In the gaming world, Ultimate Bounty Hunter, or UBW for those in the know, has quickly become a legend. Launched three years ago, the game has swept aside the competition and captured the hearts of gamers at lightning speed. Today, it's THE most played game in the world, the undisputed king of the rankings. It's impossible to surf the social networks or spend an evening on Zwitch without coming across a broadcast of a frenzied game of UBW.
The concept is as simple as it is ingenious: each player embodies a "hunter" plunged into a labyrinth of paths strewn with pitfalls, combining physical, mental and tactical challenges. The goal? To reach the legendary Sacred Treasure, hidden in the heart of a virtual world, while evading the deadly traps along the way. It's not just a question of skill: you need strategy, nerves of steel and the ability to cooperate... or betray.
Each path is unique, and each test is adapted to the player's level. The most courageous venture onto the red routes, reputed to be almost impossible to complete, while beginners prefer the more forgiving but far less prestigious green paths.
In a crowded Tokyo gaming bar, the atmosphere is electric. A table of gamers is passionately discussing their latest games.
- Did you take those paths? Seriously?" asks one player, wide-eyed.
- Yeah, and I made it all the way to the sixth round before getting eliminated... by a damn lava golem," grumbles the other, shaking his beer.
Laughter erupts from the other end of the table.
- The sixth round? Don't show off too much, I've reached the eighth. That's when you start to see the real traps: illusions, impossible riddles... I left two of my team there.
A third player interrupts, a wry smile on his face.
- You're all amateurs. I picked up a legendary key last week on the blue path. Do you know what that means? Next time, I'm going straight through the black zone portal.
There's a silence, all eyes turn to him. The Black Zones are the forbidden lands of UBW, reserved for the most reckless - or the craziest - players. To enter them is to sign up for an experience where every step may be your last.
The debate is lively, with everyone bragging about their exploits or mocking the failures of others. That's what UBW is all about: a world where every victory is a triumph and every defeat an anecdote to tell.
But despite this, no one has ever managed to reach the ultimate goal: the sacred treasure. Oh, sure, it's possible to finish the game without reaching it. Many are content to do so, boasting of their exploits, their mastery of the most difficult trials and paths. But everyone, without exception, secretly dreams of this treasure. It's an obsession. A legend that drives players to excel, to fail, and to try again and again.
I often ask myself: "What if it were me? What if I was the first to reach it?"
A short silence. Then I smile bitterly and shake my head.
No. Who am I to dream of that? In this game, I'm known as the biggest noob. That's not an exaggeration or a temporary joke. It's a fact. It's even become a sort of running gag on my streams. Every time I launch a game, my subscribers wait for me to make a monumental blunder. A miscalculated jump, an obvious trap that I don't see coming, an absurd decision that costs my team the game... And I always give them what they want.
- Well, this time I still managed to reach path number seven! I declared with a satisfied smile as I looked at my screen.
The chat exploded instantly. The messages scrolled by at breakneck speed, an avalanche of mockery and sarcasm:
"ROAD 7?! But it's a miracle!"
"The legend of the noob progresses, my friends! Soon path 8 before retirement!"
"Don't congratulate yourself too quickly. We all know how it ends with you..."
I glanced at these comments with a small smirk. It was always like that. They were waiting for my downfall, ready to laugh at the slightest of my failures.
"Watch out, he'll activate the trap and die as usual, grab your popcorn!"
"The sacred treasure can rest easy, it's still a long way off!"
Another, more scathing message flashed across the screen:
"Why is this guy still streaming? He's useless, seriously."
But it didn't get to me. After all, this mockery was part of the "game", if I could put it that way. It was thanks to this reputation as a "legendary noob" that I could continue to stream. The role I'd taken on, despite myself at first, had become my trademark. It was what set me apart, what attracted viewers. Above all, it was what allowed me to earn a living.
My gaze fell for a moment on a photo lying beside my keyboard. It was a little damaged, the corners creased with age, but I could still make out my mother's smiling face. Her disappearance had left me with a huge void... and even bigger debts. My father had refused to take them on, claiming he had no obligation after their separation. So it was down to me.
These streams, these taunts, all had a purpose: to help me pay off these debts and avoid going under completely.
I smiled softly, almost imperceptibly, staring at the comments that continued to fly.
- Go on, go on. The more you laugh, the more you fill my kitty," I mocked back.
