2026 Special - Ghost Sweeper Mikami

If there is one thing you can count on in this miserable hellscape, it's Natsume. Their level of consistency is honestly absurd, like they made some deal with a demonic being to attain ultra gamedev powers. Today, I'd like to draw your attention towards one of the many licensed products that turned out quite nicely because of them. Back in September 1993, less than six months after the debut of the anime, Bandai's Ghost Sweeper Mikami: Joreishi wa Nice Body hit the shelves. The story involves an exorcist named Reiko Mikami. She runs an agency that solves various occult-related matters throughout Japan. One day, Reiko wins a strange statue from a raffle. There's a rumor going around that once the seven mystical gems are placed on the statue, it'll grant any wish its owner desires. Predictably, these gems are in the hands of restless spirits, and they won't give them up without a fight. Or maybe I should just say that you get to be a smokin' hot redhead in a miniskirt who slices up ghosts with a lightsaber. Choose whichever synopsis works for you. 

Point is, what we have here is an action-platformer for the Super Famicom with the usual menagerie of hazards, power-ups, and end-bosses. Most importantly though, it's a Natsume game, so you're guaranteed a pretty fun time. Starting with the controls, there's almost nothing to discuss. I guess the word I'm looking for is automatic. Picture a machine that places caps on bottles, hundreds of thousands of them every hour without a single mishap. It's almost frustratingly perfect for a sicko critic like yours truly. The dev-team could've given Reiko a jump that doesn't allow any midair control, or an attack that has too many recovery frames, anything that'd make me feel superior to a 32-year-old video game. Sadly, it's just not happening. The instant control is handed to you is the instant you become a full-fledged exorcist who has mastered the ancient arts of both jumping and attacking.

The first episode introduces newcomers to everything that makes Reiko tick. On the surface, this game seems pretty simple, but once you start digging, you'll discover... not a whole lot really. Now there are a few pointers worth keeping in mind. Reiko's blade can be swung horizontally or vertically. The vertical slash has slightly less reach but covers a wider arc and ties into the game's other mechanic. Floating platforms are placed throughout most of the stages. Vertically slashing them causes Reiko to grab hold of them. She can then swing herself on top of the platform with a bodacious flash kick. I appreciate the added flexibility this mechanic brings to the level-design. Instead of clambering up unnatural staircases, our extraordinary exorcist reaches higher ground with style. Oh, and before I forget, hitting projectiles with the saber will send them back the way they came. Take advantage of it when you can.

Each subsequent episode features what may as well be the action-platformer's "greatest hits". Ghost Sweeper Mikami gets the obligatory water stage out of the way early in episode 2. Rush dauntlessly through the hostile currents while smacking haunted fish across the gills. Next up is the auto-scroller, where a handheld-sized Reiko rides a kitty across the roof-tops, swatting away everything that gets in her face. No joke, this might be one of the most tolerable auto-scrollers I've ever come across. The cat moves with Reiko, ensuring that she'll never inadvertently jump to her demise. I might even go as far to say that this is an example of a good vehicle-section. Sheesh! That's almost as unbelievable as a good billionaire! Next is the forest, which features plenty of branch-hopping shenanigans. A praiseworthy aspect of this game is that every episode has its own array of ghouls and obstacles to deal with. At no point does the adventure ever get repetitive. 

Episode 5 has Natsume flying dangerously close to the sun, perhaps literally. Reiko grabs a broom and takes to the skies. What is this? Cotton 100%? Nah, it's more like Cotton 10%. While this episode resembles a shmup stage, the exorcist sticks with blade swinging instead of spell flinging. More noticeably, the broom she's riding has a lot of inertia. I mean, it's not even close to "the game is ruined!" bad, but I have to question the decision-making process here. Best advice I can offer is to play defensively and don't try to slash everything onscreen. It's not like there's a hi-score to challenge or anything of that sort. The following episode is much more restrained, with a battle through a construction-site and plenty of conveyor-belt action. After that, the restraints snap into little pieces as Reiko enters a truly bizarre world. Here, the gravity switches between normal and almost nonexistent. Ms. Mikami can also summon platforms to assist her traversal. It's a surprising take on what is basically the last stage, and also kind-of neat. Just... be extra careful around the bottomless pits. 

Besides a latter half that gets a little bit crazy, Natsume designed Joreishi wa Nice Body to appeal to a wide audience. In other words: this is not a hard game. A typical playthrough runs south of an hour, with unlimited continues and passwords ensuring very little progress is lost. I'll say that the biggest challenges tend to be the 3rd, 5th, and 7th bosses. Reaching them with a less-than-full health meter could lead to problems. The 7th boss in particular seems to have a knack for cornering and bullying the heroine, so be wary of that. There are a couple of other power-ups like saber upgrades and talismans, but don't attempt to build strategies around them. Having an upgraded saber capable of flinging projectiles is nice, but it's lost as soon as Reiko takes damage. Talismans and their screen-clearing effects should be saved for the auto-scrollers. 

