergames, which they blamed for the whole incident. They employed the second phrase to claim authority over the company, even though players stood in a structurally weak position against the successful company that designed and owned the Shining Nikki game. Because of the prominence of the first slogan and the supportive role of the second phrase in online fora, we label the combination of the slogan and the phrase as the “Screw Papergames Precisely (SPP)” frame. The frame was important because it helped the inchoate fury among players to coalesce around placing the blame on the company and asserting their ownership over the game.

The SPP frame called on players to attack the game company directly and avoid getting sidetracked by other disputes. Players were convinced that Papergames intentionally sowed discord among players and fans to divert players’ attention from their frustration with the company. The following post exemplifies their mobilization effort:

Hey, sis! Screw Papergames precisely! No need to be nasty to Wu Xuanyi, and it’s pointless to argue with her fans. We both protect what we love. When we clash [with the fans], the rotten company is snickering in the background because it gets media popularity. . . . Just take the fight to the [expletive] company! (1 August 2020, 8:40)

Meanwhile, there was extensive speculation in online fora that the cooperation was a consequence of “event planners [at Papergames] chasing the idol at the cost of our community resources” (1 August 2020, 7:57). Such suspicion over how “community resources”—namely, players’ spending—were used led players to shift from merely articulating blame to asserting their figurative position as “bankroll daddies,” grounded in their identity as paying consumers within the game world. As one player energetically articulated in the online forum, “Our position as the bankroll daddy of bullshit Papergames allows us to make demands” (1 August 2020, 10:05). In this sense, players used in-game expenditures to justify their ownership of the game world and to underline the legitimacy of challenging the game company. This figurative positioning was further consolidated in the clashes with Wu Xuanyi’s fans. Players expressed dissatisfaction in their own fora over the idol’s fans belittling them and insisting that they were merely mindless fans of Shining Nikki. In response, they displayed a dismissive attitude, as exemplified by one user’s remark: “Fans of the game? Nah—I’m Papergames’ daddy” (1 August 2020, 20:17). In short, the phrase “bankroll daddy” in the SPP frame, which quickly gained popularity, enabled players to claim figurative authority over the game company.

To summarize, the SPP frame sought to highlight Papergames as the main culprit in the whole controversy. The SPP frame thus attributed blame, an issue that was obscured in the GOD frame. Besides pointing fingers, this frame asserted ownership and a stakeholder position in the game, rooted in the players’ identity as consumers. This figurative stance operated by adopting dominant masculine cultural tropes such as being the “bankroll daddy” of the game company (Noonan, 1995). Although this was a gesture expressed in a masculine idiom, it was instrumental in the players’ mobilization to force the company by threatening collective abandonment of the game, as will be seen in the next frame.

Quitting frame and power dynamics in video games

The attribution of blame combined with the ownership assertion over the game paved the way for Shining Nikki players to find a tangible challenge to the powerful game company. Players comprehended that the financial support provided by themselves as the “bankroll daddy” was crucial for the actions of Papergames, as illustrated by a representative post: “Cash flow is the lifeblood of the Papergames” (1 August 2020, 17:26). Consequently, given that the company’s profits hinged on in-game transactions and player support, the players collectively announced their intention to stop financial transactions and abandon the game altogether as effective actions against Papergames.

The frame that emerged in online forums, which we label “Quitting,” encompassed two actions. First, the players suggested their fellow players refrain from spending money within the game. The Shining Nikki gaming community was rife with the phrase “tingke,” which means to stop topping up in-game funds that are used to buy various costumes and services within the game. There was also the intriguing act of “shai ketiao,” which involves sharing top-up bars. Shining Nikki players’ past purchases within the game are typically shown in a lengthy bar format, along with details of in-game recharge amounts and the player’s current achievement level in the game. Many players displayed high top-up bars on the forum, indicating their substantial spending within the game to “prove the right to speak” as the bankroll daddy (Player no. 4). The purpose of these displays was to exert economic pressure on Papergames by making the financial damage visually explicit. As one avid player stated to us while she was recounting the events, “Papergames is run by businessmen, so of course, they’re all about making money. So first, we gotta make sure we mention how much cash we put in, and then when we talk to the company, they’ll take us seriously” (Player no. 3). Here, players recognized that, in negotiating with a business like Papergames, their most effective bargaining chips was in-game spending.