A few onlookers jumped on the bandwagon:
"He takes responsibility, respect!"
"the king of self-burn!
"Go on, show us how you fail this test, we want a show!"
And that's what it was. They came to laugh at my failures, but I stayed for another reason: each stream brought me a little closer to my freedom.
My name is Jomei Hiroya, I'm 35 and I work as an IT support technician. It's a very mundane job, involving fixing other people's problems, often only to hear complaints in return. It's nothing glamorous, but it's stable and pays the bills.
When I'm not at work, I go live as "Bareass" (Bare Ass), a name my subscribers find as hilarious as it is appropriate. It's not much, but it allows me to earn a little money on top of my salary.
I took my hands off the keyboard and faced the camera.
- Well, folks, that's all for today. Maybe I'll do it again tonight if I have time. In the meantime, thank you for your donations and mockery! Until next time!
I gave an amused smile as I raised my hand, then ended the stream with a click. The window of my streaming software closed, and a pleasant silence replaced the constant sounds of alerts and comments.
I sighed slightly, satisfied. Sure, I still hadn't reached the final boss, but I'd made good progress today. Each session made me feel like I was learning a little more. Thanks to the videos of other players that I watched religiously, I was practicing relentlessly, trying to improve a little with each game.
I rose from my chair and grabbed my coat from the back. Heading for the door, I glanced at the wall clock and my heart stopped for a second.
- Crap!
Without missing a beat, I dashed out of the apartment and headed for the station. I was already late for work, and with public transport, every minute counted.
On the crowded train, I stared out the window, letting my gaze wander in the monotonous scroll of buildings and streets. My mind wandered elsewhere, back to my early days on Ultimate Bounty Hunter.
That was three years ago, when I was 32. A single man, leading a very ordinary life. Nothing special to talk about, except a monotonous daily life. That's when I first heard about UBW. The buzz around the game was incredible. Everyone was talking about it, the streams were exploding, and the community seemed to live to the rhythm of the players' trials and exploits.
One evening, without much thought, I decided to give it a go. I had no particular expectations; to tell the truth, I just wanted to kill time. Then, on a whim, I launched my first stream. Not out of ambition or a desire for success, but simply to try something new.
I still remember my first games. They were a total disaster. The simplest traps would catch me off guard, enemies would eliminate me in a matter of seconds, and the spectators... Well, they were laughing. They laughed at my mistakes, my clumsiness, and for some strange reason, it didn't bother me that much.
Because, despite their mockery, these people were offering me something I hadn't realized before: human interaction. Even if it was through screens, even if it was often to make fun of me, these moments counted. It was better than the silence of my apartment.
The squeal of train brakes brought me back to reality. I looked down at my phone, noting the time. I was really on the edge.
When I finally arrived at work, it was with a figurative hangover - the kind caused by insufficient sleep and an overdose of caffeine. My mind was still somewhat stuck in UBW, reliving my latest failures and progress. But harsh reality caught up with me: another day of solving technical problems for impatient customers lay ahead.
Sitting at my desk, surrounded by a tangle of cables and screens, I prepared myself for a new day's work. The first few hours were often the quietest, or so I told myself to motivate myself a little. The constant noise of notifications and incoming calls would soon begin. But before that, my company phone blinked, announcing that it was time for action. The day faded into the same frantic rhythm of problems to be solved, impatient customers and endless questions. I responded mechanically, like an automaton, resolving technical issues as they arose. Fatigue, already well established, only made each task heavier. And at the end of what seemed like an eternity, I received an e-mail on my phone. One of those emails that suddenly interrupts the monotonous flow of the day.
Jomei stood in front of his screen for a moment, his eyes fixed on the message that had just appeared in his inbox. The e-mail bore the name of Arche Studio, the developer of Ultimate Bounty Hunter (UBW). Normally, this kind of correspondence was reserved for standard communications, such as maintenance updates or new features. However, the tone of this one differed from the ordinary.
[Hello Bareass,
We'd like to express our sincere gratitude for your loyalty and commitment to our Ultimate Bounty Hunter game. As a token of our appreciation, we are pleased to offer you exclusive access to the new version of the game, which will be included in an upcoming DLC.
This makes you the first and only player to benefit from this cutting-edge version, designed to enrich and intensify your gaming experience.
We hope you enjoy this exclusive opportunity, and thank you once again for your continued support.
