No scripts inside. Just a note I wrote to myself: “You don’t need this anymore. The factory must grow. But not because resources are infinite—because you are.” I have no memory of writing that. But every time I see it, I smile.
When life feels rigid—deadlines, bills, expectations—I open this folder. I pick a game. I load Cheat Engine. I attach the process. And for a few hours, I’m not a player. I’m a programmer of realities. I decide what gravity does. I decide if gold matters. I decide if the final boss waits patiently while I tick a checkbox labeled “Health > 99999.” my cheat tables folder
It’s not about winning. It’s about asking, “What happens if…?” and getting an instant answer. At the very bottom, there’s a file named Factorio_EndlessInventory_v3.CT . No scripts inside
Every cheat table inside tells a story. Not just about the game, but about me . I tell myself I’m organized. The folder has subfolders: Action , RPG , Simulation , Indie . But then there’s “To_Sort_2020” (still unsorted), “Weird_Stuff” , and “DO_NOT_DELETE_Broken_But_Sentimental” . But not because resources are infinite—because you are
In that last one lives a table for Dark Souls: Prepare to Die Edition . The script is a mess—half the addresses don't work anymore. But I keep it because it was the first table where I didn’t just check “Infinite HP.” I found the pointer chain myself. Four levels deep. Manually. Felt like I’d hacked the Pentagon. There’s a table for Stardew Valley with only one active script: “Instant Catch (Fish).” I swore I’d only use it to finish that one fishing bundle. I ended up catching every legendary fish in ten minutes. I still feel guilty.
Here’s a short, engaging piece of content titled , written in a reflective, slightly nostalgic style. My Cheat Tables Folder It sits there on my second drive, nestled between “Old_University_Projects” and “Rom_ISOs.” The folder is simply named CTs , no icon, no fancy colors. To anyone else, it’s a digital junk drawer full of cryptic .CT files and random screenshots.