外星科技：中國紅白機時代的「隱形遊戲巨頭」
——從山寨FC卡帶到中文遊戲開拓者，一段被遺忘的大陸遊戲史

在九〇年代初的「山寨黃金時代」，中國遊戲產業尚處於草創階段，一家名為「外星科技」（ETC）的公司悄然誕生於福建福州。1993年成立的它，最初只是專門製造任天堂紅白機（FC）卡帶的電子公司。彼時任天堂尚未正式進入中國市場，取而代之的是風靡全國的小霸王學習機與眾多未授權的遊戲機，催生出龐大的山寨產業鏈。

外星科技早期的主要業務是製作盜版合卡，最著名的如《500合1》等經典。但隨著技術的逐步成熟，它開始走向一條「偽正版」之路：破解FC遊戲ROM，嵌入中文字庫，進行漢化甚至魔改，開創屬於中國玩家的本土FC遊戲時代。

許多玩家至今仍記得那些充滿漢字的經典畫面。外星科技漢化的作品包含《吞食天地》（改名為《三國志英傑傳》）、《勇者鬥惡龍》（改為《封神榜》）、《最終幻想》（譯為《太空戰士》）以及《聖火徽章》（譯為《火焰紋章》）等。這些名稱不僅深入人心，更啟蒙一代中國玩家對RPG與策略遊戲的認識。

外星科技的「魔改」手法別具一格，充滿本土想像力。他們常將原作中的日本戰國背景改為中國古代，如三國或封神榜故事，角色名稱也加以本地化，例如將「史萊姆」翻譯成「粘液怪」。此外，遊戲的解謎難度與語言邏輯也作出調整，以符合中國玩家的遊戲習慣。

在業務拓展過程中，外星科技與小霸王之間曾有過一段蜜月期。1995至1998年間，外星為小霸王定制多款專屬合卡，像是《小霸王其樂無窮》，並共同推廣捆綁銷售。小霸王提供硬體銷售渠道，外星則負責內容輸出與漢化。這段合作促成FC中文遊戲的普及。然而，當雙方的利益開始衝突，小霸王自建漢化團隊後，外星科技瞬間失去最大客戶，雙方的合作關係告終。由於皆屬於未經授權的產業鏈，這場「山寨界內鬥」最終不了了之。2000年後，隨著小霸王日漸式微，外星科技也試圖轉型至GBA、PSP等新興平台，然而其影響力已大不如前。

儘管如此，外星科技仍嘗試製作原創遊戲，如2001年的《水滸神獸》(台灣廣譽科技為原版)，被視為中國最早的「類寶可夢」FC遊戲，還有如《超級中國拳》這類仿照《街頭霸王》設計、加入李小龍與關羽等中式角色的動作遊戲。然而，外星的原創作品在技術層面頗具爭議：畫面素材多數直接抄襲自日本遊戲，程序錯誤、存檔遺失與死機問題頻出，令其品質飽受詬病，甚至被戲稱為「外星科技，內星品質」。最終，隨著2000年後文化部加大力度打擊盜版、PS與PC平台崛起，加之外星科技無法完成技術轉型，其核心團隊多於2005年前後解散，轉而投身手機山寨遊戲或其他電子行業。

儘管如此，外星科技在中國遊戲史上的地位不可忽視。它讓數以百萬計的中國玩家第一次接觸到帶有完整劇情、中文介面的RPG遊戲，也為後來的本土遊戲創作奠定語言基礎與玩法習慣。如今，外星科技所製作的卡帶已成為玩家社群中的珍藏品，部分稀有卡在二手市場價格高達五百元人民幣。哔哩哔哩平台上更有專門考古「外星漢化遊戲」的UP主，致力於整理與還原那段被遺忘的歷史。

正如一位資深玩家曾說：「我們罵它盜版，卻靠它學會了什麼是RPG。」外星科技的存在，本就是中國遊戲產業在缺乏正版管道與技術資源下的一場「野蠻嘗試」。當今的中國遊戲業已能誕生如《原神》《黑神話：悟空》這樣具國際影響力的作品，回首外星科技的崛起與凋零，也許正該記得——每個產業的發展，都始於一群不完美卻充滿熱情的開拓者。

Alien Technology: The "Invisible Gaming Giant" of China’s Famicom Era
— From Bootleg FC Cartridges to Pioneers of Chinese Localization: A Forgotten Chapter in Mainland Gaming History

In the early 1990s, during what many refer to as China's “golden age of bootlegging,” the country’s gaming industry was still in its infancy. Amid this backdrop, a company named Alien Technology (ETC) quietly emerged in Fuzhou, Fujian. Founded in 1993, it initially specialized in manufacturing Famicom (Nintendo Family Computer, or FC) cartridges. At the time, Nintendo had not officially entered the Chinese market, leaving room for clone consoles like Xiao Ba Wang (“Little Tyrant”) to dominate, along with a vast ecosystem of unlicensed gaming hardware.

