Tuesday, October 13, 2026

2026 Special - Silhouette Mirage


You don't need me to tell you that Silhouette Mirage is one-of-a-kind. Back in 1997, Treasure released an action game so mechanically dense that it would be impossible to iterate on. There could never be a sequel no matter how stars and planets aligned. Once again, I'm left staring at the pale abyss, as the words that'd sum up both this lovingly bizarre creation and my thoughts on it are dancing just out of reach. Perhaps I should start by pointing out that this game only works when you allow yourself to get lost in it. Multiple playthroughs are required. A second or even third visit to the tutorial is highly recommended. Most of all, you have to treat every move as a conscious decision. Something as simple as the direction the player-character faces changes the entire trajectory of her next interaction. Failing to weigh the consequences of a single button-press or tap of the d-pad will result in more than just lost health. The pillars of order and chaos will collide in a stunning explosion, setting up a chain of catastrophes that one may never recover from.


Like so much of Treasure's output, this game adheres to the core principles of feng shui. In order to reach Edo and reboot the world to what it was before the apocalyptic "Day of Parting", Shyna Nera Shyna will have to be receptive, not reactive. Both the Silhouettes and Mirages refer to her as a messenger of destruction. As such, attempting to operate strictly as an opposing force will bring a world of hurt upon the heroine. Enemies tend to have an innate element that's either red or blue. Fire opposite-colored bullets at them to inflict damage, or like-colored bullets to drain their spirit. Seeing as how Shyna's projectiles are determined by the direction she's facing, players have to approach every encounter with heightened awareness. In other shootemups, it doesn't matter where we stand, just as long as we're not in imminent danger. Having such a simple concept irrecoverably altered will take quite some time to adjust to. Since you can't fight against it, you just have to adapt, become one with the world and its denizens. 

Further complicating matters is the fact that both Shyna and her enemies can reflect like-colored projectiles. Reflected bullets become neutral and are dangerous to either element. Needless to say, Shyna could blow herself up if you're not paying attention to what the enemy is doing. Bear in mind also that while destroying the enemy outright might sound like the ideal choice, choice is something of a luxury. Shyna has to be facing the enemy, on the side of them that allows her to inflict damaging shots, and in a position where she isn't at risk of a dreadful counterattack. It's times like these that weakening the enemy and removing some of their special attacks from the equation can be pretty helpful. Also, it might be a good idea to rush in for a grab, pound their face for some extra coins, and then toss them in a direction that favors you. Most notable fights are 1v1s and are very dynamic, with momentum that can turn on a dime. 


The game's adherence to feng shui can also be felt in how Shyna moves. Part of the reason positioning is so important is because the heroine's walking speed is very... normal. She isn't the anomaly that zips all over the screen, ignoring the actions of others as time dilates around her. I seriously almost want to use the word methodical, because the messenger's slow movements often force players to act defensively. Dashing, sliding, and energy tackling are all moves available to the heroine, but there's at least one limitation tied to each. The energy tackle, which crushes enemies with a tremendous burst of speed, requires one to double-tap down and then double-tap forward. If you have Tekken-level execution, you could probably perform it very quickly. However, it's still a move that requires sequential inputs, and can't be relied upon as some instant escape. Slides only go a short distance and dashes tend to be the point A to point B move. These limits emphasize the importance of Shyna's reflect, a move also incapable of solving every problem. After all, it does no good if one is facing the wrong direction or is the wrong element while it's in use. Treasure committed to making a game where every single action is significant. There's always a cost. 

Admittedly, this does mean that it's taken me quite some time to discover an appreciation for what they were going for. The heroine's triple-jump is very cool, but without an air-dash, she often ends up a floaty target. Movement in games is something that I tend to take for granted, so getting smashed by a giant mech that probably could've been outwalked was a serious wakeup call. Several enemy attacks require that one understand good positioning over mere reactions. Megiddo, one of the late-game bosses, has a move where he dive-kicks into the ground and then uppercuts his way out. The kick is easy to avoid because of its long travel-time. Conversely, the uppercut is either a close-dodge or a well-executed reflect. I say well-executed, because if Shyna is too close, she'll take a hit through her shield and lose some spirit. A lot of thoughtful work was put into the encounters, and they often present problems that aren't solved with a little "Oh. I'll just walk over here and avoid it entirely." Count on multiple playthroughs, as it'll take quite some time for all the details to lock into place.