So, yeah, this is a good game. It would've been considered a perfect rental if it had ever reached the West. I wish the adventure was a bit lengthier and had taken more risks, but what's here is enough for an amusing time. Honestly, Natsume has a track record that should've put them shoulder-to-shoulder with the likes of Capcom and Konami. Even with what could've been a throwaway anime tie-in, they made sure it'd play as well as any of the big action games of the era. Ghost Sweeper Mikami: Joreishi wa Nice Body is one heck of an effort that more people should check out.

2026 Special - Arzette: The Jewel of Faramore

If you've ever been intrigued by Zelda: Wand of Gamelon or Link: Faces of Evil, but don't want to commit to playing what's generally considered to be a pair of excruciating experiences, then there are a couple of alternatives. Remastered editions were put out back in 2020. I've heard they aren't perfect, and might've introduced issues that weren't in the originals, but are still several times more playable. Naturally, the other option is the subject of today's look. Released in 2024, Arzette: The Jewel of Faramore is a love letter to the CDI duology, using many of its same mechanics and features to craft a fun little adventure. I must point out however that there is an insidious edge to it. The deeper you dive through its many layers, the closer you get towards an unflinchingly accurate portrayal of the infamous games that kicked this whole saga off. Eventually, thoughts of "That was great, but I need MORE!" will start creeping in. Swear on my everything, if I ever make it to the third or fourth playthrough of Arzette, not even a week later I'd be challenging both Gamelon and Evil in their original un-remastered forms.

After running through a tutorial that covers all of the basics, you're thrown into a world of mystery and danger. The goal is simple: Stop Daimur once and for all. Achieving that goal is - in traditional adventure game fashion - anything but straightforward. After some time spent in the nearest forest hopping across branches and slashing goons galore, Arzette will light the first beacon. Lit beacons unlock new locations to explore, and that's great. However, you the player will have something else occupying your thoughts: that candle placed just out of the heroine's reach. Candles are the "keys" needed to reach the guardians of the shattered jewel needed to stop Daimur, and they're often hidden or require some sort of ability to obtain. 

Cleverly, this game uses the starting area to feed its players all of the information needed to progress. In the same forest is a wolfman, who'd like to own a home in the nearby town. Pay its mayor a visit and convince him to hand over a deed. Chat up the locals while you're there and you'll get clued in on some favors they need. Rub their backs, and they'll rub your back in return, simple as. Upon returning to the world map, you're bound to notice the exclamation point resting above the forest. It's an indicator that flat out states "Hey problem solver! There's a problem you can solve here!" Besides the UI providing a gentle nudge, this is exactly how the CDI games functioned. One of the biggest issues with them was that several locations were accessible from the start, which was simply overwhelming for new players.

After all this traipsing about the forest, I'm going to guess that combat has already become second-nature to you. Arzette: The Jewel of Faramore plays most of its cards early by introducing almost every type of monster in the starting areas. This will no doubt be a source of disappointment for those expecting surprises in the future, and to an extent I agree. The lack of enemy variety is punctuated by their almost one-dimensional behavior. They move from left to right or right to left and will sometimes take a swing at any princess who gets in their face. Everything else either sits still and tosses projectiles or attempts an aerial assault. Baddies eventually get the bright idea to throw projectiles and move (but never at the same time). By that point though, you've acquired a shield that's immensely easy to use, rendering their efforts pretty ineffective.

Several enemies from the mid-point onwards will be protected by an evil aura. In a subtle nod to Link: Faces of Evil, you'll need a magical weapon capable of firing red (and eventually blue) projectiles to break through that aura. Actually, that isn't 100% accurate. In the CDi game, Link had to hoard snowballs and fireballs to use against specific foes. This system achieves a similar effect while tossing aside the mind-melting inanity. Believe me when I say that I don't want this review to boil down to "What if somebody removed all of the sucky parts from those Legend of CDi games." but it's like trying to dodge a freight train that's spitting DaiOuJou amounts of bullets. 

With that in mind, I have to point out that while Arzette: The Jewel of Faramore knows where its bread is buttered, there is a heart to it, elevating the game to be more than a mere in-joke. Its characters, even when they're being a collection of a quirks, are endearing. Everything is treated with an understated reverence. Rather than make fun of the duology that inspired it, this game chooses a path of respect and love. It pays tribute while avoiding the petty insults. In the end, a video game ending up good is a miracle in itself. Grand ideas and sound concepts are crushed by the realities of development. If whatever remains is actually enjoyable and gets across its themes, then that is something worth celebrating. Arzette gets that down to the letter with this charming tribute.

For some players, defeating Daimur is just the beginning, as there are a handful of unlockable difficulties to conquer. Hero mode does what it says on the tin. Enemies have more health and hit harder. Their numbers have also increased. Death is a more common occurrence, especially early on, but nothing to fret over. Classic mode is where things get extra spicy. Rather than getting unlimited chances to get through an area, Arzette now has a limited stock of continues. Presumably, she gets kicked back to the world map once they're exhausted. I say presumably, because this is the point where I had to take a step back. I'm already drowning in games as it is. Anyway, Classic mode also makes it so that you can't access the menu unless the heroine is ducking. That's cute.

