My Cheat Tables Folder [2026]

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.”

It’s a toolbox for breaking the rules—just to remember that rules are optional. 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 . I attach the process

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” . I decide what gravity does

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.

That’s my cheat tables folder. It’s not just memory hacks and value scans.

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.