Chapter 1063: Still Suffering Just the Same
“I don’t really see much of a plot here. Didn’t they say this game’s story is a bit more complete than Dark Souls?”
“Nothing much seems to be happening. The plot feels optional.”
“The orphan is Kos’s son? Who’s Kos? I don’t get what the story is even about.”
Old Qin muttered to himself while playing with the saw cleaver.
The barrage viewers couldn’t take it anymore, and comments flooded the screen.
“qgn: I don’t see any plot here.”
“That’s just how this rage-inducing streamer is.”
“Suffering from a lack of education. If you don’t read the item descriptions, of course there’s no plot…”
After playing with the saw cleaver for a while, Old Qin switched back to his usual Holy Blade. After all, that was the only weapon a reckless Sun Knight could truly love.
As for the cane… were you a cane user?
Old Qin approached Gehrman: “I’ll choose ‘Submit Your Life.’ I’ll play through New Game Plus anyway.”
The barrage instantly filled with “???”.
“Shameful!”
“So real. That’s just how this rage-inducing streamer is.”
“He literally got all three umbilical cords and still refuses to fight the two bosses.”
Under the moonlight, Gehrman swung his scythe and slashed down fiercely.
Old Qin stared blankly.
“Emmmm, what does this ending mean? What’s it even about? Where did I wake up from?”
“That’s it? Yharnam Sunrise? What does that mean?”
“If I’ve woken up, how does New Game Plus even continue?”
In complete confusion, Old Qin fired off a series of ultimate questions.
Then, amid a barrage of “Shameful!” mockery, he silently went to search for “Bloodborne plot explanation.”
Old Qin was utterly baffled, and after the credits rolled, the game automatically started New Game Plus.
“Alright, everyone, don’t worry. First playthrough, I’ll just mess around. Second playthrough, I’ll get familiar. Third playthrough, I’ll start understanding the plot. Fourth playthrough, I’ll get comfortable. Fifth playthrough, I’ll get even more comfortable…”
“Yeah, by the sixth or seventh playthrough, I can start recording some content, hehehe.”
Old Qin said this while hacking werewolves with the Holy Blade.
The barrage expressed disbelief.
“Do you even have the face to say that? When are you going to fill in the hole for Dark Sword 21, which you update once a year?”
“The guy above is asking the obvious. You know it’s yearly, so why ask when it’ll update? Of course, it’ll be this time next year!”
“I think Mr. Qin is definitely going to slack off. A Bloodborne video is never coming out. He’ll just have to rely on live-stream recordings to get by.”
“How about we bet fifty cents on how long until Ah Qin releases a Bloodborne video commentary? I’ll start: I bet three months.”
“Heh, too optimistic. Six months!”
“I’ll guess one year!”
“One year is too much. By then, this game will almost be forgotten!”
But none of the barrage viewers ever expected that they were still too optimistic.
What they didn’t know was that Mr. Qin’s “Bloodborne commentary video” would still be nowhere to be seen three years later.
Maybe Ah Qin had already forgotten it. Only the non-existent Dark Sword 21 would occasionally appear in his dreams, reminding him of his former identity as the God of Missing Content.
That day, the God of Missing Content once again entered the state of shameful slacking.
…
…
Although plot analysis posts about Bloodborne were popping up all over the internet, most streamers were still wandering in the world of suffering.
After all, experts were among the masses. Those plot enthusiasts and theory-crafters fully embraced the spirit of hard work and suffering. After blazing through the first playthrough, they racked their brains to decode Bloodborne’s story.
But for streamers—especially those who hadn’t been baptized by Dark Souls—this game was a pure journey of masochism.
Forget about following the plot; first, worry about how to survive…
On the Moyu streaming platform, streamers broadcasting Bloodborne were wailing in unison.
“Huh? Why is there a hole here? Is this a teleport? Holy crap! How did I fly into the sky? Damn, I’m dead!”
“Heh, three villagers with a dog. Three men and a dog? Are you guys… mmm, sorry! Sorry, I’ll leave, okay!”
“This giant spider is so stupid. ‘Rom, the Vacuous Spider’? Is this official trolling? Wow, it doesn’t even fight back. This is so satisfying, hehehe… Wait, how did I get one-shot?!”
“Wow, what kind of monster is this? A centaur? Oh no, it’s a horse-headed man. Horse-headed horse… Well, it looks pretty dumb. Holy crap, why is its damage so high? Finally, almost dead… Oh man, it just pulled out a giant sword?!”
“Such a cute lady! Is this the legendary Lady Maria? Oh, she looks just like that cute doll girl. Already dead? Should I take advantage of the moment… If I sneak a touch, no one will notice, right? Touch… Ow, holy crap, how did this menstrual sword kill me in three hits?!”
“Who’s this guy now? Orphan of Kos? You… your damage is seriously orphan-level!”
“This well can actually be climbed down. Holy crap, this giant fishman was ambushing me? Holy crap, why is it grabbing me? It’s frantically chewing on my head! Aaaaaah!”
The barrage viewers were watching from a cinematic perspective, seeing every move the streamers made.
But the streamers were in first-person view. Just keeping their sanity from completely draining while playing this game was already an incredible feat…
Especially those suffocating grab kills—like the giant fishmen in the Fishing Hamlet, who would lunge forward, grab the player, and shove their head into their mouth to gnaw frantically;
Or the fishmen wielding cleavers, who would tackle the player to the ground and hack at their head with both hands, letting the player experience a first-person view of being a certain beheaded protagonist;
Or Amygdala, who would grab the player, squeeze them until they were drenched in blood, and pull them close to stare into the true visage of a Great One;
And in the brain fluid experiment area, those headless patients would drop from the ceiling and land right on the player’s head…
Clearly, for streamers, they were soul-transmigrating into the Hunter, embarking on a real Cthulhu-esque journey.
Maybe beating the game wasn’t important. What mattered was how to keep their sanity from completely draining, without leaving any lasting psychological damage for the rest of their lives…
Fortunately, black technology could solve most problems. Otherwise, games like Bloodborne would have to say goodbye to players forever.