You can also choose to liven up future playthroughs further with mods. The two most notable are a randomizer, which functions exactly as you'd imagine. It rearranges all items and NPCs to create a newish adventure. The other is called Farcette. It's a "Youtube poop" mod. No, I am not explaining what a Youtube poop is, especially in a review of a game that pays tribute to the CDI classics that basically invented the term. Point is, if you want your second playthrough to have more absurd cutscenes, then this mod is well worth it. It's pretty damn hilarious at times.

Action-adventure fans should definitely give this lovely throwback a go. Its seamless controls and easy-to-grasp mechanics make for a very relaxing quest. The soundtrack gets *damn good*, and the visuals are never without charm. Oh, and of course all the cutscenes (both original and modded) are a treat to watch. Fair warning though, the urge to try the CDI originals will no doubt take hold once you've completed this quest. Who knows? Maybe they're actually not that bad...

2026 Special - Valis 3 (Genesis)

Today I'm looking at reason #1,748 why Castlevania is one of the most important video games ever made. Its fans, no doubt inspired by the peak they had just experienced, would incorporate elements from the whip-slinging classic into their own games. More specifically, I'm looking at Valis 3, the Dracula's Curse of the series. It's the first to introduce a character-switching mechanic, allowing series regular Yuko to team up with newfound friend Cham and magical sister Valna. This heroic trio must face a new threat. With his home world facing imminent destruction, Glames sets his sights on invading the worlds of Vecanti and Earth. Battle the forces of darkness while sliding in-between spiked ceilings and bottomless pits; it's another day in the life of the fantasm soldier. 

While I don't want to dwell on all of the ways in which this game is reminiscent of Castlevania, it does help to set the scene. Besides the character-switching, which I might add functions similarly in that all three ladies share the same health meter, players will find wands capable of performing MP-draining spell-attacks. Enemies near precarious ledges are a common occurrence, so don't act surprised if and when they shove the heroines into a gaping maw of oblivion. You'll never find a turkey hidden in a wall, but you will find restorative hearts hidden in the air. That's... okay that's a stretch. Sorry! 

Looking beyond surface similarities, this game also understands the importance of having movement that's methodical, but without being too rigid. Your means of avoiding danger are split between a high jump and a fast slide. Learning both moves as well as the basics of positioning and prediction will get you far. Weapons can be powered up three times and are at their best when performing calm measured strikes instead of frenzied assaults. Also, I guess if I'm going in-depth, then I'll point out to not get to too attached to the wands. Unlike Valis, which had an immensely effective spell for boss-fights, these substandard weapons just won't cut it. Get used to practicing Yuko's sword and Cham's whip, because they're the only tools that matter when fighting Glames and his cronies.

The quest starts in basic action-platformer fashion, with enemies to slash and pits to jump over. Besides the mid-point, which serves more of a narrative purpose, every stage is more complex than the last. "More complex" can mean a lot of things, and Valis 3 kind-of does them all. Shortly after getting a new and spiffy set of bikini armor, Yuko and her crew end up in a mini-labyrinth. There are multiple routes, but as long as you're always heading right, you'll eventually end up at the boss. This is followed by the requisite ice stage. It's not too hard to avoid slipping off of ledges, but a multitude of flying enemies and moving platforms make everything complicated. By the way, you're not getting past this level if you haven't mastered the slide. There are some stunts to perform, like sliding under a spiked ceiling to land on a moving platform that's floating over a pit. Mess up and one of the ladies is eating spikes and/or falling to their doom.

As much as I'd like to claim that this game was influenced by Mega Man 3 and its slide-related chicanery, the fact is that this released in Japan weeks earlier. Furthermore, my willingness to make such a claim shows my inability to recognize that Valis 3's compelling mechanics are wholly unique and not merely borrowed ideas from games that were popular at the time. Maybe this is a lesson that I'll actually take with me into future reviews... or not. I've never been much good at this whole learning business. Point is, this game deserves some major kudos for having a tough yet memorable ice stage. It utilizes all of the expected hazards in a way that fits the series.

Allow me to go a bit further by saying that the level-design is pretty great. Each stage has its own set of monsters to content with, all with abilities that the player must respect if they're to reach the end. I'd say the biggest difference is that monsters can actually respawn, making them a notable threat throughout the entirety of the adventure. Flying creatures are a particularly common problem. They're easily swatted away, but their tendency to show up during the worst possible times is part of what makes the stages fun... or at least engaging. The final stage featuring both flying eyeballs that home in on the heroine as well as homing fireball-spitting creatures is deliciously cruel, yet not in a way that's insurmountably frustrating. Healing items being less common and at times well-hidden is also an appreciated touch. Each stage feels like a series of trials instead of just a path to the next boss. 

