For Reasons I Still Don’t Understand, It Took Me All Day to Install Cyberpunk 2077 on My PS4 Pro

For its part, Amazon did a bang-up job on getting me Cyberpunk 2077 on launch day. This is my first time pre-ordering a game from the shopping giant, so there was some uncertainty over how punctual their delivery would be. But the morning of December 10, Cyberpunk 2077 was on my doorstep by 10 a.m.

By no means was this on par with the immediacy of simply downloading and preinstalling the digital version, but I fell victim to the allure of a $10 discount and an array of physical-edition bonuses (which have since reminded me why I don’t bother with this detritus normally).

With that early-morning package arrival, I felt that if I got the game installing right away, I would be able to spend a chunk of my afternoon running amok in Night City.

I would soon come to find out, however, that a more insidious journey lied ahead, more nefarious than any drug lord or kingpin I could ever imagine encountering in the streets of Cyberpunk 2077. This culprit has a name, and its name is Error Code CE-30005-8.

Buckle up, buckos, because the yarn I’m about to spin is gonna make you wish you were a machine, so you could be unplugged and be granted swift, sweet relief.

First, the facts of the case, your honor.

Cyberpunk 2077 for PS4 comes with two discs; one is the data disc, and the other the game disc. In order to play the game disc, you need to insert the data disc into a PS4 and allow the system to copy said data to the PS4’s internal hard drive. It sounds easy enough, right?

After following these initial steps, I decided to go about my business while it took the estimated nine hours to install the 45 GB of data. The file transfer settled into a groove, and the projected time remaining slowly shaved off until it was down to just a little over an hour and a half.

However, when I returned about 45 minutes later to check on the status, I found a paused transfer notification due to Error Code CE-30005-8.

That’s odd but not unheard of, nor was it the end of the world. I simply clicked to retry, but in doing so, I was only met again by my good friend Error Code CE-30005-8. A mini meltdown began to brew inside of me. I was able to tamp it down into the bleakest regions of my soul, then I took a deep breath and tried to think rationally. I simple ejected the data disc, re-inserted it, and voila, the file transfer started once again.

It was also at this point that I noticed the infamous day-one patch was also queued up for download. I decided might as well get that started as well since I was being given the option. Clicking on the prompt to start the download, however, did nothing. This led me to the conclusion that I probably need the game installed before I could complete that step.

Or did I?

So another half hour or so goes by, and when I go back to check on the data transfer status, I was met, yet again, with Error Code CE-30005-8. It was at this point that I was seeing red to the point that punching holes in the fabric of spacetime was seeming like a logical response option. And again, I tried to retry the transfer but, you guessed it, Error Code CE-30005-8 showed up to say hello.

So I deleted a couple games, thinking perhaps it was a storage issue. I also googled Error Code CE-30005-8, and the suggested remedy was to rebuild the PS4 database. So I did that. Another 20 minutes crawled by before I could retry data transfer from the beginning. Again.

But this time, the day-one patch also began to download. Needless to say, this was a curious development. But this was also different, which suggested possible progress. Boy, what a dummy was I.

The data transfer would ultimately fail five times. And with each successive failure, I found my interest waning — my interest in Cyberpunk 2077 specifically, but also my general interest in continuing to exist in this farce of a universe.

At this point, it was nearing 10 p.m. A full twelve hours had melted away, much like the consistency of my brain. I found myself hovering over the digital storefront page for Cyberpunk 2077, almost ready to just buy the digital version and return the physical game, bonus crap and all.

At that point, however, something happened. I don’t know if this was something I’d dreamed up in my fevered, irritated, mushed brain, or if this was some sort of divine intervention, but I heard “Eye of the Tiger” begin to play. I knew I had one last round in me.

So I strapped in for what was going to be the fight of my life. I began the data transfer for the sixth and hopefully final time. I knew that no matter the outcome, whether the game install was a success or failure, I wasn’t going to come back from this as the same man that went into it. This journey into the abject depths of hell would surely leave a mark.

And so, there I sat, watching the percentage meter tick up and the time remaining tick down. In so many ways, this measurement of time represented the time I have left in this mortal coil. Much like the denizens of Night City, I too would be the result of body alteration. These are the consequences of being a video game enthusiast of the highest caliber, if not also the lowest moral fiber.

So there I sat, staring at the vibrant electric blue void of my television screen, waiting, waiting, waiting… I was determined to either reclaim my sanity or to burn it all down in a glorious, garish fashion.

Suddenly, with zero fanfare, there was a prompt that the data transfer had been successful, that I was now able to insert the game disc. This prompt seared my retinas, burning its message into my frontal lobe.

Without a moment’s hesitation, I ejected the data disc and inserted the game disc, attempting to ride the wave of momentum that was surely, swiftly carrying me to Valhalla (no not that Valhalla). And just like that, the day-one patch sprang into action, notifying me that it would take another 100-plus minutes to finish.

So again I sat there, eyes blurring from the glow of my overlord, until the patch download completed. And just like that, finally, unceremoniously, the game was ready to play.

It was 2 a.m. at this point, which meant I needed to be up for work in five hours. Although I had won the defining battle in this great war, the final victory could not yet be tasted. I returned to my bed for a short slumber.

And now… Well, I guess we will see what happens now.