Putting myself into the shoes of SEGA and the rankers.

1. From SEGA’s Perspective: Why Create Near-Impossible Challenges?

1.1 To Maintain Prestige and Longevity

A rhythm game’s difficulty ceiling partially determines its lives and dies. By setting nearly impossible goals (even temporarily), SEGA keeps the game’s upper limit in motion; allowing the best players have something to grind toward, and with that grind comes content longevity, forum activity, livestreams, and traction.

1.2 the Unwritten Contract

SEGA knows the community is hungry for challenges, especially the rankers.

The unspoken loop is:

• SEGA releases something absurdly difficult.
• Rankers tries their best.
• Community watches in awe.
• The game’s mythos grows.

The moment they stop, the game’s heartbeat slows.

2. From the Rankers’ Perspective: Why Keep Grinding?

2.1 To Chase Mastery

These rankers are not motivated by “fun” in the casual sense. Their motivation is mastery - to be so in tune with a chart that it’s no longer a test, but a performance. Perfecting a song becomes like a musician mastering a concerto - it’s more on personal completeness than the applause.

2.2 To Be Seen, and to Belong

Top plays get noticed, archived, praised. There’s camaraderie (even shallower), competition, legacy. The game becomes a canvas for reputation, and that reputation means a lot, if not everything, for the rankers.

2.3 It’s Who They Are Now

After reaching the pinnacles, many rankers internalize that identity. And so they continue, not for the scores or anything, but because “what else would they do”? Stopping feels like stepping off a stage in the middle of a performance, and there’s no encore if you walk away too early.

3. Are rankers happy with who they’ve become?

3.1 Identity as a Double-Edged Sword

Being a top ranker becomes an identity, forged through countless hours of muscle memory and obsession. Letting go of that, even if it no longer brings joy, isn’t easy.

For many, being among “the best” is a source of validation. It might be the one area in life where they feel in control, respected, admired. That’s not something people abandon lightly. Even if it’s exhausting, even if it costs their time, their physical health, their relationships.

But if I offer them a clean trade - “you will switch identity with someone else that will mirror your identity and continue your legacy exactly as you would," I believe many would take it. Not essentially to disappear, but to have the option to rest.

To have the option to sleep in on update day.
To have the option to walk by a cab and not compelled to play.
To have the option to listen to a song without mapping the chart in their mind.
To have the option to give up when a new patch threatens to dethrone them. –>

3.2 The Burden of Being Watched

There are always expectations and pressure that comes from being known as the top. People watch. People expect. People assume you’re always grinding, always excited. But top rankers are human too. They burn out. They question why. They look at their old scores and wonder if those were the peak.

They are happy because they’ve successfully merged their love for the game with the challenge, and wouldn’t give it up for anything. But they may feel trapped at the same time. They have climbed the ladder so high up that they can no longer justify climbing down. They might envy the joy of casuals who still play for fun.

Many watchers come for entertainment, not genuine support.