While I sort-of miss the almost-broken weapons from the previous Valis instalment, the choice to limit Yuko's sword attacks to a basic wave projectile was the right one. Every press of the attack button is a conscious decision. The projectile only travels as far as the sword has charged, so constant button presses produce waves that hardly move. It's a combat mechanic that's easy to understand and creates an unexpectedly immersive rhythm. Since repeat button-presses can no longer solve every problem, players develop more of an awareness of what's around them. Time is spent actually learning a monster's capabilities and how to avoid them. By adhering to its rules, the player essentially becoming a part of the world. Yeah, I suppose it only makes sense that having multiple solutions to a problem instead of just one makes a game much more enjoyable.

While Cham is very effective at tearing through bosses, I don't want to discount the value that Valna brings to the trio. Her shots fly ahead and above, covering two of the most common angles of attack. Her freeze spell is also effective on most goons as well as the single boss that she has to battle on her own. Just don't make the mistake I did by having her face any of the other bosses. Valna's low attack power becomes all-too noticeable when fights drag on a couple minutes longer than they should. Cham on the other hand is so good with that whip I almost wish I could have her take on the final boss instead of Yuko. I know it's narratively and thematically important, but I'm trying to win here!

In spite of the somewhat iffy character balance, boss battles are an across-the-board improvement over the previous games I've covered. Their patterns are easy to read and not so easy to dodge. The fifth boss with his almost shmup levels of projectile spam is a personal favorite. Weaving in-between all of the tiny shredding orbs is made easy thanks to the solid hitboxes. Ashura, the following boss, is also quite the enjoyable challenge. Staying close and slicing them to pieces with Cham's whip is really satisfying.

Of course, I have to discuss the final boss, because he's a bit of a nightmare. The first form is a nothing bout, no big deal. However, once he starts floating and the universe begins spinning, that's when the shit hits the fan. This is one of those battles of attrition that annoy the heck out of me. I'm reminded of the - kinda horeshit IMO - final boss of Ys 2. There has to be a method buried in the madness but landing hits without also taking damage is brutal to pull off consistently. I don't want to attribute my victories over him to luck, but it does feel like I occasionally stumble into a good pattern, land a bunch of uncontested hits, and that's enough to eke out a win. Still, I consider this to be a solid final boss battle. What makes it work is that in all my years of playing the game, I never achieved a decisive victory. Yuko never survived with most or even half of her health remaining. The close wins are always the sweetest. Maybe I should apply the same thought-process to the end-boss of Ys 2... Nah. Screw that teleporting piece of trash.

Valis 3 gets a solid recommendation. It was an enjoyable rental back when I was younger and still holds up today...

...Hm. Well, my brain just called it quits for the day, so I guess this review is going without a proper conclusion. Until next time!

Nintendo Game Boy look - Operation C

Earlier on social media, I made a post stating that outside of like 3 or 4 games, everything under the Contra banner has been good. That's when it hit me: The realization that Operation C on the Game Boy might actually be five flavors of chewed ass. Fearing the worst, I fired up on my nonexistent handheld gaming hardware and braced for suck- nah, it's totally solid. It's difficult for me to even pretend to underestimate 90s Konami. They had a string of hits long enough to connect Earth and Mars like some galaxy-spanning bolas. This Run & Gun looks, plays, and sounds good. While there are only five stages, they deliver enough action to keep players motivated, as well as enough surprises to keep them intrigued.

I don't talk a lot about Contra on this blog, and that's partly because there's not enough to complain about. No really, imagine a few game developers got together and perfected a genre that until a minute ago basically didn't exist. Everything from the movement to aiming/firing is immaculately executed. It's so seamless that five seconds of playtime is enough to convince the player that they're ready for a war. Basically, these are some of the strongest fundamentals anyone could ever hope for. It's "simply" a matter of adapting them to fit a variety of action-packed scenarios. 

The controls in Operation C are correct. They are as accurate as they need to be, while accounting for the limitations of the Game Boy's screen-size. Same goes for the level-design. Both enemies and obstacles are where they need to be in relation to the player, ensuring that they're not blindsided by poor placement or a spawn from out of nowhere. You're never going to be hurting for time to react to danger, though I'd never discount the effectiveness of a little memorization. Knowing where to stand can be a difference-maker in multiple situations. 

In keeping with tradition, floating pods contain weapons that'll make gunning down alien scum easier. The hunter-shot in particular is nice because it's a homing weapon with hardly a downside. It might be weaker than the spread and flame-shots, but the fact that 99% of its shots actually hit what they're supposed to is great for players who'd rather focus on dodging attacks. Of course, weapons are lost on hit, but the default machine-gun can still get the job done. Extra lives are awarded for reaching certain score thresholds, and there's nothing stopping the player from farming respawning enemies to get an extra one or two for the battles ahead. I don't believe it's necessary, especially for series veterans. They'll shoot through this in 30 minutes or less.

Operation C is exactly what it needs to be. Easy to pick-up, fun to play, and features a hint of bite. Its long-term value isn't what I'd consider amazing, but it also doesn't negatively affect the game much. There's practically zero fat. Each encounter feels unique. Check it out.