The second action was the more extreme course of abandoning the video game en masse. Many players stated put it in the online forum, “If they actually confirm [the cooperation with the idol Wu Xuanyi], I’m out of here” (1 August 2020, 11:14). In addition to posing a threat to Papergames, players frequently announced their resolve to quit by providing direct feedback to gaming customer service. Abandoning the game was not just a desperate move or an emotional outburst from the player, but a strategic threat to Papergames. As one player put it, “If we hold off on topping up now, us being players, the company can lure us into spending later. But if we quit [the game], they will never get a penny out of me!” (Player no. 14). Players were cognizant that since the commercial value of a video game drops as its active user numbers decline, the game company was sensitive to any sudden fall in player participation.

It soon became evident that players were succeeding in mobilizing around the threat to abandon the game as a protest against Papergames’ partnership with the idol. These threats often took the form of concrete action suggestions: “One screenshot revealing the top-up quantity. One sentence: ‘you get the idol, we’re exiting the game!’ Let’s send [the posts] collectively! We are the bankroll daddy of Shining Nikki! Screw it and be done! Girls, keep going!” (2 August 2020, 12:29). More significantly, players grasped that the company’s decisions could only be swayed if sufficient number of players posed a threat to the company. The following is a detached analysis of the incident from one player:

The most effective countermeasure is to just flood the comment section [of the Shining Nikki official account] and the [Shining Nikki] Super Topic. In the Super Topic, you put something out there for everyone to see, some agree, some hit the like button, some leave a comment. With increased popularity of and support [for such posts], the game creators are more likely to spot player sentiments and act faster. (Player no. 10)

Once the “Quitting” frame spread widely in online fora, the players’ grievances and objections against collaboration with an idol became a successful campaign against the game company. The “Quitting” frame reached considerable volume and intensity on 1 August, the second night of the controversy. As a result, Papergames officially declared the termination of the collaboration and issued an apology to the players in the early hours of 2 August. The announcement clarified that the company intended to have Wu Xuanyi join as a chorus guest for the Shining Nikki anniversary song, rather than performing it alone. Most importantly, Papergames explicitly acknowledged the symbolic importance of Nikki as the protagonist of the game and the deep emotional attachment players developed toward Nikki, in close alignment with the requests articulated through the GOD frame, as can be seen in their official declaration:

We should and are willing to endure criticism for the poor experience you had due to our lack of consideration. . . . The production team would like to convey our most sincere apologies to all stylists affected by this event. In upcoming campaigns, we will ensure to engage in thorough reflection. We cherish and appreciate the sentiments, support, and concern you have for Shining Nikki, as well as your love for Nikki. (2 August 2020, 1:24)

The apology was in fact a calculated move by the game company. The 2020 anniversary event proceeded as planned following the apology, generating US$5,592,794 in recharge revenue from iOS users alone over the 12-day campaign period (4–15 August) (Qimai Data, 2025).⁴ This suggests that the company compromised with players to avoid potential financial losses—an act that implicitly acknowledged the players’ symbolic ownership of the game world.

The triumph of the “Quitting” frame indicates the evolving power dynamics between players and game companies. A coalition of players emerged and vowed to quit, threatening a decrease in their dependence on the company (Emerson, 1962). As game companies still depend on players to generate revenue, players, the structurally weak party, gained authority over the game creator, the structurally dominant party. Predictably, the underlying asymmetry remained, despite the successful mobilization. The reason is that players are still heavily dependent on the game company for wants and needs satisfied through the Shining Nikki gameplay. One interviewee pointed out the issue of players threatening to quit, “A bunch of players say they’ll stop topping up the game, but if the shitty company releases awesome costumes, most players will buy it” (Player no. 8). This aligns with Alha et al. (2018), who note that players with heavy investment in a game are often unlikely to actually quit. In short, players, as a coalition of actors with limited resources and few opportunities for interaction with each other, lack the organizational capacity to sustain a collective mobilization against a highly-organized actor such as a large game company (Mann, 1970). However, as this study shows, although a deep asymmetry characterizes the relation between a game company and players, players can manage to mobilize collectively if the symbolic world that they take for granted is violated.

