The father felt like he’d unknowingly played deep into the night. In the end, age caught up with him—he couldn’t resist sleep anymore, and could only sigh and decide to continue the next day.
The story in this ga felt like it had so kind of magic.
He played slowly all night, because besides the main story there were countless different kinds of fun inside the ga.
Fishing, playing cards, visiting strip clubs, experiencing high society.
You could even take on all sorts of jobs—just like in Cyberpunk 2077. You could temporarily step away from the main plot; even becoming law enforcent was possible. But sooner or later you’d get exposed, beco wanted across the whole city, and then you’d have to run.
As for the main story, he’d only reached the early point where the two male leads t—right up to the part where the first protagonist, Mike, was about to discover he’d been cheated on.
All he could feel was that the content in this ga was unbelievably real—like a second life.
In real life, he also had a frustrating family: disappointing kids, and a wife he was stuck in a marriage crisis with.
Only... his wife wasn’t as bad as the one in the ga. At least she hadn’t put a green hat on him yet.
The more he played, the sadder he felt—yet he still wanted to keep playing.
Because in the ga, he could do things he couldn’t do in real life. He could vent things he had no outlet for in reality.
For example... finding ways to take down those capitalist bosses.
Early the next morning, the father woke up.
He realized he’d been dreaming all night—dreaming about living in Los Santos.
It felt like he had truly beco Mike, and spent a whole day trapped in frustration, yet also mixed with danger and adrenaline.
And oddly, he found he didn’t hate that ssy family life quite as much anymore.
Because in Los Santos, at least he had ways to vent—ways to make life more thrilling and intense.
Co to think of it... could he also consider living a more thrilling life?
Of course, not like the ga—robberies and cris every other minute. But doing sothing more reasonable.
"Wife... should we talk properly?"
As soon as he opened his eyes, he turned toward the other side of the bed, wanting to talk to the wife he’d been on bad terms with for half a year.
But when he turned his head, she was already gone.
He sighed. Lately, he’d almost gotten used to this kind of life.
As their argunts got worse, the only thing left between them was sleeping in the sa bed.
She went to sleep early while he was still awake. And when he woke up, she’d already left—he had no idea where she went.
Probably dance class... or maybe she’d gone sowhere to vent her own frustration, just like he did.
He picked up his phone, sat on the edge of the bed smoking, and dialed her number.
All he got was a busy tone—she clearly didn’t want to deal with his call.
So he settled for texting.
If she wouldn’t answer calls, she’d at least glance at a ssage or two.
He’d never been good with words—never the poetic type. Back when he got together with her, it might’ve been more impulse than anything.
But after so many years together, it wasn’t true that there were no feelings. It was just that emotional crises happened—sothing most people couldn’t avoid.
Before this, he had already been sliding into giving up. Even when his wife talked about separating assets and divorcing, he barely reacted, as if he’d accepted his fate.
But after seeing Mike’s life in GTA 5, sothing in him seed to be stirred.
So for once, he typed a long, rambling, overgrown text ssage and sent it—then imdiately rembered he still had a ga to play.
Video gas were his rare shelter, a safe harbor where he could escape reality.
He got dressed, washed up quickly, then went downstairs.
But when he got down there, he saw his older son already sitting in front of the TV, fully focused on playing Cyberpunk 2077.
A naless anger surged in his chest. He wanted to do sothing.
But then he thought of Mike in the ga.
He wasn’t the only one with a miserable life—Mike was miserable too.
That thought strangely balanced him out. In the end, he only sighed and said:
"Kid, what do you want for breakfast? Dad will make it for you."
"Huh?"
His older son seed startled. He turned back and looked at his father oddly.
"What?"
"Nothing."
"Then what do you want to eat?"
"Gustavo’s pizza."
"Pizza in the morning?"
"Anything’s fine. Whatever. It’s all just killing ti anyway." His older son didn’t seem to care. He kept playing.
"Aren’t you tired of this ga?"
In the end, the father called Gustavo’s pizza place and ordered delivery, then sat on the couch watching his son play Cyberpunk 2077.
"Mm. It’s pretty interesting. If I could, I’d actually like to live in this world."
The father replied with an old-man steadiness, "That world is brutal. The bottom and the top are completely split. Compared to it, our life right now is practically heaven—and that world is basically hell."
His older son said impatiently, "At least I can do more stuff there."
"That’s only because in the ga you can do more."
"Doesn’t matter. I still think it’s better than now."
The father took a deep breath. A rebellious son really was exactly like Mike’s kid in GTA 5...
And then, suddenly, an idea flashed.
"Oh right—I just rembered there’s a new ga that just ca out. Let’s play it."
"You an GTA 5? I tried it earlier. It’s kinda interesting, but I still think Cyberpunk 2077 is more fun."
The older son didn’t care much about GTA 5.
"Dad! I wanna play! I wanna play!"
The younger son suddenly appeared and excitedly ran to the sofa, trying to grab the console.
But the older son clearly wasn’t going to indulge his little brother. He raised a middle finger at him and stubbornly kept monopolizing the console.
"Little bastard." Watching the two—one big, one small—argue, the father felt a wave of helplessness.