2026 Special - Valis (Sega Genesis)

I can't claim any knowledge of the anime subgenre known as isekai, but that doesn't mean a piece of my soul didn't vanish into nothingness the one time I tried a Sword Art Online game for the Playstation Vita. The concept of a virtual reality MMO that kills its players is what sold me. I didn't expect to be introduced to the main character's twenty-dozen girlfriends, wives, husbands, adopted children, etc. not even ten minutes into the actual game. Sure, it's human nature to make the best of a bad situation, but becoming "Mr. Two Swords: The most important and desirable man" just sounds like escapist drek. Yeah, I'm being unfair to a series that may or may not deserve it. These are the avenues I have to take in order to avoid being trapped with the dreaded blinking cursor on an empty page for hours.

For real though, I've always imagined isekai as being transported to some distant world that's completely divorced from reality. Picture a mundane life turned upside down and inside out until you're gazillions of light years away in another dimension conversing with aliens in a language that can only be spoken by folding your tongue 13 times. I guess what I'm trying to say here is that I want escapist drek that appeals to me. If it turned out that the afterlife was actually a planet out in the middle of nowhere, and I was the only human there, then it'd probably kick ass. Then again, I might feel differently after an eternity spent there, but that's a bridge that has to be crossed before- Oh, right! I'm supposed to be talking about Valis for the Sega Genesis... I think?

Valia: "Welcome to the Fantasy World. Rogles has broken Yin & Yang. Go kill him."

Yuko: "This is bullshit. Fuck you."

Valia: "Oh yeah? Eat this bikini armor laser."

Yuko: "...!"

What you've just seen is an accurate summation of Valis: The Fantasm Soldier's intro. Jokes aside, one of the key aspects to the series is its presentation. All of the cutscenes in this entry look good. The remainder of the audiovisual experience is fine. A couple of stages suffer from an especially repetitive song, but most players should survive it. Backdrops, enemies, and bosses also look okay. However, I've got this feeling that Valis 3 - which actually released on the Genesis before this port - looked and sounded much better. Perhaps my memory is faulty. Whatever the case, I can't really file this as a complaint. It's more of an observation used to pad out the portion of the review that I'm not 100% invested in.

The game itself is what you'd expect from an action-platformer. Yuko runs from left to right slicing up fiends with a sword while hopping or sliding over deadly pits. From the outset, it's clear that the properties of the sword itself are practically an afterthought. Hitting a baddie with it is made a tad more complicated than it should be. Blame it on the iffy hitboxes, which are a semi-common occurrence throughout the adventure. Thankfully, crystals situated in the air contain a variety of power-ups, including the first projectile weapon. 

Projectiles are your main means of dealing damage in Valis. Each weapon you can acquire can be powered up a couple extra times, increasing its strength or coverage. There's no strategy in choosing one projectile over the other. In fact, you should think of each new one you find as an upgrade. The sole exception is the homing arrow. Avoid it unless you're trying to make the game harder. Follow this simple rule and you'll have no trouble destroying all that dares to cross your path. Well, you'll likely have no trouble regardless, because 95% of this game is incredibly easy. Enemies don't respawn and are unlikely to make a dent in Yuko's beefy health meter before she nonchalantly slays them. I can't say I've ever considered the viability of a "pacifist run", but you'd probably have to bump into every single monster at least a couple of times to create the resemblance of a life-threatening situation. 

One of the admirable quirks of this series is the slide. A single tap of the A button causes Yuko to slide across the- well, she can slide across anything she wants apparently. What gives this technique its flavor is that the heroine completely ignores gravity while sliding. Indeed, you're better off sliding across holes instead of trying to leap over them. Slides also offer a much-appreciated boost of speed. Running tends to be a dreary way of getting around, especially in the forest stage after you've already slaughtered everything and just want to grab a couple missed power-ups. Sliding is also useful for the boss battles. I doubt it'll ever mean the difference between life or death, but it has to be worth some style points. 

If you ever find yourself struggling with Valis, then say no more, because I already know why. The boss of the forest stage is Reiko, Yuko's classmate. She's something of a special case because of her full-screen attack. This can't be dodged and takes away an inexplicable 46% of Yuko's health. No wait. If TV Tropes is a reputable source, then it's actually 48%. Point is, Reiko has this absurd move and isn't afraid to spam it. This is where I mention the singular purpose of this game's spell system. The "Flame Ring" spell gifts the heroine a couple seconds of invulnerability. Fire it up, get close, and mash that attack button. Your MP and especially HP should survive the battle. This spell is useful against the final boss as well, so don't forget about it. Do forget about every other spell though.

Ultimately, Valis manages to skirt just outside of the bad realm. Like I've mentioned multiple times in the past, if you've got a piece of interactive entertainment with questionable mechanics, balance issues, lackadaisical level-design, and a host of other faults, then consider keeping the difficulty as low as possible. I might treat it like Valis and let it slide with a rating of in-offensive. In my eyes, a heavily flawed video game will always benefit from being ridiculously easy to finish. Perhaps the lack of difficulty should be considered a flaw, but that's just not how I function. If I'm being challenged and that challenge is coming from the game's suckage, then that's no good. 

