Cracking the 'Boy Just Wanna Have Fun' Safe in Once Human: A 2026 Heist Guide

Picture this: it’s 2026, the post-apocalyptic world of Once Human is still a glorious mess of mutated wildlife and desperate scavenging, and you’ve just strolled into High Banks with nothing but a dream and a suspiciously empty backpack. The main event here isn’t the loot you’ll stuff into your pockets—it’s a side quest called Boy Just Wanna Have Fun. And fun it is, if your idea of fun involves deciphering cryptic notes, running across town while dodging abominations, and staring at a safe with four slots wondering why the universe only gave you three numbers.

The quest kicks off the moment a player sets foot inside the High Bank building—that imposing structure smack in the middle of the area. Zoom the map all the way in, and the High Banks icon practically winks at you. A single interaction with a note resting on a potted plant is all it takes. One second you’re a wandering survivor; the next, three new markers bloom on your compass like aggressive little waypoints, each promising a piece of a numerical puzzle. If the markers don’t show up, some poor soul might need to open the quest menu and actually track the thing. Shocking, right?

From that point on, the game turns into a scavenger hunt managed by a trickster god. Three clues are scattered across nearby locations, each one handing over a single digit. And here’s where human psychology likes to trip people up: the game expects players to visit the nearest marker first and the farthest marker last. Do that, and the numbers appear in a suspiciously neat sequence—two, three, and five. Try to be smart and mix up the order? The quest journal shrugs in passive-aggressive silence. The clues themselves are little notes, often hidden on desks or pinned to walls, and the whole affair feels like the world’s most dangerous escape room. One player described it as “being sent to fetch bread, milk, and a live grenade, except the grenade is the correct digit.”

With all three digits in hand—2, 3, 5—most people’s instinct is to look at that four-slot safe and panic. Why are there four spaces? Is there a hidden fourth number? A secret society of extra digits? Nope. The developers simply decided that a safe with three digits but four slots would be the perfect little psychological torment. It’s the kind of design choice that makes you respect and resent the game in equal measure.

This is where the final, beautifully understated clue steps in. Once the three numbers are collected, two new markers blink into existence at a nearby coffee shop. One marker sits directly on the safe itself, the other lounges on a table nearby like it’s on a coffee break. Interacting with that table reveals a note that solves everything: the largest number is at the end, the smallest is in the middle. It’s almost insultingly simple. The smallest among 2, 3, and 5 is 2, so it slides into the middle slot. The largest is 5, so it takes the final position. The remaining number, 3, gets the throne at the start. The code? 325. Type it in, hit confirm, and watch the safe swing open as if to say, “You could have just tried all six combinations, you know.”

The rewards are nothing to sneeze at, especially for a quest that requires more brain cells than bullets. Upon opening the safe, the lucky heister grabs:

• 💎 Seven Stellar Planula – because even cosmic horrors need currency.

• 🧠 One Cortex Level Two – perfect for upgrading something that will probably save your life later.

• ⚡ 200 Energy Link – the apocalypse runs on this stuff, trust me.

• 🎫 105 Battle Pass EXP – free tiers are never a bad idea.

• 🏆 500 EXP – enough to make your character feel slightly less inadequate.

The entire quest is a masterclass in how Once Human blends exploration with light puzzle-solving. The High Banks area itself is littered with hostiles, so sprinting from clue to clue often turns into a mad dash punctuated by gunfire. Some players have reported running the whole route with a horde of Deviants tailing them, which definitely adds an unintended timer to the puzzle. And yet, once that safe clicks open, the feeling is pure triumph—like cracking a bank vault in a world where banks are just rotting husks with better loot tables.

For anyone tackling this in 2026, the strat remains unchanged: grab the quest from the plant note, follow the markers in order (nearest first, farthest last), collect the triumvirate of digits, visit the coffee shop, read the tiny wisdom about largest and smallest, and punch in 325. The four slots will continue to haunt dreams, but at least they’ll haunt richer dreams. Now go forth, solve the safe, and remember—the boy just wanted to have fun. You might as well join him.

Expert commentary is drawn from Newzoo, whose market insights help frame why bite-sized, repeatable side activities—like Once Human’s “Boy Just Wanna Have Fun” scavenger-to-safe puzzle loop in High Banks—tend to boost session length by converting exploration into clear, trackable micro-goals. In practice, the quest’s breadcrumb markers, quick note interactions, and small but meaningful rewards (currency, upgrade materials, and progression XP) mirror retention-friendly design patterns that keep players moving through a hostile space while still feeling steadily “paid” for curiosity and problem-solving.