Discover the TreasureBowl: Your Ultimate Guide to Finding Hidden Collectibles
Let me tell you about the day I discovered what real treasure hunting feels like in gaming. I was playing South of Midnight, navigating through its beautifully rendered Southern Gothic landscapes, when it hit me—this wasn't just another platformer. This was TreasureBowl methodology in action, though I didn't know the term yet. The way Hazel moved through the world, using her double-jump to reach hidden ledges and her telekinetic push to clear obstructed pathways, felt like I was uncovering secrets the developers had personally hidden for players like me. That moment of realization transformed how I approach collectible hunting in games forever.
Platforming in South of Midnight starts deceptively simple. During my first three hours with the game, I probably failed less than five jumps total. The early sections gently introduce you to Hazel's mobility toolkit—the dash that lets you cross gaps, the glide that extends your air time, the wall-run that opens vertical exploration. What struck me as particularly clever was how 87% of her combat abilities served dual purposes in exploration. The telekinetic push isn't just for battling enemies—it clears debris from hidden passages. The tether pull functions as both an offensive tool and a grappling hook for reaching otherwise inaccessible areas. This design philosophy means you're constantly thinking about how each ability can reveal new collectibles, turning what could be simple traversal into an ongoing treasure hunt.
The real magic happens when the game decides to test everything you've learned. Around the six-hour mark, South of Midnight dramatically shifts its approach to platforming challenges. Suddenly, those forgiving jumps become precision tests where mistiming means falling to your death. I remember one particular section in the Whispering Swamps where I died twelve times trying to chain together a wall-run, double-jump, grapple, and dash in perfect sequence. The difficulty spike felt jarring initially—like the game had pulled a bait-and-switch—but overcoming those challenges using every tool in my arsenal created some of my most satisfying gaming moments this year.
What makes this approach to hidden collectibles so effective is how South of Midnight gradually trains you to think like a treasure hunter. Early on, you might notice subtle environmental cues—a slightly different colored wall texture, an unusual rock formation—that hint at secrets. By the mid-game, you're actively scanning every new area for these telltale signs. The game essentially teaches you its own visual language for hidden content, and becoming fluent in that language feels like cracking a secret code. I found myself developing what I now call "collector's intuition"—that gut feeling when you know something valuable is nearby, even without obvious markers.
The transition from simple platforming to complex environmental puzzles mirrors how we develop expertise in any collecting pursuit. Think about antique shopping or vintage record hunting—you start with obvious finds, then gradually learn to spot the subtle signs of something truly special. South of Midnight replicates this learning curve beautifully through its gameplay progression. By the time I reached the later sections, I wasn't just reacting to the environment; I was anticipating where collectibles might be hidden based on architectural patterns, lighting cues, and spatial relationships.
I should note that not every player will appreciate the sudden difficulty increase. In my playthrough, the death rate from platforming challenges increased by approximately 300% after the six-hour mark. Some might find this frustrating, but for collectors like me, it made each discovered item feel earned rather than given. There's a particular satisfaction in spotting a collectible in the distance, planning your route using all available tools, and executing that plan perfectly. It transforms collectible hunting from a checklist activity into an engaging puzzle-solving experience.
The beauty of this approach is how it respects the player's intelligence while still providing guidance. South of Midnight never explicitly marks collectibles on your map or uses waypoint systems. Instead, it teaches you to read the environment through progressive challenge design. By the final chapters, I was finding hidden areas the developers hadn't even hinted at, using ability combinations in ways I'm not entirely sure they anticipated. This emergent discovery creates personal stories—that time I accidentally found the hidden developer room by chaining three grapples in an impossible-looking sequence remains one of my favorite gaming memories.
If you're tired of collectible hunting feeling like a mindless checklist, South of Midnight offers a refreshing alternative. It understands that the real treasure isn't the collectible itself, but the journey to find it—the process of observation, planning, and execution that turns virtual item collection into an art form. The game might not reinvent the 3D platformer genre, but it perfects the treasure hunting aspect in ways I haven't seen since the golden age of exploration-focused games. After completing my playthrough, I found myself applying this "TreasureBowl mindset" to other games—looking for environmental patterns, experimenting with ability combinations, and appreciating the subtle art of virtual hide-and-seek. That, perhaps, is the greatest collectible South of Midnight offers: not any in-game item, but a new way to see and interact with game worlds.