Downloaded Slice Master after seeing it all over TikTok. Thought it looked silly. Five minutes later, I was hooked. The knife flips, the coins sparkle, and the spikes — oh, the spikes — are relentless. I told myself I’d only play for “a couple of runs.” I played for an hour.

Day 2:
At work, I couldn’t stop thinking about the multiplier at the end of the level. I kept wondering if I could time it better. During lunch, I pulled out my phone. A coworker saw me playing, laughed, and asked for the name of the game. By the end of the afternoon, three of us were comparing scores instead of checking emails.

Day 3:
Disaster. I went for a risky coin grab and hit spikes three times in a row. The frustration is real — but so is the pull to keep trying. I swear the knife mocks me mid-flip.

Day 4:
Victory! Finally landed a huge multiplier. I may have yelled out loud in public, earning a few strange looks on the train. Worth it.

Day 5:
Now I’m chasing skins. Do I need them? No. But do I feel oddly powerful flipping with a golden knife? Absolutely.

Day 6:
Tried to quit. Told myself I’d uninstall the game. Lasted 12 hours. Redownloaded before bed. Immediate regret? None.

Day 7:
At this point, Slice Master isn’t just a game — it’s part of my routine. Morning coffee? Play a run. Waiting for dinner to cook? Play a run. Too tired to read before bed? Play a run. The knife has become my new companion, my greatest enemy, and my most consistent form of entertainment.

Final thought: Slice Master is simple, frustrating, addictive, and hilarious. A week in, I’ve realized something important — the spikes always win, but that doesn’t stop me from trying again.