Let me tell you something about gaming strategies that most people won't admit - sometimes the best way to maximize your earnings is to intentionally avoid certain upgrades. I learned this the hard way while playing through Outlaws, and it completely changed how I approach games with progression systems. When I first encountered those heavily armored enemies in the later stages, I struggled for hours trying to figure out creative ways to get past them. The game presents you with these tense situations where both enemies are heavies immune to your standard stealth takedowns and stun blasts, forcing you to think outside the box. I remember one particular encounter where I spent nearly 45 minutes experimenting with different approaches before discovering I could use environmental elements to create distractions.
The turning point came when I unlocked that optional upgrade allowing silent takedowns on high-endurance targets. At first, it felt amazing - I was breezing through encounters that had previously challenged me. But within about two hours of gameplay, I realized I'd made a huge mistake. The satisfaction of creatively solving those difficult stealth scenarios vanished completely. Those encounters that had once required careful planning and multiple attempts suddenly became trivial. I went from earning substantial in-game rewards through clever problem-solving to just mechanically repeating the same simple takedown sequence. My earnings per hour actually dropped by approximately 30% because I was no longer engaging with the game's deeper mechanics.
What's fascinating is how this mirrors real strategic thinking in competitive environments. The most obvious path to power isn't always the most profitable in the long run. In Outlaws, the game's design subtly encourages you to think the upgrade path is linear - that more powerful abilities equal better performance. But the reality I discovered was quite different. By avoiding that particular upgrade on subsequent playthroughs, I found my overall earnings increased significantly. I was forced to engage more deeply with the game's systems, discovering hidden mechanics and alternative approaches that actually yielded higher rewards. My completion times were slightly longer, maybe 15-20% on average, but my total currency accumulation was nearly 40% higher because I was accessing bonus rewards tied to creative solutions.
The psychology behind this is crucial for anyone looking to maximize their performance in any system. When you remove the challenge, you also remove the engagement that drives deeper understanding. I noticed that during my first playthrough with the upgrade, I was barely paying attention during stealth sections. My mind would wander, I'd make careless mistakes in other parts of the game, and I missed numerous opportunities for additional earnings. Without the upgrade, I was fully present, constantly analyzing patterns and developing strategies that transferred to other aspects of the game. This heightened awareness helped me identify earning opportunities I'd completely overlooked before.
There's a balance to be struck between power and challenge that directly impacts your bottom line. Based on my tracking across multiple playthroughs, the sweet spot seems to be maintaining about 70-80% of maximum possible power. This leaves just enough challenge to keep you engaged and innovative without becoming frustrating. In practical terms, this meant I'd acquire most upgrades but intentionally skip ones that trivialized core gameplay loops. The result was consistently higher earnings and, surprisingly, more enjoyment. I stopped viewing upgrades as simple power increases and started seeing them as strategic choices that could either enhance or diminish my overall experience and performance.
This approach has applications far beyond gaming. In business or investing, the equivalent would be avoiding tools or strategies that simplify processes to the point where you stop paying attention to important details. The most successful people I've observed maintain systems that keep them engaged with the fundamentals while using tools to handle genuine inefficiencies. They understand that some friction is valuable - it keeps you sharp, innovative, and aware of opportunities that others miss because they've automated or simplified themselves into complacency.
Looking back, I wish I had trusted my instincts during that first playthrough. There was something special about those challenging stealth encounters that I shouldn't have been so quick to eliminate. The game was actually more rewarding, both in terms of enjoyment and literal earnings, when it forced me to be creative. Now I approach progression systems with a much more critical eye, always asking whether an upgrade will genuinely enhance my experience or just remove what makes the challenge meaningful. Sometimes the real secret to maximizing your earnings isn't about acquiring every possible advantage - it's about knowing which advantages to avoid.