Don't worry if any of this sounds the slightest bit overwhelming. Silhouette Mirage is first and foremost a teaching game. Its lengthy tutorial and frequent bosses that demand Shyna's entire skillset ensure that the player isn't left behind and scrambling for a clue. Also, provided that you've taken advantage of the wealthy, the protag will usually have enough cash to refill both health and spirit. It's not too hard to gain an advantage either. In the caverns of area 1, there's a group of specters that'll respawn if you step into a nearby hole and jump out. This is an exploit that the developers are actually aware of, as they included a hidden shop that sells a level 6 Slotha for 900 bucks, and nobody aside from the farmers of that specific room have that kind of dosh. If you are that person, then congratulations. You now have a weapon that'll crush a good chunk of bosses.

Ah right, the weapons. Something that the cutesy art-direction tends to hide is that the inhabitants of the world tend to be cybernetic abominations. Shyna herself has these weapons called parasites. With names sounding awfully like the seven sins, up to three of these cuddle-wuddlies can be purchased, equipped, and swapped between. Seeing as how parasites are practically the sole means of dealing damage, you'll want some that fit your playstyle... or at least do a half-decent job. My personal favorite is Pridy, because boomerangs are awesome. Glattony is a solid laser that has its uses. As for the rest... well... eh. Some of them just seem too situational or require a heavy investment to be functional. Slotha at anything less than level 6 is hardly worth messing with. I'll also add that the choice of parasite as well as the current spirit level can have a compounding negative effect on boss-battles. Endgame fights with underpowered weaponry tend to drag on for a long time. 


Still, I'd say it's best to approach Silhouette Mirage with an open mind. I mean, that mind has to be wide open. This is a very playful game. Its willingness to take ideas and just toy with them is very reminiscent of Dynamite Headdy. There's a good chance you'll discover a new interaction each time you replay it. Each boss, even those that get crushed with overpowered parasites, has a niche. You can learn the patterns, know exactly where to stand at all times, and still discover something new about them. In essence, this is less a boss-rush and more a very thoughtful series of events. In spite of her protagonist powers and status as messenger of justice/destruction, Shyna is as much an inhabitant of this world as everyone else. There's a level of back-and-forth to every battle that isn't often seen in the action genre. It's a very confident game, never showing hesitancy let alone fear. The dense mechanics and cavalcade of ideas have created something rich, something that can't be imitated. 

Oh, and for the sake of everything, do not ever mess with the Working Designs version. The Saturn original received a lovely fan-translation, and you can always play the Japanese PS1 port if the extra content interests you. WD's gameplay changes built a ruinous shithouse that could very well cause players to shelve the game for decades.

Sunday, October 11, 2026

Saturn Look - Hissatsu!


The walls are insulated and the air conditioner is running full blast, but don't look out that window unless you want to see the flames. That's right, we're in licensed game hell. Hissatsu! for the Sega Saturn is based on Hissatsu: Shigotonin, the 15 to 30th series in one of Japan's longest running period dramas. Shigotonin chronicles the exploits of Nakamura Mondo and his group of assassins. Hiding in plain sight, they all have normal lives as officers, monks, doctors, etc. If you've got the coin and a desire for justice, then you can put their real expertise to work. Before the night is over, they'll solve a mystery, find (or avenge) a missing person, and kill the villains responsible. This 1996 game is the result of a collaboration between Emotion Digital Software and KID Corp. You know KID, right? They've done everything from G.I. Joe to Pepsiman. Putting together a Shinobi-like should be no sweat for such a skilled developer.


For the most part, Hissatsu! accomplishes exactly what it sets out to do. At the beginning of each stage, players decide on which two assassins they'll use to infiltrate the enemy's base and eliminate its leader. Mondo is generally a safe pick, as he's great with a sword and can swiftly defeat tough adversaries with a special slashing attack. Tetsu is a bonesetter who crushes spines like party cups, but don't treat him as a strictly melee fighter. His secret technique is a hadouken that can fly through multiple foes at once. Date prefers to use knives and throwing darts. Exceptionally fast both in and out of combat, this craftsman is also a solid choice for most stages. The shamisen-maker Yuji wields a wire that can strike down faraway adversaries. He's also quite the boss-killer once you get his attack timing down. However, he tends to struggle when faced with enemies that can crouch underneath his attacks. Each assassin has their own health meter, and you can switch between the two you've chosen whenever necessary. Naturally, the game ends if they're both defeated. 

Early on, this game has an almost Tenchu-like quality to it. Enemies don't rush in and attack the instant they appear onscreen. Instead, they stand and wait for one of the assassins to cross their line of sight. While every playable character can block, a successful fight often involves mobility or the environment. To give an example, Date's melee attack is quick but has very short range. You're better off jumping over an enemy and stabbing them repeatedly in the neck than trying a direct approach. Of course, this changes if one of your picks is Mondo. He can out-slash most everyone, especially with that special attack of his. The meter underneath everyone's health drains whenever specials are performed. Replenishing this meter is as simple as walking, and you can take further advantage of the mechanic by with the right setup. Tetsu's fireball costs a ton of meter, so keep him as the backup for whenever a squad of goons comes into view. There are a lot of possibilities here. Players could find assassin combinations that fit their style of play, clear a stage in record time, or devise all sorts of extra challenges. 


