I will make this clear from the start: I do not like Rockstar Games.

I’ve talked before on social media about how I believe their layoffs are a net negative for the industry. The company has faced serious criticism over its approach to unionisation and workers’ rights, and I find something almost hypocritical about franchises like Grand Theft Auto and Red Dead Redemption — games that revel in ideas of freedom, rebellion and sticking it to authority — coming from a company facing those accusations.

And if that wasn’t enough, I’ll say it outright: I think Rockstar is anti-consumer too.

Their move away from physical games, charging physical-media prices for digital products we don’t truly own, and the increasingly normalised expectation that consumers will pay premium prices for AAA games that may still launch needing patches absolutely infuriates me.

It may seem like a small issue, but believe it or not, ownership — and the loss of it — can have genuine psychological significance for humans. I’ve already taken a deeper look at that subject in my video below.

I haven’t played a Rockstar game since GTA V, and I don’t intend to play another unless the company makes some serious changes.

And, readers, that’s a personal choice. I’m not here to preach or impose my beliefs on you.

I’m just here to say Rockstar can go fuck themselves.

Enter CyberLeek

Which is why, when I woke up this morning and saw that someone had apparently got their hands on a treasure trove of Grand Theft Auto VI material, part of me was pumped.

A group calling itself CyberLeek has released footage apparently showing Jason playing basketball alongside combat, driving, vehicle interactions and other open-world gameplay.

The UI seemingly reveals mechanics including a Focus stat, stamina, character progression, a possible karma/honour-style system and even the potential return of the six-star wanted level.

There are also images purportedly showing a much more complete map of Leonida, including multiple counties, islands, roads and rail infrastructure.

There is an important caveat here: some of this footage reportedly comes from builds more than a year old. Games change enormously during development, so none of these mechanics should currently be treated as confirmed features of the final game.

But that raises a much more interesting question.

Why is CyberLeek doing this?

Meet Our Would-Be Robin Hoods

Like any good group of anarchists — although I’m not actually sure they’re anarchists, but we’ll get to that later…

Yeah, I mostly used “anarchists” because it sounded cool.

CyberLeek dropped a manifesto, and in a nutshell our potential protagonists have a few demands.

No digital pre-orders.

Their argument is actually pretty compelling. Pre-orders made sense when games were physical products with limited quantities. Your local GAME might only receive 50 copies, so reserving one guaranteed that you could play on release day.

But what’s the scarcity with a digital download?

Why should a publisher receive your money weeks or months before providing a product when there is effectively an unlimited supply of that product?

No “fake DLC.”

CyberLeek specifically attacks the practice of charging customers for single-player content that is already contained within a game and merely needs to be unlocked.

A great example for me was the original Dragon Age: Origins back in 2009 and its downloadable companion Shale.

Shale’s content was included with the game, but access was tied to a download code supplied with new copies. It was also a clever way of discouraging used-game sales: buy the game second-hand without an unused code and you might have to purchase the content separately.

BioWare and EA weren’t inventing DLC, but they were certainly giving us an early taste of where the industry was heading.

Offline access to single-player games.

If a publisher shuts down its servers, CyberLeek argues that customers should retain access to the single-player content they purchased.

And you know what?

Absolutely.

This isn’t even some fringe argument anymore. European consumer-rights campaigns and lawmakers are actively wrestling with questions surrounding game preservation, server shutdowns and what exactly consumers are buying when they purchase digital products.

A company deciding that supporting a product is no longer financially worthwhile shouldn’t automatically mean that the people who paid for it lose access forever.

And you know what, folks?

I’m here for this.

Fuck, I’m so down for this.

These are things gamers have been angry about for years.

There’s just one little problem.

Our Robin Hood Is Selling Crypto

CyberLeek is promoting a Solana-based token called $CYBERLEEK.

And this isn’t simply some random cryptocurrency created by opportunists hoping to make money from the attention surrounding the leaks.

CyberLeek itself promotes the token.

Its own website contains a TOKEN INFO section and claims money raised through it will fund infrastructure, security and some currently mysterious future project.

Maybe they’re telling the truth.

Maybe this really is a group of digital activists who need money to continue their operations. Servers cost money. Infrastructure costs money. Security costs money.

But we don’t know.

And that’s important.

Because attaching a speculative financial asset to a publicity campaign creates an obvious conflict.

CyberLeek leaks material from perhaps the most anticipated video game on Earth.

Millions of people suddenly hear the name CyberLeek.

CyberLeek promotes $CYBERLEEK.

Interest in $CYBERLEEK potentially increases.

That doesn’t prove this is a scam.

But it gives us a very good reason to keep our eyebrows firmly raised.

I’m sympathetic to their stated cause. If they genuinely intend to keep fighting against anti-consumer practices, then yes, doing that costs money. But “innocent until proven guilty” doesn’t mean “trust everyone until they screw you.”So for now I’m putting CyberLeek firmly into the category of:

I like what you’re saying. Now prove you actually mean it.

Another Brick in the Wall

Maybe I’m being a tad overdramatic, folks, but as I write this article one quote keeps coming to mind:

“The people are weary of being oppressed, persecuted, exploited to the maximum.”

— Che Guevara, Cuba: Historical Exception or Vanguard in the Anticolonial Struggle?, 1961

Obviously, Che Guevara wasn’t talking about Grand Theft Auto costing £100.

And losing access to a video game is not comparable to the political oppression Guevara was describing.

But the underlying warning about allowing exploitation to become normalised is worth remembering.

Because this isn’t really about one game.

It’s about another small concession we’ve made to an industry that increasingly asks consumers to accept that buying something doesn’t necessarily mean owning it.

No physical copy.

Always-online requirements.

Servers that can disappear.

Content locked behind additional payments.

Games removed from storefronts.

Digital libraries dependent upon companies continuing to honour licences.

Individually, each change can seem insignificant.

Together, they’re another brick in the wall.

And the problem with walls is that they’re much easier to dismantle when they’re still small.

So, is CyberLeek a modern digital Robin Hood, stealing from a multibillion-dollar corporation to fight for consumers?

Or are they opportunists who have discovered that righteous anger is an excellent way to advertise a memecoin?

Right now, I don’t know.

And perhaps that’s the most interesting part of this entire story.

Because I desperately want CyberLeek’s message to be genuine.

But if you’re going to claim you’re fighting for consumers while simultaneously asking those consumers to buy your cryptocurrency?

You’d better be ready to prove it.