Defeating the Red Oni took Bart a full four hours.
He'd never spent that long on any single boss in any ga before—and this boss was only the beginning. Even tougher foes lay ahead.
Yet when the Red Oni finally fell, the long-suppressed rush of emotion was indescribable.
Pure exhilaration!
He could only call it that: sheer exhilaration. An enemy he'd once thought impossible to beat was at last vanquished. All those struggles hadn't been in vain.
...
"Onward, onward!"
Bart felt his whole body ablaze with excitent—he couldn't wait to take on the next boss. "Heh, if I crushed the Red Oni so easily, the next bosses can't be that bad..."
Ten minutes later, he stared in disbelief at the giant "DEATH" on the screen—and the na tagged in the corner: The Oni of the Prison Gate.
He felt his faith in life itself waver. All his carefully honed strategies for the Red Oni were useless here—this was a brand-new foe. Bart tried again and again, and every ti ended in death.
"Screw this!"
This ti he couldn't hold back; he flung the controller across the room. At that mont, he was tempted to refund the ga again.
But then he rembered the pure thrill of beating the Red Oni—and that feeling drew him back. He forced himself to take a break for the day. Normally he'd binge a new release, but Sekiro had a way of snapping him out of that mindset.
Bored, he pulled up the forums and video sites. After a while he noticed fewer "rage refund" threads about Sekiro, and more and more players were sharing actual guides—and the overall tone was no longer so angry.
He also saw that the once-pinned "I can't beat Sekiro!" rant had disappeared, replaced by a new post that kept bumping to the top:
"Official strear live now—witness the miracle!"
In it, fans shared real-ti updates of the official strear's progress. According to Davidson, today's run was smoother than ever—and he was already over seventy percent through.
Seeing that post made Bart want to jump back into the stream—but he hesitated, wanting to preserve his own experience without spoilers. He pictured Davidson's effortless victory over Gyoubu Masataka Oniwa and steeled himself to try a few more attempts.
Then he spotted another thread:
"Check out this stream—I'm about to die of laughter watching this guy!"
"Die of laughter?"
Bart frowned. How could you "die" and "laugh" at once? Well... maybe I should watch.
He clicked the link, which took him to Facebook's live stream. A guy around his age was playing Sekiro—and right now he was facing Bart's old nightmare: the Red Oni.
Bart knew that boss inside out—could anticipate every move. But the strear sitting at the controller was stone-faced, while the chat blew up with mockery, "LOL" spam, and unsolicited tips.
The stream's title read:"Pro Gar Attempts Sekiro Speedrun in One Day."
"Pro gar?" Bart rolled his eyes. "I guess they have e-sports for this now..." But despite the lofty title, the player's performance was pure cody: sudden, unpredictable deaths every few seconds, each more absurd than the last. And with each wipeout, his expression grew darker—though he tried his best to hide it for the stream.
"Wow, this guy's trash. He calls himself a pro?""Nah, he won world championships—just in racing gas. Makes sense he'd suck at Sekiro.""True. Outside of official demos, few people ever really 'get' this ga."
The chat's viciousness only quieted the strear further. Bart watched, amused but also oddly triumphant: if even a "pro" could flounder so badly, then with enough practice, he could outshine them too.
An idea struck him: he should record his own Red Oni victory and share it online. His achievent shouldn't be seen only by himself. Plenty of players had stuck with the ga past the first week of release—and Sekiro videos on Facebook were skyrocketing.
It seed Sekiro's popularity was staging a fierce rebound a week after launch...
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