Stage 3 is where Hissatsu! really starts to embrace its unique qualities. This stage takes place in a massive cave with multiple paths. There are walls that only Mondo or Tetsu can destroy, adding to the variety of routes. Enemies have also leveled up quite a bit. Instead of tired guards or shmucks with swords, our assassin friends will contend with samurai and ninjas. There are two types of ninjas: those who throw shuriken, and those who swing swords (and clone themselves). Much like the arcade Shinobi game, these masked jerks tend to appear from out of nowhere, forcing players to move methodically or react quickly. Even death isn't enough to end their terror, as they have a chance of leaving behind a caltrop. This is a tough but still very reasonable stage, especially if you obtain the onigiri hidden in its many corners. Healing sources are hard to find, which emphasizes the careful "think two steps ahead" play, thus making for an interesting take on the side-scroller formula.

However, since we're in licensed game hell, stage 4 eschews all the possibilities in favor of ninja-filled hallways. Look, I have nothing against one of the hallmarks of action game design. The Shinobi series is a masterclass at it. With dynamic and varied level-design, battling color-coded cretins never gets old. The problem here is that there is no level-design. For at least half of stage 4, the player can only move from left to right while being bombarded by ninjas and crows. Oh, that's right. I forgot to mention that crows hate the heroic assassin team. Crows! This doesn't sit well with me for multiple reasons. It's already known that pissing off a crow will condemn someone to a lifetime of a turmoil. If I was that someone, I'd have to get out of the killing business. Seriously, how could I do my job when there's a murder following my every step yelling "Look at this motherfucker!"? So, yeah. Half of stage 4 is spent getting beaten half to death by ninjas, samurai, and crows. Freaking obnoxious.

A wall of caltrops. This is gaming.

Stage 4 needed to be split into multiple parts, because the second half is its own tale of woe and brutality. There's some much-needed verticality in that the assassins must climb stairs while fending off enemies. Unfortunately, its detours often lead to ninja ambushes. If you see an onigiri, then it's liable to be guarded by at least five ninjas. Only the most meticulous players can get this far into the stage with a decent amount of remaining health. Everyone else will just have to suffer. Also worth mentioning is that an onigiri adds one and only 1 point of health. You could lose that and potentially more just trying to reach it. Hissatsu! could've been six or se-eight stages long, but the developer opted for five, and crammed far too much into one of them, and for what? To pad out the playtime? 


What kills me is that the following stage, which in all likelihood should've been even worse, is actually quite solid. The level-design is pretty interesting, with a wide gamut of scenarios to deal with. I thought the library full of snakes was neat. The new enemies are hardly a fraction as annoying as the ninjas, even if their numbers border on comical. There's a second half with a more labyrinthian layout. Both halves complement each other well. It's like the game decided to be creative again, but only at the very end (and after whittling its player down to a nub). 

Hissatsu! is a hard game to recommend. I don't have any complaints about the basics. Each assassin controls as fluidly as in any other 2D classic. Utilizing their techniques to dispatch foes is seamless and fun. Some real potential can be seen in a few of the stages. Having multiple characters and routes could create serious replay-value. Then stage 4 hits and it's just a torturous series of life-draining situations. If I want to reach the part where the game gets good again, then I have to memorize every inch of a featureless mansion. Failure to do so leads to death by a thousand ninjas. Maybe this is one of those games that would've "hit differently" if I had stumbled upon it back when I was a semi-fanatical Saturn collector. I might've even referred to it at a hidden and slightly tarnished gem. Sadly, those days ended over 20 years ago. Now I'm just another crank trapped in a hell of my own creation.

Wednesday, October 7, 2026

2026 Special - Kaizō Chōjin Shubibinman 3: Ikai no Princess


I have no idea what to say about Cyber Citizen Shockman 3: The Princess from Another World. A retro-focused blog such as this is bound to cover hundreds of games that can be beaten in 30 minutes or less. However, there's supposed to be something called difficulty to stretch that time out. Masaya's conclusion to the PC Engine trilogy gave me way more than I could possibly need to reach the credits. Health restoratives are consistently dropped, ensuring that I'll never suffer consequences for my mistakes. Bosses are quickly dispatched with remote controlled charge-shots, so there's zero reason to learn patterns or develop strategies. Oh, but what if I actually died?! Well, then there's nothing that can be done except take a continue from the huge stock I've amassed and resume exactly where I died. 