*Now that I think about it, in that Vita Sword Art Online game, I actually played the role of Mr. Two Swords' friend. Whatever. Nobody cares.

Game Boy look - Mega Man III - Roll-chan's World 3

Minakuchi Engineering is back with the third installment in the handheld Mega Man series. The previous game was... fine but clearly lacking the fresh spices that made Dr. Wily's Revenge such a cl... well, I personally wouldn't use the word classic, but maybe there's someone out there that feels differently. In any case, this entry is Mega Man 3 + 4 but twisted. Not TwIStEd twisted, but anyone expecting a smooth robot-stomping adventure is in for a rude awakening. 

For this go-around, you'll absolutely want to master the charge shot. Especially if you're like me and keep forgetting which Robot Masters are weak to which weapons. A charged blast is a respectable damage dealer no matter the situation and is required for defeating this entry's exclusive bosses. Otherwise, your most effective tools will be the Shadow Blade and maybe the Dust Crusher. Everything else is a pitiful waste of space. I'm not going to say that useless weapons is an uncommon sentiment in Mega Man games, but I was hoping the developer would use this second edition to dole out some buffs. 

With the main nitpick out of the way, let's jump right into what makes this game work: its level design. I thought that Dr. Wily's Revenge went too far in a few places. The last stage was especially gruesome with its multiple instances of disappearing blocks. Nothing nearly as excessive makes an appearance here. Instead, Minakuchi Engineering opted for stages that are about 1.3 times longer than usual. In Dive Man's stage, for example, there's a new section that takes place entirely underwater. There are spikes all over the ceilings, so measured jumps are essential. Some segments that were too uneventful or too taxing on the hardware were replaced. The end result is that you can't underestimate anything. Every obstacle has a purpose. Damage adds up quickly. Don't be ashamed if you find yourself hesitating at every jump, because an enemy can and likely will spawn at every jump. 

Still, I believe all of it works. The difficulty is consistent, and never sadistic. Oh, hold the front door, did I just say "never"? Yeah, poor word choice on my part. There are no evers, nevers, or forevers when it comes to video games. One important aspect that I should've immediately pointed out a second ago is Mega Man III loves its pixel-perfect jumps. If both of the hero's feet aren't hanging over the ledge, then that next leap might be their last. Either there's a low ceiling to bump one's head against, or the chasm is slightly wider than expected. I say this, but I'm still waffling on whether excessive applies. That's mainly because if the player is having a tense moment, like the platforms they're hopping across could disappear underneath them, then there are little to no precise jumps. I know it goes without saying, but a little patience goes somewhere. If you have time to plan your next move, then the game will act accordingly.

Dustman's stage is absolutely a showcase for ME's attitude. The slightest mistakes are often punished severely. First off, you'll want to pay attention to every semi-wide chasm. The enemy robots that pop out of them attack in pairs, blindsiding anyone whose timing is a little off. Several of the jumps have to be immaculate. It'll also get to be rather grueling, with a series of encounters specifically designed to chip away at health meters. Like I said before, every stage runs longer than usual, so getting kicked pack to a prior checkpoint or even the beginning hurts significantly. 

At least you're mostly in the clear if you can reach a boss with spare lives. The fights are extremely doable, and IMO at least, more reasonable than in other instalments. When I revisited Mega Man 3 (the NES game) not too long ago, I realized that some of the fights rely on a 50/50 guesses. Shadowman jumps three times then either slides or throws his shuriken. The slide is too fast to react to, but the shuriken is slightly delayed. I'm terrible at guessing, so trying to win this fight with just the buster was a headache. The charged shot and slightly decreased speed do an amazing job at taking some of the guesswork out of this troublesome fight. The same applies to every Robot Master, giving players more agency when deciding which one to tackle first. I also mentioned the exclusive fights that have to be done with just the buster. They're tough but doable. In spite of its intimidating size and penchant for crushing, Dr. Wily's final robot has a pretty simple pattern to exploit. 

Oh, and I have one other nitpick that I want to mention. There are platforms that explode three seconds after Mega Man or Roll steps on them. Keep in mind that the instant either of them land on the platform, they'll actually fall for a couple of frames due to the trigger being depressed. It's in these frames that your next press of the jump button is almost guaranteed to get eaten, resulting in a robot running off of the platform and into the loving embrace of a spike-bed. It's hard to call anything that results in instant death a minor quirk, but I suppose that's all it really is.

No matter how you go about playing it, Mega Man III is a damn solid entry from an underrated developer. Minakuchi Engineering eased up on the absurdity while still delivering an adventure that refuses to pull its punches. I didn't even have to bring up the controls because there's nothing out of the ordinary about them. This is an all-around great entry point for anyone curious about Mega Man's Game Boy era. 