Alien Technology’s early business revolved around producing pirated multicarts—most famously titles like “500-in-1.” However, as their technical capabilities evolved, they began shifting toward what might be called “pseudo-legitimate” products: they cracked FC ROMs, embedded Chinese fonts, and localized games through translation and modification, effectively ushering in a localized FC gaming era for Chinese players.

Many gamers still vividly recall those Chinese-language versions of iconic games. Alien localized titles such as Destiny of an Emperor (renamed Heroes of the Three Kingdoms), Dragon Quest (The Investiture of the Gods), Final Fantasy (Space Warriors), and Fire Emblem (Flame Emblem). These names became deeply rooted in the memory of a generation and served as their first real exposure to RPG and strategy gaming.

What made Alien’s work stand out was its uniquely “magical modifications” (魔改): a mix of localization and radical reimagining. Game narratives originally set in Japan’s Sengoku period were rewritten with Chinese themes, such as Romance of the Three Kingdoms or Investiture of the Gods. Characters were renamed—for instance, “Slime” from Dragon Quest became “Sludge Monster” (粘液怪). Puzzle difficulty and in-game dialogue were also simplified to better suit Chinese gaming habits.

Alien Technology’s growth coincided with a brief but productive partnership with Xiao Ba Wang. From 1995 to 1998, Alien produced custom multicarts like Xiao Ba Wang: Endless Fun, bundled with learning consoles. Xiao Ba Wang handled hardware distribution, while Alien localized and produced game content. This collaboration helped Chinese-language FC games reach homes across the nation.

But the relationship soured by 1999. Xiao Ba Wang developed its own localization team, abruptly cutting ties with Alien and removing their biggest client. Since both companies operated in a legal gray zone—without any proper licensing from game developers—their “bootleg turf war” ultimately fizzled out without legal consequence. After 2000, as Xiao Ba Wang declined, Alien tried pivoting to newer platforms like the GBA and PSP, but with limited success.

Despite their waning influence, Alien Technology did attempt some original game development. In 2001, they released Water Margin Beast—a Pokémon-inspired FC game that some consider China’s earliest “monster collection” RPG (originally developed in Taiwan by Guangyu Tech). Another notable title was Super China Fist, a heavily modified take on Street Fighter, featuring Chinese icons like Bruce Lee and Guan Yu as playable characters.

However, these original efforts were marred by criticism. Much of their visual art was plagiarized directly from Japanese games. Technical flaws—frequent crashes, broken save systems—were rampant, giving rise to the joke: “Alien Technology, Domestic Quality” (外星科技，內星品質).

By the mid-2000s, several factors sealed the company’s fate: increasing government crackdowns on software piracy, the rise of PlayStation and PC gaming, and Alien’s inability to make a technological leap forward. Their core team disbanded around 2005, with many shifting to mobile game cloning or unrelated electronics ventures.

Even so, Alien Technology holds a lasting place in China’s gaming history. It introduced millions of Chinese gamers to fully narrative-driven RPGs in their native language and helped normalize Chinese UI, menus, and stories—paving the way for future domestic developers.

Today, original Alien cartridges are coveted collectibles among retro gaming communities. Some rare multicarts can fetch over 500 RMB on secondhand marketplaces. On platforms like Bilibili, content creators now “excavate” Alien’s translated titles, restoring and documenting this lost era of gaming history.

As one veteran gamer put it:
“We called them pirates, but it was through them we learned what an RPG was.”

Alien Technology’s legacy may be one born of copyright infringement and technical limitations, but it was also a reflection of the creative chaos that shaped the early Chinese game industry. Now that China can produce global hits like Genshin Impact and Black Myth: Wukong, it’s worth remembering: every industry starts somewhere—and often, that beginning is messy, imperfect, but full of passion.