Conclusion

The case of Shining Nikki illustrates a distinctive form of gamer activism we call game-world violation, whereby players’ resistance and mobilization revolve around contention over the symbolic game world. Prior research has shown that gamer activism is closely linked to the symbolic elements of video games, such as characters, narratives, and broader game culture (Burgess and Jones, 2017; Chew, 2022; Farokhmanesh, 2024; Reardon et al., 2017; Strauss, 2024). Building on this line of work, this study further investigates the process by which players’ shared grievances about the symbolic game world translated into organized mobilization. In doing so, we employ the concept of game-world violation to highlight the symbolic universe of the video game itself as the important contention site. This concept captures the process wherein the game world acknowledged by players is unilaterally violated by game producers, represented by game companies, thereby triggering collective action. Based on the case of Shining Nikki, we further contend that this resistance stemmed from a sense of ownership over the game world. That sense of ownership was rooted in the co-creation of a game’s symbolic world, and it was further reinforced by the commercial dynamics of a freemium game such as Shining Nikki.

To unpack the process of player mobilization, we use the theoretical lens of interactional framing (Reinecke and Ansari, 2021). Through this perspective, we can see how grievances and expectations around Shining Nikki’s symbolic game world took shape in three frames: “Guard Our Daughter,” which underscored their emotional bond with the protagonist of the game, Nikki; “Screw Papergames Precisely,” which directed players’ contention toward the game company Papergames; and “Quitting,” which enabled players to translate their sense of ownership into actionable threats. These frames, in different ways, empowered players to assert authority over the game world. More than that, they made possible an organized challenge against Papergames. The remarkable participation of Shining Nikki players in this mobilization ultimately secured concessions from Papergames. The collective mobilization in the Shining Nikki case demonstrates how the symbolic world of a game, when combined with the means of economic resistance provided by the game’s monetization model, can become the ground for effective resistance. By showing that player resistance has its roots in the ownership of the symbolic universe of a video game, our study contributes to game studies by providing a novel explanation for how players challenge the entrenched power asymmetry in the co-creation of video games.

Accordingly, game-world violation in the case of Shining Nikki demonstrates how a game’s virtual world can turn into an arena of gamer activism with sociopolitical significance in the real world. Players’ collective mobilization is not simply tied to entertainment but also to cultural identity, the commodification of play, and players’ claims to authorship and control (Banks, 2013; de Certeau, 1984; Coleman and Dyer-Witheford, 2007; Harambam et al., 2011). However, player activism in highly commercialized freemium games such as Shining Nikki also carries potential risks. Unlike buy-to-play games like Mass Effect 3, which are produced in advance, these pay-to-win games depend on ongoing player investment, potentially pressuring developers to prioritize player demands over creative freedom. This tension between the cultural and economic logic is deeply embedded in gamer activism defending game worlds.

Footnotes

Acknowledgements

We sincerely thank Tianbiao Zhu and the reviewers for their constructive feedback and careful guidance. We are also grateful to the players we interviewed for generously sharing their time and insights.

ORCID iDs

Zitong Jin

Kurtuluş Gemici

Ethical considerations

Our study did not require ethics committee approval as it did not involve animal or human clinical trials. All participants were adults and they provided informed consent before participating in the study. The anonymity and confidentiality of the participants were guaranteed and participation was completely voluntary.

Consent to participate

Informed consent was obtained before participation and the consent was granted through digital confirmation.

Consent for publication

In line with ethical guidelines, informed consent was obtained from all participants before using their anonymized interview data for academic publication.

Author contributions

Zitong Jin designed and performed research; Zitong Jin and Kurtuluş Gemici analyzed data and wrote the paper.

Funding

The authors received no financial support for the research, authorship, and/or publication of this article.

Declaration of conflicting interests

The authors declared no potential conflicts of interest with respect to the research, authorship, and/or publication of this article.

Data availability statement

The main data used in this study are in the public domain. Anonymized interview data are available from the corresponding author for reasonable requests.

Notes

Author biographies

Zitong Jin is a PhD candidate in the Department of Sociology, Zhejiang University. Her research interests include video game culture and the political economy of the data industry in China.

Kurtuluş Gemici (PhD, UCLA) is a comparative-historical sociologist working on economic sociology, political economy, contentious politics, and sociological theory in the Department of Sociology, Zhejiang University. His previous publications include articles in Socio-Economic Review, Theory & Society, Sociological Theory, Mobilization, Regional Studies, and Politics & Society as well as Capital Mobility and Distributional Conflict in Chile, South Korea, and Turkey (Routledge, 2020). He is currently completing a book on the origins of neoclassical economics.

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