I’ve been meaning to write about my long, complicated relationship with the Monster Hunter community for a while now—specifically, the parts of it I just can’t seem to fit into.

But first—credentials check. Because let’s be honest, in this fandom, nothing screams “valid opinion” like a long Monster Hunter résumé. The community is packed with folks swinging their hours played like they’re compensating for something.

Anyway, I got started back in 2008 with Monster Hunter Freedom Unite. I was a broke uni student then, and my trusty PSP was pretty much my entire gaming setup. Between 2008 and 2016, I bounced around on laptops, doing whatever I could to emulate the games I couldn’t afford or access otherwise. The frame rates weren’t great, but I was determined to stay in the hunt.

In 2016, I finally upgraded to a PS4, and by 2018, I had both a 3DS and a Switch. That’s when I really dove in—playing World, Generations, and 4U all at once, making up for lost time and loving every second of it.

I even picked up MHXX on Switch, thinking there was no chance we’d get MHGU in the West with World in the spotlight. But hey—Capcom surprised us, and I was more than happy to double-dip!

Fast forward to today—I’ve played nearly every entry in the series (yes, even Frontier). My personal favorites are MHGU, MH4U, World, and now the new kid on the block, Wilds. But really? I love every Monster Hunter game for what it brings to the table.

There’s just something timeless about the thrill of the hunt—the tension, the strategy, the satisfaction of mastering each monster. When I say “Happy Hunting,” I mean it. It’s not a meme, not sarcasm—it’s the spirit of the series, and it still hits just as hard.

I’ve never seen myself as a content creator or streamer. I’m just a player. No brand, no agenda—just someone who’s loved this series for a long, long time.

Back in the day, the older games always opened with those iconic intros—four hunters, working together to take down some towering beast. Even though I played MHFU mostly solo, I always dreamed of that kind of camaraderie. For me, Monster Hunter was never supposed to be a solo experience. It’s about the team, the bond, the shared struggle.

I finally got a taste of that playing MHGU. I started streaming it on Twitch and connected with others who loved it too. While World was shiny and new, GU was what really hooked me. I couldn’t put it down. I made new friends, hunted regularly, and for a while, things were great.

But that high didn’t last forever.

Drama crept in. Backstabbing, ego trips, jealousy between streamers—it all came to light eventually. I saw people making sexist jokes, flexing their DPS like it made them better than everyone, or dropping into streams just to ruin the experience for casual players. It killed a lot of the joy I once had.

By the time Rise launched, I was done streaming MH content altogether. And when I did, it was under the tongue-in-cheek category “Just deal with it.” It became a meme, but also a coping mechanism. I was disillusioned, burned out, and honestly, heartbroken.

I seemed to attract the wrong kinds of players—the min-maxers, the elitists, the “tough love” types who think passive-aggression is mentorship. It wore me down, made me doubt myself, and crushed a lot of the love I had for the game.

Eventually, I walked away. I stopped watching streams, stopped supporting creators with my time or money. It wasn’t some big statement. It was just the healthiest choice I could make.

And not everything was doom and gloom. That time away led me to give Final Fantasy XIV another shot—and it clicked. Hard. The characters, the story, the music—I fell head over heels. I poured over 6,000 hours into it before slowly returning to the world of Monster Hunter.

When I came back, the landscape had changed. Rise and Sunbreak were wrapping up. The old GU streamers had mostly moved on. But a new wave had taken over. Some of my old friends were still around—and I’m grateful for that—but something in the air felt… different.

A lot of the new streamers clearly liked Monster Hunter—some even loved it—but for many, it didn’t feel like the heart of their experience. It was a stepping stone. A tool. The game they thought they could “make it” on.

And sure, you might say, “Well Vlad, everyone on Twitch is trying to make it.” Fair. I’ve been on the platform since it was still Justin.tv—I get the hustle. But here’s the thing: not everyone belongs in front of a camera. And when nobody’s honest about that—when everyone gets cheered on no matter what—it dilutes everything.

Maybe that’s a cultural thing. Maybe it’s just a Balkan perspective. But yeah—we see through it. And it can be hard to stomach.

Which brings us to today. The latest release made one thing crystal clear to me: I’m completely disconnected from what a lot of people want out of this series now.

To me, every Monster Hunter game has value. Some I adore, others I revisit less—but I respect them all. What I see more and more, though, are people obsessed with numbers, min-maxing the joy out of the experience. They want sterile, flat arenas. Monsters that don’t move. No environmental interaction. No vision.

The perfect example? The MHXX flat plane mod:

That’s not Monster Hunter. That’s a hollow shell. It’s not “quality of life”—it’s a betrayal of what the series has always stood for.

Want proof? Go back and watch the old intro cinematics. Watch the MH4 announcement trailer. Tell me Wilds isn’t exactly what that game dreamed of being.

Watch on YouTube

Old dogs can bark all they want. If you don’t like the devs’ direction anymore, that’s fine. Just say, “This isn’t for me.” But don’t become bitter. Don’t tear things down just because you’re no longer the target audience. That doesn’t make you a critic—it makes you petty.

As for me? I’ll keep playing every entry—old or new, weird or mainstream. Because the thrill of the hunt is still alive. And I’ll keep chasing it for as long as I can.

To the few fellow hunters who still feel the same—who understand what this series really means—I hope we keep crossing paths.

See you out there, on the hunt. And of course—Happy Hunting!