AN : This world the first souls game lol
Sunday 1 November 2000. New York.
In a dim apartment room somewhere in New York, a young man named Wilson sat alone, completely absorbed in his game as the night stretched on. The room was quiet except for the faint hum of electronics and the rapid clicking of his controller, the kind of late-night silence that only gamers truly understood.
Wilson was fully focused, his hands moving with precision as he mashed his controller, eyes locked onto the screen. On it, his character was locked in a brutal fight against a grotesque werewolf creature, its body covered in dark fur while a long, chameleon-like tongue lashed unpredictably, adding another layer of chaos to the battle. The tension built with every second, his character barely holding on.
Then suddenly—he shouted.
"F*CK!!!! NOT AGAIN, DAMN, DAMN, DAMN!" Wilson shouted at the top of his lungs, his frustration bursting out without restraint as his grip tightened around the controller. For a split second, he almost hurled it across the room, his arm already moving, but he stopped midway and glanced down at it. This wasn't just any controller—it was his expensive Robo-cop special edition. Clicking his tongue, he redirected the throw, tossing it hard onto the pillow instead, then slumped back with a long, irritated groan, running a hand through his hair as the loss sank in.
"Damn wolf… why the F*ck does a werewolf have a long poisonous tongue!? And I died again—this is like the 12th time already, for F*ck's sake! This game is so sh*t!" Wilson groaned, his voice filled with frustration as he stared at the screen in disbelief. He leaned forward, elbows on his knees, trying to process what just happened, but the irritation kept building instead.
Yeah, he was playing Nightmare Hunter, and right now he was stuck in a place called "High Swamp." It was one of those areas that looked simple at first glance, but the deeper you went, the more it punished every mistake. The boss here—"Sir Touriq - The Imperial Councelour"—was the main reason he kept getting destroyed over and over again.
Wilson clenched his jaw slightly as he replayed the fight in his head. "It's not even fair… that tongue attack is so stupid…" he muttered, though deep down he knew it wasn't random. There was a pattern—there had to be—but every time he thought he figured it out, he still ended up dying.
And now… he had died again.
Then he groaned, staring at his character on the screen with clear frustration. "Oh god… I really hate this… the damn boss run feels like 7 hours! This is so taxing…" he muttered, rubbing his face with one hand as if trying to calm himself down.
The run back to the boss room was no joke either. It took nearly five full minutes from the checkpoint, and it wasn't just a straight path. The route was filled with dangerous enemies placed in just the right spots to punish careless movement. If he rushed even a little, or lost focus for a second, he could easily die before even reaching the boss again.
Wilson leaned back slightly, exhaling in frustration. "It's not just the boss… it's everything before it too…" he complained under his breath, knowing that every retry meant going through the same stressful path again. And that, more than anything, was what made it exhausting.
Wilson inhaled deeply, trying to steady himself. "Okay… one more time. If I lose again… I'm done. I'm switching games…" he muttered, more like convincing himself than making a real decision.
He straightened his posture, grabbed his controller again, and focused. This time, he tried to be calmer, more careful. No rushing. No mistakes.
Wilson moved his character forward, retracing the familiar path toward the boss. He had already gone through this route dozens of times. Every corner, every enemy placement—it was all burned into his memory at this point.
Soon, he approached the cliff area.
He narrowed his eyes slightly. There's a poisonous dog behind that rock. He already knew it. He had died to it before. More than once.
"Alright… I got you this time," he said quietly.
Confident, he moved forward, passing the rock, then quickly repositioned himself, preparing for the ambush. He waited… ready to dodge.
But then—
Because he moved just a little too fast, the timing went off. The dog lunged earlier than he expected, and his dodge came out just a fraction too late.
"—Wait—!"
The attack connected.
His character staggered, hit by the poison effect, and before he could recover, the momentum pushed him right off the cliff.
The screen faded.
"You Died."
"AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAA!" Wilson exploded in pure rage, his voice echoing through the apartment as he shot up from his seat. "DAMN DOG! HOW CAN YOU WAIT LIKE THAT!?" he yelled, pacing back and forth, hands gripping his head as if trying to force the frustration out of his system.
For a moment, he looked like he might actually lose control, his breathing heavy, eyes still locked on the screen as if the boss itself could hear him. "That timing is so stupid… who even designs this kind of thing!?" he continued, his voice dropping into an irritated rant as the adrenaline refused to settle.
Then, from the other side of the wall, a loud, annoyed voice suddenly cut through.
"Shut up, Wilson!"
Wilson froze for a second, blinking as reality snapped back in. His shoulders dropped slightly, the rage fading just a little. "…Sorry..!" he called back, rubbing the back of his head with an awkward sigh, though the frustration was still there, quietly boiling under the surface.
He inhaled again, deeper this time, forcing his frustration down. "This time… definitely," Wilson muttered, his voice lower but more focused. He picked up his controller again, grip tighter now—not out of anger, but determination.
He began the run once more, moving through the familiar path. This time, his movements were more controlled. He didn't rush. Every enemy, every corner, every timing—he handled them carefully, almost methodically. Five minutes passed, but it felt shorter now that he wasn't panicking.
Soon enough, he stood once again in front of the boss room.
Wilson exhaled slowly, steadying himself. "Alright… this time I'm killing that long-tongue freak."
On screen, his character equipped the "Holy Ceremonial Sword," a bastard sword with solid base damage and an additional bonus against undead enemies. It wasn't flashy, but it was reliable—something Wilson had come to appreciate after all those failed attempts.