Playstation 2 Look - Castlevania: Curse of Darkness

If I hadn't already made it clear, let it be etched in stone that I would follow Koji Igarashi to the ends of the Earth. However, after finishing Castlevania: Curse of Darkness many moons ago, I wished I could've caught up to him and said, "With all due respect Igarashi-san, what the hell was this?" He'd respond with a bow, a wry smirk, and then draw a croissant-shaped portal with his pinky finger. Before I could even stammer another word, he'd disappear. Honestly though, if that ever actually happened, I'd probably buy five copies of his next game instead of just three. I can't get enough of these systems-driven Action RPGs with their rare drops, voluminous bestiaries, and quirky mechanics that may or may not appear in future games. Even with all this in mind, there's no way that I'd ever revisit his 2005 monstrosity. No way in hell... 

Admittedly, the blood of a sicko maniac runs through my veins, which creates a thirst that isn't easily sated. You've already gotten a glimpse into its effects. I've just recently played and written about a string of Igavanias for platforms of all sizes. It isn't enough. As the wait for Bloodstained: The Scarlet Engagement continues, the thirst becomes uncontrollable. Seconds later, I black out. After a moment of what feels like swimming in the abyss, I awaken to the voice of Russel Watson. The instant my vision recovers, I recognize the Logitech F310 in my hands, and (to my horror) the credits rolling on Castlevania: Curse of Darkness. What I believed was a moment was actually somewhere between 15 and 20 hours. That was when the realization struck me: Either I write something about this damn game, or Dracula's curse follows me into the grave.

The year is 1479. Though Dracula was destroyed by Trevor Belmont and his allies, the dark lord's curse ravages the surrounding countryside still. Seemingly all of Europe has been plunged into an age of endless pestilence and chaos. It is here that we find Hector. Consumed by revenge, he returns to the realm of darkness he once called home in the hopes of finding the man that orchestrated his fiancée's murder. However, not everything is as it seems. Mysterious individuals stalk his every move, all hinting at a grand scheme that could lead to mankind's destruction. If Hector is to solve this mess, then he's going to need your help. Pick up a controller, fire up that PS2 or PCSX2, and lead him down the path of the Devil Forgemaster. Crush the undead evils, obtain powers beyond comprehension, suffer like I have suffered. 

On paper, Castlevania: Curse of Darkness is everything I could've wanted from a follow-up to Lament of Innocence. The RPG elements that were once abandoned are now at the forefront. Hector doesn't just level-up. He recruits and evolves Innocent Devils (or familiars), all with the ability to level-up and learn new powers. There's now a crafting system where weapons and armor are smashed together from materials that are dropped or stolen from enemies. Stealing is an entire mechanic on its own. Instead of just running up to the nearest fiend and hoping for an RNG blessing, players have to figure out what causes the stealing window to appear and position Hector so he can successfully swipe the goods. It's in my opinion one of the most thoughtful systems to grace the genre. Along with all this, players will explore a larger game-world, fight more bosses, and every moment is accompanied by some of Michiru Yamane's finest work. 

You know exactly what happens every time the words on paper are used. I proceed to go on a massive diatribe about how all the cool stuff is actually totally uncool and contributes to a disastrous game. The only difference this time around is I've nearly forgotten to slide in the other overused word pairing in practice. In all seriousness, my feelings on this product are a mishmash of highs and lows. A lot of what's on paper actually works in practice. Everything surrounding the process of character-building is terrifyingly addictive. It's got that Shin Megami Tensei loop wherein every new area is an opportunity to craft a bunch of new stuff, only this time around I've got a real demon watching my back. 

The Innocent Devil system is an incredibly unique take on Metroidvania and I'd gladly check out any game that attempts something similar. The basic conceit is that besides a double-jump, Hector completely lacks traversal powers. His abilities remain unchanged no matter how many hours you invest. In order for him to reach normally inaccessible locations, he has to rely on his demonic allies. These friendly fiends are divided in six types, though only five are necessary to complete his quest. Fairies unlock treasure chests, battlers open heavy doors, Mages cast puzzle-solving spells, Birds carry their master across chasms, and Devils allow one to slip underneath small crevices. The Innocent Devils are organized into your "deck" and function as both a persistent ally in battle and a means of opening a path forward. The limited deck size and variety of IDs add up to what is essentially your build. You can personalize it however you like with demons whose skills suit your playstyle.

Evolving an Innocent Devil is as simple as feeding it gems that are tied to whichever type of weapon you're using to slay monsters. These evolved forms obtain new abilities that better serve the Forgemaster in combat or unlock even more of the game-world. There's something oddly satisfying about creating an ID specifically to destroy blood skeletons, which rely on their immunity to conventional weapons to keep Hector locked out of a secret room. Iyeti is rather useless in battle, but he's friend-shaped and Hector can ride upon his shoulders. I could describe the other myriad ways this unconventional progression system influences Curse of Darkness, but in the interest of brevity, I have to call it what it is: a missed opportunity. Obtaining the gems needed to achieve certain forms isn't a natural process. Most players are going to spend an inordinate amount of time in a certain late-game room farming skeletons until they've gotten the IDs to a point where they can access the rest of the hidden treasures and clear the optional combat challenges. 

