In the ever-evolving world of gaming, change is the only constant. New technologies, shifting player expectations, and emerging market trends have significantly transformed the products and services we know as video games since their debut on the consumer landscape back in the 1970s.

Games will never be the same as they were back then—but today, I want to share a more personal perspective on this evolution.

As a QA Tester actively contributing to the development and refinement of games, my relationship with gaming has transformed in ways I never would have anticipated.

Over 25 years ago, I had my first gaming experience. I wasn't playing, though—I was spectating while an older (now ancient) brother of mine controlled a bipedal elderly Pirate Cat, slashing away at Pirate Dogs, gathering fragments of an old map, all in search of a mystical amulet. I am of course talking about the 1997 cult classic game Claw. His short quotes like “En Garde!”, “Eat lead!”, “Landlubber”, and “Magic Claw!” are ingrained in my memory. It is no surprise that a 5-year-old kid was instantly hooked.

A couple months later my brother played the Diablo-like 2D fantasy RPG called Dink Smallwood, which to this day is still my favorite game, having played it every year since, now with about 200+ mods of course.

Adolescent me, teeming with fantastical ideas, had dreams of developing my own games one day. Sadly, adulthood ends most childish dreams, and my academics steered me toward a different path. After years of hurdles during which games were a major comfort, and a couple of unhappy work experiences in different industries, I finally joined PTW in 2023 as a Trainee Test Engineer on the Quality Assurance team.

My first day at the office felt like I was dropped into a cyber cafe with hundreds of PCs and consoles, probably thousands.

A week into work, I was added as the 5th member to the project High on Life, the sensational FPS, RPG comedy game released in early 2023, which was ported to PlayStation in July, and finally launched its DLC High on Knife in October. My months on that project taught me a lot about game testing, and I'm proud to have been part of it.

But game testing isn't all hunky dory: it can be tedious, even annoying at times, and requires excruciating attention to detail. Most importantly, it's futile without patience. Imagine playing (testing) Super Mario’s level 1, a thousand times in a row! It is hilarious at times, with many wonky bugs being found and flagged in turn. Bug fixes range from changes in code to the removal of entire features; it’s truly a collaborative process between the QA testers and dev teams throughout.

All the while, I was gaming whenever I had time at home, on my humble laptop. I could see myself slowly starting to test them—the games which were already released! I wasn't a consumer anymore, since every game became a puzzle in which I had to find exploits or break entirely.

Instead of finishing a quest, I started exploring the boundaries of any level, checked whether I could fall off the world, whether I could glitch a vendor into giving me infinite money, whether I could overpower a weapon to have one-hit kills—whether I could simply, absolutely, undeniably ruin every game I played. I wondered if the people who aren't involved directly in the development of a game, and those in more managerial, administrative, or supportive roles, are spared from these obsessive tendencies.

Once I realized this, I felt disheartened knowing I could never experience games the same way again, before starting my career as a QA Tester.

As a result, I took a break from gaming.

For months I couldn't play, so I streamed other people's gameplays instead. If I couldn't resist testing a game instead of playing it, why not simply watch other people play the game, like an actual gamer would?

After having watched playthroughs of several titles, I started watching Hellblade: Senua's Sacrifice, a game that was on my wish list. An hour into the video, I simply could not watch any further. The game was so immersive and mesmerizing, I knew I just had to play it, by any means necessary. Having reminded me of the Plague Tale series, a personal favorite, simply watching someone else play wasn't going to cut it.

Hence, the return to gaming with Hellblade Part 1. A 10-hour run at most, a journey through the mind of someone enduring psychosis, an eye-opening experience. This passion project of the developer/publisher Ninja Theory became the cure for my disease.

The QA tester side of me did try to meddle with the game, of course. But the newfound appreciation I had helped me enjoy my playthrough as well.

My thoughts delved deep into the process that went behind making the game, the Game Development Life Cycle (GDLC) so to speak: the ideas conceived, then brought to life by the story writers. The developers who build massive virtual worlds, the character models, the animation, the art production, the color palettes used. The voice actors who breathe life and emotion to the characters on screen, sometimes involving motion capture. The adorable fictional pets or animal companions, who become a memorable part of the whole experience, resulting in a lasting effect on the player.

My contemplation over all these factors, these giant proverbial cogs in the machine, shrunk the fiends inside, leaving them mighty no more.

And of course, a crucial companion in the process is QA: my chosen career path!

Earlier, I made a reference about playing each level of Super Mario a thousand times. It occurred to me that this isn't a requirement during the GDLC—it's a necessity. The QA team behind Hellblade were very much like me and my colleagues. We tested and helped polish High on Life and its DLC, and I was so proud to enjoy the game after it released. We've further worked on racing games, pet clinic simulators, 2D Street Fighter-esque games, fantasy RPG games which are in early access, and so much more.

Not every player who enjoys a well-polished game, free from any major bugs, understands the hours and struggles that went into it before release. The parties involved are several, but the end product is singular: a game!

For most people, games are a hobby, a means of entertainment, a time killer, or an escape from reality—the isekai they've always fantasized about. Even though most people in this line of work don’t speak of it, I’m sure this journey of mine isn’t unique.

For me, games will never be the same. They’re an experience now elevated more than ever!