Now he missed the ga’s story even more.
He stopped paying attention to their quarrel and went alone to his study.
There, he had a computer he usually used for work and entertainnt. With a better not to see it mindset—no, more like pure avoidance—he went to the study to find so peace.
He didn’t want to deal with the noise in the living room anymore.
He was tired.
Was this a midlife crisis? It really was exactly like Mike in the ga.
And so, the man threw himself back into the world of GTA 5.
Because of his urge to escape, he decided to numb himself with video gas—so his heart wouldn’t be crushed by this miserable midlife crisis.
Picking up where he left off, Mike had discovered his wife was cheating with the tennis coach. Furious, he called Franklin—whom he’d just started building a good relationship with—and headed straight for the coach’s house.
The coach lived in a semi-suspended luxury villa.
Even Mike—who’d robbed plenty of tis—couldn’t afford a house like that. That only made him angrier, and humiliation surged up inside him.
Likewise, the father playing the ga—this middle-aged man—felt a deep sense of resonance.
If his wife did sothing like that... would he do sothing as crazy as Mike?
His answer was probably no.
Soone who always chose to—avoid—wouldn’t dare go that far. Even if the family wasn’t harmonious, he wouldn’t dare do sothing extre to solve the crisis.
He knew most middle-aged n’s families were similar—stuck in a midlife crisis, unable to find a solution.
No... maybe there was one solution:
Endure it.
Endure until the kids grew up, gradually built their own lives, and he and his wife lived alone again—returning to a two-person world. Then life would beco new again, and the midlife crisis would slowly fade.
By then, they wouldn’t argue over trivial nonsense as easily anymore, because they’d know they were getting old. Arguing did nothing but damage the body—and waste what was becoming an increasingly scarce resource: ti.
With that effort, it would be better to throw a happy party with his wife... or go traveling together.
In the ga, Mike—driven by rage—demolished the tennis coach’s house, then drove off in style.
But imdiately afterward, the real owner ca looking.
The house wasn’t the coach’s at all—it belonged to a gang boss, and it was where the boss kept his mistress.
The boss didn’t care whether the mistress and the coach had sothing going on. What he cared about was his house.
Two and a half million. Mike had to gather the money within a deadline—or the boss would teach him what cruelty really ant.
Mike clearly couldn’t afford to offend soone like that. He could only accept his fate—adding an even more codic layer to his misery.
See? Even a hothead like Mike could still be crushed until he couldn’t breathe by helpless life—so what about him?
The father, that middle-aged man, strongly agreed with Mike’s reaction.
That was the normal reaction for a man.
As for being so hero, saving the family... that was too fantastical.
Still, Mike’s life made the father feel a little envious.
At least Mike still had chances to choose.
This ti, to scrape together the money, Mike had no choice but to return to the old road:
Robbery.
So he contacted an old partner he hadn’t seen in years, had him find manpower, brought Franklin along, and the group began plotting a bank heist.
Robbing a bank in real life was impossible.
But in a ga? You could try it—giving this middle-aged man a sliver of novelty.
And GTA 5’s mission design was exquisite. The whole flow felt like planning a real, carefully organized robbery. He even wondered: if you followed the ga’s steps in reality, could you actually rob a bank?
But he quickly cut the thought off.
Gas and reality were not the sa.
Taking gas as reality wasn’t just "addiction"—it was confusing reality with fantasy. A sane person couldn’t do that.
Even his younger son—who wasn’t even ten—wouldn’t.
That, at least, comforted him. His kids still had basic social logic and common sense.
While experiencing this heist-planning arc, the father felt that long-lost fun again.
It reminded him of the car-mod hobby he’d loved when he was young.
But after growing up and entering a prestigious school, it was impossible for him to beco an obscure chanic. The hobby was shelved completely.
Still, deep down, a part of him had always saved a spot for that kind of joy—he just never had a chance to express it.
Eventually, in the ga, all preparations were complete. The two protagonists and the hired crew moved to execute the robbery.
The whole process took nearly an entire day in-ga. He didn’t even feel ti passing.
For him, the fun was exactly right—everything perfectly balanced, making it impossible to stop.
All he could do was marvel: the people who made gas like this were incredible—like they had human nature in a death grip.
He was now completely hooked on GTA 5.
Even with careful planning, the heist still produced unexpected incidents.
That was where the ga’s climaxes ca from.
After successfully taking the money, the protagonist even left behind a signature catchphrase, then rode off, escaping the city by motorcycle along a planned route, finally shaking pursuit. Then the group split the loot.
Watching the protagonist complete the job, the father felt a powerful sense of reward—
I made big money!
The money might’ve been dirty, but it was exhilarating anyway!
Even though it was only a ga, that thrill—doing sothing bad and escaping punishnt—lingered for a long ti.
He wasn’t a developer. He didn’t know the tricks behind it all. He didn’t know how much effort it took to make players feel that level of stimulation and satisfaction in a single mission.
If he did, he would probably marvel even more at how ga developers’ brains seed alien—wired completely differently from normal people.
How could a normal person co up with such wildly imaginative, brilliant ideas?
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