In the end, I suppose it's all just philosophical differences. The ID system was designed first and foremost for combat; traversal skills are just a bonus. More to the point, these are not the mostly inconsequential familiars that inhabit the likes of SOTN, Sorrow, or Bloodstained. Build an Innocent Devil up and it'll annihilate whatever gets in your way. Every type of demon has access to some incredibly powerful skills, and they're often beefy or evasive enough to fend for themselves. Having a mage that can drop a screen-wiping star or a demonic samurai that slices up bosses is positively lovely. It almost makes me forget that the moment-to-moment combat is a step down from the previous game... almost. 

Lament of Innocence didn't have the deepest combat, largely due to its pitiful enemy variety. However, it was convincing and satisfying to engage in. Learning the intricacies and utilizing advanced techniques such as perfect guard led to encounters that were consistently fun. Curse of Darkness got the enemy variety, but everything else was compromised. No matter what he's wielding, Hectors attacks are stiff and lack gratification. Instead of short yet consistently executable combos, he has a long attack string with a plethora of finishers, but nothing stays alive along enough for any of them to matter. Even while "locked-on" it's painfully easy to whiff a lot of moves, limiting the viability of any weapon that's neither fast nor has a horizontal slash. This game's constant desire for more came at a pretty huge cost.

Besides utterly disappointing, there's not much else I can say about the combat. Hang on, there are still bosses to discuss, and they're all quite decent. I'd refrain from giving them too much praise, and that's mostly due to how much they vary in difficulty. Before continuing, I'd say it's well-established that delivering strong boss battles is particularly difficult in a subgenre where players are always finding new ways to break everything in seconds. Both Harmony of Dissonance and Portrait of Ruin have a technique called "damage-stacking". Once you master it, almost every boss devolves into a speed bump. I'll give credit to this game for designing bosses that have unique traits and abilities. If you're trying to steal their rare treasure, then that leads to more opportunities for them to show off their large repertoire of attacks. Mainly, I believe my issue with them is simply a matter of numbers. The mid to late-game features a series of surprisingly tough battles against archfiends that hit like a truck. Players, believing that the end-game battles will be even harder, spend extra time building up Hector's stats and IDs. What happens next is that the final bosses are quickly slaughtered. I can't get too hung up on this. It's a tricky balance to get right. Also, I could try playing on the "Crazy" difficulty for what is sure to be a real challenge, but we both know that's never going to happen.

This leads to the part of the game that buries all its other qualities, both the fantastic and the middling. Do you remember how I gave Lament of Innocence a bunch of shit for its constant deluge of hallways & rooms? Curse of Darkness takes that number and modifies it exponentially. The entire game is just corridors leading into hallways leading into... corridors leading... into... more hallways. Those instances where I'm expected to do anything besides run forward are as rare as Crissageims. Even the previous game tried doing things besides locking its protagonist in a room and filling it full of monsters. There were jumping puzzles, using the whip to reach platforms, and... it all feels so far away now. 

Leon Belmont's method for moving at any speed besides sloth involved duping glitches and axe-charge spam. Hector doesn't even have that going for him. If this man had a car, he'd be driving 10 kph on a 45 kph street. He's so consumed by revenge that it has taken the form of a giant boulder and chained itself around his neck. It's invisible at first, but after a dozen hours you too will see it plain as day and it will crush your spirit. I can't understand it. Would the game be broken if this guy ran like he gave a damn about anything? The same applies to unlockable vampire killer Trevor. Just the thought of watching him jog through countless tubes of rock and dirt for hours sickens me.

The excruciatingly slow running speed is abetted by every hallway being nearly infinite in length. Again, I don't know what this accomplishes. Whatever constitutes good pacing died the second Hector took his first step. Stretching that into infinity does nothing besides break my brain. Worse still, it's not like there's much to look at. This game's abundance of flat lighting and boring backdrops creates an experience that can only be described as dull enough to kill. 

Imagine trekking through nearly eight floors of this shit.

At one point in Dracula's Castle, I wanted to hunt to steal some Sun Tears from Efreets so I could make the weapon necessary to unlock the hidden ID Pumpkin-type. Now this castle is big, but like every other location, it's big in every which way except good. Also, as you've no doubt noticed, its layout is halls and rooms shift + inserted ad nauseum. Efreets are located somewhere in the middle floors. Not exactly a convenient farming location, but I figured I could make do. Embarrassingly, I somehow got turned around and ended up heading right back where I started. Once the realization hit me, my mind went straight to "Fuck this. I'd better just finish the game." 

There's a lot in Castlevania: Curse of Darkness that makes me tolerate what should've been intolerable. It's because I know that there's a kindred spirit within. Whatever this being is, it knows exactly what I want to see in a video game. Having so personalized an experience is like having a hole in the wall that was made for me. Finally, a place where I fit in, or so I thought. If this game hadn't decided to double down on all of its predecessor's flaws, it's possible that my entire outlook on gaming could've been shaped into something that my pitiful vocabulary wouldn't have dared to put words to. Who knows? Maybe The Scarlet Engagement will combine absurdist mechanics with non-glacial pacing, sending my soul away to a world of endless bliss, or at least that place in the wall where I can finally know comfort.