Yours sincerely
The Arche Studio team]
The message was written with a cool, no-nonsense professionalism. But something wasn't right. How could they have chosen me, of all the players? I was just one streamer among many. It wasn't as if I had a huge reputation in the community. If anything, more influential players or developers of other games might have received this kind of attention. But what about me?
I took a deep breath, forcing myself to remain calm. This could only be a set-up. A fake, or worse, a Trojan horse. Who, other than me, would be naive enough to fall for this kind of trap? It was too good to be true.
I closed the e-mail without even bothering to open it further. This kind of thing happened all the time, messages like these, supposedly "official", hiding behind tempting appearances. I'd seen dozens of them, e-mails from companies claiming to offer promotions, early access, or "exclusive gifts" in order to get personal information.
It was a simple scam. Maybe the attached file contained a virus, or malware. It didn't matter. I'd learned to be wary of this kind of approach, and once again, it was obvious that this e-mail had no real value.
I sighed deeply. In any case, I had no intention of paying it any further attention. I would return to my usual routine. The e-mail disappeared into oblivion, and I went back to my daily chores, without worrying about what looked like a desperate attempt at phishing.
The day finally came to an end, and as I closed my workstation, my colleague gave me a curious look.
- So, Bareass, you stream tonight?
He had called me that, as if his quirky tone was intended to encourage me to respond. He knew that this pseudonym was my virtual identity, the one I used on Zwitch. The kind of thing that made me shiver inside, but I just smiled, as I always do. It was a way of taking the jabs without letting them get to me.
- Well, I'll see," I replied with a laugh, feigning indifference, then waved my hand to end the conversation.
I stood up and quickly left the office. The drive home gave me some respite, but also time to think. The city stretched out around me as I thought about that strange e-mail. I had convinced myself that it was a fake, an attempt at manipulation. After all, who would have sent me such a message, a simple support technician turned streamer by chance, among thousands of others?
And yet, something still intrigued me. Maybe I'd been too quick to dismiss the idea. Who knows? Maybe I was exactly the kind of profile the UBW company was looking for. The truth was, I was the talk of the town, and sometimes that could lead to unexpected opportunities. What if this e-mail wasn't a scam? What if I was wrong to ignore it?
Arriving home, I dropped into my armchair and picked up my laptop. I opened the e-mail again, this time more carefully. Reading it again, I came across a section I hadn't noticed the first time.
[Privacy rules:
"In order to preserve the exclusive nature of this release and to ensure an optimal experience for all players upon its official release, we ask that you do not share, stream or disclose any content related to this version of the game to anyone. Your cooperation is essential to maintain the surprise and excitement surrounding this update."]
These lines had escaped me at first glance. They suddenly struck me. Why not tell my subscribers? Why not make it an event on Zwitch? It was in total contradiction with what was being asked of me. Keeping it a secret, avoiding revealing any information... It made the situation even more intriguing.
I wondered why they were asking me to maintain such confidentiality if this version of the game really was a preview. Why me? Why now?
A slight tension rose in me. This time, it was hard not to wonder.
In the end, I told myself I had nothing to lose. If it really was a joke, no one would know. After all, nobody expected much from me, and at worst, it would just be another e-mail to be thrown in with the rest of those who try their luck with scams. But, come to think of it, there was something captivating about the promise of exclusive content. Maybe it wasn't just a prank.
I made a quick, no-return decision: I downloaded the .exe file attached to the e-mail. It wasn't necessarily sensible, but after all, I wasn't risking much. If it was indeed a piracy attempt, I had the means to counter it.
The download only took a few seconds, and soon the file was there, on my desktop. I opened it without thinking too much, eager to find out what was behind it. The installer launched straight away, and the interface seemed completely standard, with nothing suspicious. No warning messages appeared, and the whole operation seemed smooth and clean. The game looked authentic, nothing more, nothing less.
I wasn't a computer security expert, but I knew the signs of a clean installation. No additional files, no pop-ups, no suspicious access requests. It looked like a legitimate program. And yet, there was always that little voice in my head reminding me that this could all be a trap, carefully disguised.
I hesitated for a moment, but curiosity won out.
I clicked on "Install". After all, I had nothing to lose. And if this turned out to be a marketing stunt, a simple test to see if I'd fall for it, then so be it. I'd just be another player in this big digital world.
I smile, thinking that at least it would be a bit more exciting than my usual days.
Well, let's see what happens.