"No sweat, no sweat. Keep it chill, hands steady. With a camera in my grip, the world's my playground~"
Right now!
YouTube Live, Jada Brook's stream.
As a streamer who usually grinds League of Legends, Jada was once a die-hard Seraphine main.
But after Seraphine got nerfed into the ground, Jada switched to playing Shaco and never looked back, fully embracing her inner chaos gremlin.
Her go-to catchphrase? "Sorry, not sorry—I'm a total gremlin."
But today!
It looks like this gremlin's about to get out-gremlined by an even wilder one.
Still!
Jada wasn't about to let herself get punked that easily.
After catching her breath in a ventilation shaft, Jada steeled herself, crawling toward the exit while muttering to calm her nerves:
"Alright, chat's asking, 'Jada, how're you so fearless in this game?'"
"Easy—I've got the Serenity Prayer memorized."
"'Stay calm, keep cool, don't lose it. When the going gets tough, I channel my inner superhero. Superhero, superhero, take down the bad vibes…'"
As Jada inched forward, trembling in the vent, her chat exploded with laughter.
"Yo, you're just making up chat comments again, aren't you?"
'LMAO Jada's unhinged'
'Totally not scared (heart rate's only 140, lol)'
"Is that supposed to be the Serenity Prayer?"
'Host's giving chill, quiet, introverted vibes, super shy'
'???'
"Scared? Me? Nah, that scream earlier? Just woke up my neighbor's dog."
'Here comes the best part—gremlin getting owned by a bigger gremlin'
"Old man Gus: 'Sorry, not sorry, I'm the real gremlin.'"
'…'
The chatterbox emerged from the vent, landing lightly in a circular hallway.
It was dead quiet.
Frosted glass lined the inner wall, blurry but showing faint outlines of the hospital lobby below.
On the outer side, a row of doors.
"Alright, chat, new area," Jada said.
After a few steps down the silent hallway, she hit a dead end—a collapsed filing cabinet. Her eyes flicked to a half-open door on her right.
"Library. Gotta detour through here to get past."
With that, Jada raised her DV camera, flipped on night vision, and peeked through the crack in the dark door.
The library was trashed—books scattered everywhere, reeking of blood.
"Damn, that's grim. Good thing this stream's 18+," Jada said, wrinkling her nose at the stench.
"But it's cool. I can handle this kind of gore-fest."
"Worst case? It's just a bloodbath. Way better than the mind-bending creepiness of PT."
"I'm not scared, 'cause—"
"Your girl's a gremlin~"
With that, Jada didn't think twice and shoved the library door open!
But the next second!
CLANG!
A piercing soundtrack blared, and an upside-down corpse dropped right in front of her. A grotesque, dead face stared straight into hers!
Classic door-opening kill! Point-blank!
Here's the kicker!
None of Gus Harper's horror games had ever used a "door-opening kill" before!
So, players worldwide had this idea stuck in their heads: "WindyPeak's horror games don't do door-opening kills."
That's why streamers like Pew, Cody Black, and now Jada could barge through doors without a care!
They thought they had Gus's number.
Big mistake!
Right then!
Jada felt like she'd seen the pearly gates, her usual sweet voice turning into a gravelly screech:
"AAAH! Door-opening kill?! I'm gonna lose it! AAA—"
Thud!
Heart rate spiked off the charts!
Jada got booted from the neural connection!
And she wasn't alone—every player who hit this point got wrecked!
Nobody saw it coming!
In a horror game directed by Gus Harper, a door-opening kill?!
Screams echoed worldwide!
Players lost it in all sorts of ways!
One dude in Atlanta yeeted the lid off his somatosensory cabin, yelling, "Hell no! Hell no! Keep that cursed crap away! Hell no!!!"
A streamer in Seoul scrambled out of her cabin, collapsing in tears: "Oh my god—oh my god, nooo! sobs!!!"
Another streamer popped open his cabin, pale as a ghost, and rage-quit the stream: "Screw this, I'm done, I'm done! My cabin's haunted or something…"
…
"It's clear Gus Harper's stepped up his game."
Meanwhile!
In Tate's Gaming Scoop's virtual meeting room!
Editor-in-chief Lucas Sterling was sipping coffee, mentoring his team one-on-one.
Nice!
Through years of sharp management and riding the wave of the booming somatosensory cabin market, Tate's Gaming Scoop had cemented itself as a top-tier gaming media outlet in the U.S.
Its influence even stretched globally, unmatched in North America.
With that kind of clout, the pressure on Lucas Sterling was no joke.
The global gaming market is massive, with new titles dropping almost daily.
During major events like E3, Gamescom, the Asian Games Summit, or the Game Awards, blockbuster games flood the market.
Lucas can't exactly clone himself to crank out endless reviews and analyses.
Heck, he can barely keep up with playing them all.
So, to tackle this, Tate's Gaming Scoop recently held an internal competition, picking five rookie editors with serious potential for intensive training.
Lucas Sterling himself was leading the charge.
The winner? They'd score the assistant editor-in-chief gig, with all the perks of a deputy editor.
How does Lucas train newbies?
Simple—
Play games.
Play a ton, then play some more!
