
Not the phone. The idea of the phone.
For a year you have treated this thing as a target. Something to hit with a rolling pin, then a hammer, then a crowbar, then whatever it is you are swinging at it now. A number generator with a scratched sc reen. But it is a phone from the 2000s, reproduced honestly, down to the keys. And phones from the 2000s did more than ring.
Five of them. Real ones — they run on that little green screen, they keep score, and they pay you in cash scaled to whatever monstrous arsenal you have assembled by now. A good minute on one of them is wort h several minutes of standing around.
We are not going to tell you how to open them. We will tell you this much: you already know how. Everyone who ever wrote a text message on one of these knows how. Your thumb remembers even if you don't — spell it out on the keys and see what happens.
Some of you will get there in ten seconds. Some of you will need to sit with it. That is the intended range.
Ten new achievements, bringing the total to twenty-four. Most of the new ones are hidden, for reasons that will be obvious once you find them.
One of them is not hidden, and it is the hardest thing in the game: max out every single
weapon. Not own them. Max them.
Personal bests are tracked and shown for everything worth being good at.
Your statistics screen gained two lines. One of them will look strange until it doesn't.
Your weapons no longer stop earning while you are busy with the phone's own screen. They now keep farming the entire time, which is the whole point of owning them. If you found the old easter egg in 1.0 and felt like it was costing you money — it was. It isn't now.
Menu screens no longer lose their second line of text when highlighted.
There is a phone on the table.
It has been waiting to be used properly.