The fourth and final volume in Nick’s epic story of seduction around the world. Advanced daygame and dating secrets are woven into a one-year narrative of traveling through the Former Soviet Union to pick-up and sleep with the hottest young women around.


Players are a self-indulgent lot. The very nature of dedicating oneself to the pursuit of women, of reaching that mythical end state of “good with women” – what I call the Player’s Journey – requires you to be self-absorbed, proactive, and to put your interests front and centre on an ongoing basis. Thete’6 simply no other way. The moment you start pandering to a crowd, concerning yourself with what others think of you, and subordinating yourself to someone else’s ideals …. well, that’s trying to swim wild seas in concrete boots. Ultimately, as players we are stealing someone else’s lunch money. So don’t worry too much what society thinks of you.

There are only so many hot girls in this world, and most of them are consciously and scrupulously limiting the number of men they’ ll let inside them. The demand for quality pussy far exceeds its supply. Like a poker gatne hustler, we are in a zero-sum game with other men. W rit large over society, that means for every time we win, they lose.

It is said there is no honour among thieves. As you’ve seen from my story, there is definitely honour among players – but it’s a fragile alliance. We are drawn together; first to tap each other’s accumulated wisdom, then later as peers to keep us sane as we chart our way through an insane’s an uneasy co-existence between ruthless egoists. Those who aren’t deeply selfish find themselves value-tapped, sucked dry, and cast away. Like the fabled Illuminati, this cadre of adventuring players is not a force for good in the world; our pr inciples cannot be universalised for all men. Ever y chief needs Indians. (Most PUA coaches need the other type of Indians, too, but that’s a different story altogether.)

“Do unto others as you would have them do unto you” is, in the terms of moral philosophy, a universal code. If everyone follows it then we make the world a better place. It’s the bedrock of civilisation. In contrast, the player’s code works only if the number of wolves is limited and the sheep are unaware. If ever yone is to covet his neighbour’s ox then chaos quickly ensues.

Players are coveting a whole slew of their neighbour’s oxen. Sleeping with women in industrial quantities is hugely disruptive to the social order. After all, there are only so many notches to go around. I win, you lose. The losers get angry.

So, self-absorption is a fundamental characteristic of the modern player. It makes us maddening to be around for long periods. All that charisma, all of the social skills, and all of the beaming happy vibe makes us attractive for a while, but then the killer instinct kicks in and somebody’s getting their lunch money stolen. Again.

Regular readers of mine will be quite aware that I’ m as selfabsorbed as can be. Fortunately, you always retain the right to close these books any time it becomes too wearing on you. (My friends aren’t quite so lucky as to have an “off switch” they can flip.) This memoir gives you a window into the Player’s Journey, a rare peek behind the curtain. I plan the full quadrilogy to be a story of elaborate scope and detail, of a kind that has probably not been seen since Casanova retired to his monastery and put quill to paper (though I don’t flatter myself that I am his equal in achievement).

You see what I did there, comparing myself to Casanova? That’s what players do. We blow smoke up every body’s ass. Our relationship to humility is complex; we must fake it with girls to induce them into emotional intimacy, and we must genuinely humble ourselves in private to work on our inner game issues. However, if we spend too much time feeling humble, we blunt the killer instinct that powers us through the endless sea of hot young women.

Your reward for enduring my self-absorption is a chance to live and breath the Player’s Journey in exquisite detail. It lets you know how the life is lived and what you can expect if you take on the challenge. I hope the trade off will be worth it. And if not…. well, I’ve probably already got all of your money that I wanted.

Depending upon when you read this volume, it’s either the culmination of a long trek or (if you’re reading this close to its initial publication) there’s still a three-year blind spot were volumes two and three should be. Let me explain why I published these out of sequence.

I’ve previously blogged only a couple of the stories that make up this volume. Over ninety percent are recorded here for the first time. At the end of 20 14 I was sitting in Prague feeling very pleased with myself (jump to chapter thirty-nine if you wish to bask in that smugness). I’d had a great year, I’d just published volume one of the memoir, and I had Daygame Overkill to work on.

I felt at the absolute peak of my game. I was on top of the mountain. I thought to myself “I want to capture this feeling on paper. This represents the culmination of my whole journey, to get to this moment.” If I waited the two or three years required to fit in volumes two and three in chronological order, I’d lose that. I’d also forget the stories when they were no longer fresh in my mind. So I whipped out my dictaphone and started telling the stories for the record. It captures not just my mood and the story details, but it also allowed me to conceptualise my daygame theory as it stood at that point in time.

Conceptually, volume four represents the period in my journey where I finally became truly comfortable with self-identifying as a “player”, the calendar year of 20 14 – my sixth year in the game. The long arduous process of climbing the mountain was behind me. I felt there was nothing more I needed to learn or to achieve to be able to legitimately describe myself as a “player”. The girls of 20 12 had satisfied my hunger for quality, and 20 13 made good on the quantity. There was no longer any competitive can-1/can’t-I suspense. I’d had the numbers, the quality, and the personal growth to call the journey a success. Though the jour ney never truly ends and there’s always room for improvement, I had reached my goal. I hit one hundred notches midway through the year and the relief was tangible.

Nobody can take your notches away. Scoring one hundred hot young women is a nice round number, a milestone that unequivocally denotes “player”. I’d reached my destination. I told the hundredth girl about her special place on my conveyor belt and she wore it like a badge of honour. Then she shuffled off to the bathroom to wipe my cum off her face.

Predictably, the moment I arrived at the final destination was also the moment I realised it was not as advertised, but we’ll get to that in the following chapters. So, I beg you’ll block out a few hours in your schedule, sink into a comfortable chair and follow me on the last leg of this- my Player’s Journey.

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