You've gotta log hours to get the experience needed to break down a game's strengths, weaknesses, innovations, and edge.
But it's not just playing for kicks.
The rookies have to analyze the games themselves, and Lucas steps in to guide them.
Today?
It lined up with the simultaneous launch of Outlast and Silent Hill.
So Lucas set up a hands-on session for the newbies.
The rookies played, and Lucas coached.
Think high school study hall—teacher at the front, students hitting them up with questions.
Right now, in the virtual meeting room, the speaker was rookie editor Emma Lin, who just went full-time earlier this year.
"Gus Harper's evolved?"
Lucas perked up at Emma's take, finding it fresh and intriguing.
As a seasoned editor, he knew a review's hype came not just from expertise but from a unique angle.
Emma's angle was grabbing attention.
Lucas nodded, giving her the floor. "Break it down."
"Alright, Chief," Emma said, steadying herself.
"From what I've played, Outlast is a masterclass in horror game design."
"It's got Gus Harper's signature psychological horror vibe."
"Like, you've got that creepy figure staring at you through the window when you first hit the mountain, the trashed hallway, blood splattered everywhere."
"But now it's mixing in classic horror jumpscares—face-to-face kills, door-opening kills, you name it."
"That combo cranks the terror up to eleven."
"Because playing a horror game is really about facing your fears."
"Fear comes from the unknown, so players instinctively try to figure out the game's scare patterns to feel safer."
"That's why older horror games got phased out—players cracked the jumpscare formula, and once it got predictable, it got boring."
"Gus's psychological horror broke that mold, leaving players nowhere to hide. That's why PT was such a banger."
"But even Gus's mind-bending scares? Hardcore players started catching on."
"Like, 'Oh, psychological horror doesn't do jumpscares.'"
"Players thought they'd cracked Gus's code."
"Wrong move."
"This time, Gus saw it coming and blended psychological dread with jumpscares."
"And boom—"
Emma couldn't help but grin, genuinely impressed by Gus Harper's crafty design:
"Now there's no pattern to predict."
"Every door's a gamble, every light's a risk, every patient wandering the hospital? Total wild card."
"Before you open a door, flip a switch, or get near a patient, you've got no clue what's coming."
"No jumpscare? It's psychological dread."
"No psychological buildup? It's a jumpscare waiting to pounce."
Finally, Emma dropped her verdict:
"No lie—this is the peak of horror games in the last twenty years."
Hell yeah!
Emma's breakdown blew Lucas away!
Seeing through the surface to the core!
For a rookie to dig that deep into a game's design? Impressive.
Don't let Emma's quiet vibe fool you—she's a powerhouse when it's go-time.
But just as Lucas was about to hype her up, another voice piped up in the meeting, sounding skeptical:
"Emma, that take's kinda one-sided. You haven't even touched the competition, and you're calling it the pinnacle?"
The speaker was Max Wheeler, another rookie editor, same age as Emma, fresh off playing Silent Hill.
Clearly, he wasn't buying Emma's glowing review and seemed a bit ticked.
"As reviewers, we can't just throw out big claims like that," Max said, dead serious.
"Sure, Gus Harper's PT made waves, and the scares were top-tier."
"But it was just a demo, like, thirty minutes long."
"Now we're looking at two full games."
"Players hyping Outlast because they're still riding the PT high? I get it."
"But us? Professional reviewers? We can't just fanboy out like that."
Yup.
Max figured Emma's sky-high praise for Outlast came from the same fan filter that had players hyping Gus up.
Max had never bought into Gus Harper's "King of Terror" title.
"Father of second-gen FPS"? Sure, Max could get behind that.
From Left 4 Dead to PUBG to Titanfall and APEX.
Those games were fire, no question—Max would even call Gus the "Godfather of Shooters"!
But "King of Terror"?
A multiplayer ghost-hunting game like Phasmophobia and a half-hour PT demo?
One and a half games, and you're the "King of Horror"?
Max, young and principled, wasn't having it. He chalked it up to Gus's fanbase and media hype.
Now, with Outlast going head-to-head with Silent Hill, and WindyPeak squaring off against Komina, Max wasn't impressed.
By the numbers, Silent Hill had the edge every way you sliced it.
Experience? Komina's dropped five horror games; WindyPeak's got one and a half.
Investment? Silent Hill had a $67 million budget; Outlast? Just $18 million.
Market share? Komina's global reach dwarfed IndieVibe X2 and Polar Bear 3 combined.
"And from what I just played," Max added, "Silent Hill's quality is legit—industrial design, level flow, smoothness, scares, all top-notch."
"As reviewers, we've gotta tune out the noise."
"Focus on the game itself. Quality's the only thing that matters."
Well, damn!
Lucas was quietly stoked, thinking, "Nice one, Max!"
Emma and Max—his two standout rookies.
Emma's got vision and sharp analysis.
Max? Fair, unbiased, no favoritism.
Both had the makings of elite reviewers.
With that, Lucas's mentor mode kicked in, and he waved them on:
"Emma, solid analysis. Max, fair point."
"Here's the plan—swap games."
"Emma, dive into Silent Hill. Max, tackle Outlast."
"I'm waiting for your takes!"