"Yeah… this is the one," he murmured, adjusting his posture slightly as his focus sharpened.
Without hesitation, he stepped forward.
And the fight against Sir Touriq began once again.
Sir Touriq is a massive creature, towering over the player with a body covered in thick black and green fur that gives him a wild, almost corrupted appearance. His movements are heavy but not slow, and each attack carries weight behind it. In the early phase of the fight, he relies on his claws for wide, sweeping strikes, mixed with sudden grab attacks, aggressive bites, and a chilling howl that briefly disrupts the player's rhythm. Every move feels deliberate, forcing the player to stay alert and respect his range.
However, the real danger begins once his health drops below half. At that point, Sir Touriq reveals his most infamous ability—his long, serpentine tongue. Unlike his earlier attacks, this one is fast, erratic, and extremely difficult to read. It lashes out unpredictably, extending far beyond what players expect, catching those who think they are at a safe distance. To make things worse, the tongue carries a poisonous effect, meaning even a single mistake can quickly spiral into a deadly situation if the player fails to react properly.
This second phase completely changes the pace of the fight. What was once manageable becomes chaotic, forcing players to adapt quickly or be overwhelmed.
Wilson fought, and this time he fought really well. His movements were sharper, more deliberate, and for the first time, everything seemed to align. Sir Touriq's health dropped steadily… 30%… 20%… and then—10%. This was the furthest Wilson had ever reached. His heart started pounding, his grip tightening as adrenaline kicked in.
But there was a problem.
His healing items were already gone.
Wilson swallowed. "Okay… just one more clean phase…" he muttered, eyes locked onto the screen.
For a moment, he played perfectly—dodging, spacing, waiting. He knew what he should do.
But then—greed took over.
Instead of backing off and resetting, he pushed forward. "Just two more hits… I got this!" he said, committing to the attack.
His character swung once.
Then again.
And in that exact moment—
Sir Touriq reacted instantly.
The beast leapt forward with terrifying speed, striking Wilson's character mid-animation before he could recover. The hit connected cleanly, staggering him, and before he could even regain control—
The tongue lashed out.
Followed by a burst of poisonous breath.
Wilson's character froze for a split second… then collapsed.
The screen darkened.
"You Died."
Wilson let out a low growl, "GRRRRR…" his frustration boiling over as he clenched his fists tightly. He was completely pissed off, but instead of stopping, he grabbed his controller again. "One more time… this time!" he muttered, forcing himself back into focus despite the exhaustion creeping in.
He tried again.
And again.
And again.
Each attempt looked promising at first, but Sir Touriq continued to crush him without mercy. Sometimes he died early, sometimes he reached halfway, and a few times he even got close—but never enough. Each failure chipped away at his patience, but at the same time, it sharpened his understanding of the fight.
"…Alright… I see it now…" he whispered after one attempt, his eyes narrowing slightly.
Slowly, without even realizing it, Wilson was improving. His dodges became cleaner, his positioning better, and his reactions sharper. The frustration was still there, but now it was mixed with something else—determination.
Then came the twentieth attempt.
Everything aligned.
Wilson moved carefully, reading every attack, reacting with precision. No panic, no greed. Just pure focus.
Sir Touriq's health dropped… 50%… 30%… 20%…
"Stay calm… stay calm…" Wilson whispered under his breath.
10%.
His heart was pounding, but this time—he didn't rush.
He waited.
Dodged.
Countered.
And finally—
The last hit connected.
Sir Touriq let out a distorted roar before collapsing, its massive body fading away.
Wilson's character stood there… barely alive, with only a sliver of health left.
For a split second, Wilson just stared at the screen.
Then he jumped out of his seat.
"OUGHHH YEAHHH! TAKE THAT, YOU LONG-TONGUE BASTARD!" Wilson shouted, pumping his fist in the air, his entire body filled with adrenaline. "Too easy! This boss is easy as hell! Damn… what a feeling!" he laughed, almost breathless, pacing around his room like he had just won something far bigger than a game.
He couldn't stop smiling. After failing over and over again, after all that frustration and rage, he didn't give up. He kept trying, adjusting, learning, pushing forward—and now he finally did it. That feeling… it was something else entirely. Not just relief, but satisfaction, like he had truly earned this victory with his own effort.
"Man… this is why I play games…" he muttered, still grinning as he looked back at the screen.
"This game is the best game of all time, I can't believe it! Seriously…" he added, shaking his head in disbelief, the earlier anger completely gone. "Alright, let's go… checkpoint first, then I'm taking a break. I'm starving, damn it."
Wilson sat back down, still energized, and guided his character carefully toward the checkpoint this time. No rushing, no mistakes. Once he reached it, he finally relaxed, stopping his ZEPS 3 and leaning back in his chair with a satisfied sigh, the victory still lingering in his chest.
And this is what makes some people truly love this game. Nightmare Hunter is undeniably a hard game, sometimes even frustrating to the point of anger, but if you stay steady, if you endure and keep pushing forward, the feeling it gives in return is something special. It's not just about winning—it's about overcoming yourself, your impatience, your mistakes, and your doubts. Fighting against the odds, failing again and again, and still choosing to try one more time… that journey creates a kind of satisfaction that very few games can deliver.
For many players, that feeling becomes addictive in its own way. The struggle, the learning, the final victory—it all blends into an experience that feels earned rather than given. And because of that, even after all the frustration, many people don't walk away from the game. Instead… they come back for more.
To be continue .
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