The story of how I became a gaming addict during my college entrance exam period and ruined my life

This happened 15 years ago.

During my final year of high school, with college entrance exams looming and everyone around me studying desperately, I became a gaming addict.

It all started in April 2009, when I, then a high school senior, happened to pick up the Wii version of "Monster Hunter G (hereinafter referred to as MHG)."

Monster Hunter is a game where the player becomes a hunter and uses various weapons such as great swords, hammers, lances, and bowguns to hunt giant monsters.

The basic loop involves going on a quest, carving materials from the defeated monster, using those materials to craft new weapons and armor to strengthen your stats, taking on more difficult quests, carving materials from the defeated monster, and so on...

While this is the basic cycle, the amount of quests is enormous, and this loop is practically infinite.

Furthermore, cooperation with allies is essential in online quests, and the sense of accomplishment from working as a team to take down a monster is addictive.

Even with players whose faces and voices you don't know, if you challenge quests together several times and achieve your goals despite the hardships, a bond naturally forms, and your circle of friends expands as you say things like, "Let's play together again tomorrow."

Eventually, my motivation shifted to "playing the game to meet my friends," and I sank deeper and deeper into the swamp.

My life began to fall apart.

At my peak, I would log in every weekday at 6:00 PM. Soon after, my friends would gather, and we would become obsessed with hunting as if possessed, continuing until we were exhausted and disbanded around 2:00 or 3:00 AM. It became a routine that could rival that of a Kasumigaseki bureaucrat dealing with the Diet—the very definition of a grueling schedule.

I would then go to school sleep-deprived, taking naps during class to prepare for the battles that would start in the evening.
There was no time for me to be studying for entrance exams.

Most of my friends were working adults, but I wonder if they were okay with their jobs...

On weekends it was even worse; I would wake up in the afternoon, get ready, and log in immediately.
I would then go on a 15-hour streak, with no time to spare for things like eating.

I lost 5kg.
Even now, when people tell me they want to lose weight, I tell them, 'Strength training, mountain climbing, and online gaming will definitely get you results.'

I would spend two hours straight just dodging the attacks of a specific monster, thoroughly analyzing the behavioral patterns of every single monster.

My fingertips became razor-sharp, reaching a level where my knuckles would react reflexively before I could even think.

By mastering it to that extent, I gradually became famous in a narrow world where only about 10,000 people played even during peak hours.

My player name was often exposed on 2ch, with people saying, 'There's a hardcore gamer who is insanely strong.'

Fighting against the unreasonable

Online games back then didn't have the kind of careful balance adjustments that allow beginners to enjoy the game alongside advanced players; it was a world where skill and time spent were everything.

Because of this, newcomers couldn't enter the existing communities of veterans, eventually becoming 'strays' and naturally being weeded out.

If you didn't have weapons or armor of a certain strength, other players would shun you and refuse to go on quests with you.
However, there was a dilemma: the materials needed to craft strong equipment could only be obtained by clearing difficult quests.

I felt frustrated by the survival-of-the-fittest structure where those who had started earlier, who held sway and enjoyed playing the more interesting quests, would lecture and exclude beginners who had gathered the courage to ask for help.

Fortunately, I had made a name for myself as a hardcore gamer who had mastered MHG, so I was able to put those arrogant people in their place and support those taking their first steps into a new world.

I taught beginners the tricks of the lance—a weapon that is the strongest if mastered, despite its tricky controls—as well as the etiquette of online gaming, such as what kind of comments or behavior would be well-received or frowned upon. I also helped them gather materials by going on high-difficulty quests with them and connected them to communities where people of similar levels gathered.

I was incredibly thanked.

Eventually, my reputation as a hardcore gamer grew, and it was even said that the world wouldn't function without me.

At school, I was like air—I had no friends and didn't say a word.
For someone like me, the online world of MHG was the first time in my life I felt that my existence was needed and that I was useful to the world.

Seeing a player who was once a toddler grow into a full-fledged hunter and set off on their journey gave me hope for life.

And so, into legend.

As for the all-important exam preparation, I really didn't do any at all.

I was in such a sorry state that I played games until the day before (or, to be precise, the day of) the National Center Test and the secondary exams, taking only a short nap before heading off to take them.

Even so, I managed to get into a local national university (I didn't even take any backup private university exams because I wanted to save time for gaming).

Paper tests are just like games after all; you set a goal, analyze the patterns and trends, quickly find a strategy, and specialize in countermeasures.

Not long after I became a university student, a trend of moving to a new Monster Hunter title emerged, and the number of MHG players gradually dwindled.

I had also started mountain climbing at university, so I thought it was about time. To mark the end of my time as a gamer, I announced my retirement.

It was during the recession following the Lehman Shock. Since I hadn't revealed that I was a student, I seemed to be thought of as a
total NEET, so when I announced my retirement and said, 'I've decided to attend XX University,' it apparently caused quite a stir in the 2ch community.

Thus, while praying for the continued well-being of everyone I had interacted with in their new endeavors, I quit gaming cold turkey.

If you dedicate yourself to something and contribute to others, you can even affirm a past spent as an addict.

Before I knew it, my playtime had exceeded 2,000 hours in my third year of high school.
Converted, that means I had been playing games non-stop for three months.

I might have been the high school student who played games the most in Japan at the time.

I do think that if I had spent that time studying, I could have gone to a better university.
Depending on how you look at it, my life did go off the rails.

However, I have no regrets.

In a sense, in exchange for a vast amount of time and academic credentials, I was able to find meaning in life and a social mission.

Since then, I have come to believe that whatever it is, if you feel 'this is it!', you should give it your all.

If there is something you can say you have done thoroughly, it will lead to self-confidence, eventually save someone, and may even help you find a reason to live.

No, rather, I now think that becoming an addict was an unavoidable path to reach that state of mind.