It's... it's unfair! I didn't get any time to think. The entire playthrough was just progress, progress, progress, straight to the end. Kyapiko slashes apart the hopeless enemies and crosses quasi-dangerous chasms with ease. Too much ease, actually! Someone at the dev team could've given her and Tasuke a fixed-arc jump or a health meter that couldn't take more than two hits. Give me something to complain about!

Okay, you know what? Screw it. I'm cutting this review short. You'll just have to imagine six additional paragraphs of bullshit. Kaizō Chōjin Shubibinman 3: Ikai no Princess clearly wasn't for me.

I'm pretty sure I only fought like two of these guys.

Tuesday, October 6, 2026

2026 Special - Yōkai Buster: Ruka no Daibōken


During the mid-90s, Sting was tasked with creating two games for two big media companies. In 1994's The Jetsons: Invasion of the Planet Pirates, the fate of the Solar System is in the hands of George, who must stop Zora and her SPREE minions from stealing all of the natural resources. The Jetson Patriarch uses a Pneumo Osmatic Precipitator to defeat enemies, climb walls, and do whatever else a futuristic super vacuum would do. Zora's resemblance to Skata-Hara implies that someone at Hanna Barbera wanted to bring a character from the original TV show back for a video game appearance. Skata-Hara has a villainous organization of her own called SNEEK. It's not exactly subtle. The plan probably fell apart after someone realized that Nintendo wouldn't allow a SNES game to reference an episode of The Jetsons titled Space Bong. I have several questions, but none of them are worth answering.

A year later, Kadokawa Shoten commissioned a game from Sting that would use Planet Pirates as its base. Yōkai Buster: Ruka no Daibōken follows the misadventures of Ruka, a literal 1,000-year-old demon-girl living in a post-apocalyptic world. At the time, Ruka was Marukatsu Super Famicom's newest mascot, so giving her a game made sense. While out for a walk in the ruined city, Ruka spots a (evil?) guy, throws a watermelon at him, and immediately falls in love. Somehow this segues into several stages of hop 'n suck action. Oddly convenient how the heroine has a friendly Oni head who functions like a Pneumo Osmatic Precipitator. Maybe this was all explained in the magazine. Besides new graphics and music, Sting improved the level-design, tweaked some sections to be fairer towards players, and added a tutorial & minigame. However, a falling out between president Haruki Kadokawa and his brother Tsuguhiko - as well as Haruki getting arrested for drug-trafficking - spelled the end for Marukatsu Super Famicom and Ruka. 


...Anyway, I've decided to focus my review on Yōkai Buster since it (sort-of) fits the 2026 Special's requirements and is just a better game all-around. Starting with the basics, Ruka can jump, command her decapitated Oni buddy to suck, and run. One aspect of the controls that'll likely go underappreciated is the A button. It functions as if the player had pressed both jump & suck buttons. It sounds superfluous but is actually quite amazing for wall-climbing. Also, yes, it's possible to stick to not just walls, but ceilings too. The tutorial covers all this and more, so give it a spin before starting the adventure. One other trick that you might want to practice is the ceiling-jump. Leaping across a ceiling is tricky, but it can lead to extra rewards. Oh, and runners might want to be careful, or else Ruka will slam into a wall and spend the next few seconds a little dazed.

The "vehicle section" is a totally optional minigame. Thank fuck.

Yōkai take on various forms and are generally dealt with via a faceful of melon or getting sucked in and spat out. It's not always simple, since some might have a projectile or unique trick for punishing players who stick to the usual methods of attack. For instance, some gremlins in Stage 2 hang from the ceiling and chuck projectiles. If you try to hoover the fiend towards you, then what'll happen is the object they just threw is going to be hidden by their body. It's a sneaky trick! The following stage features baddies that'll bat your spittle back at you. Segmented foes gladly give up half of themselves so the other half can land a hit. Further complicating Ruka's life is the ease in which baddies respawn. Step offscreen for a millimeter, come back, and what you thought was destroyed has come back. You can take advantage of this to farm power-ups, so it's not all bad. Although, having these respawns occur in platforming-heavy areas isn't good either.

As far as mechanics-driven platformers go, this one is surprisingly light on the puzzles. The switches that Ruka flips are often done without the aid of Oni-head. There isn't a single segment where the duo latches onto a moving platform in order to cross a chasm. Most stages are just a menagerie of obstacles. Some gaps are jumped over while others are fallen into. Put both of them side-by-side, and you're bound to notice the crueler aspects of Planet Pirates' were toned-down. One section in stage 2 was a vertical shaft that operated by Castlevania rules, meaning as Ruka climbed, everything below her became a bottom-less pit. Cutting that out was a wise decision. Stage 3 had a crushing wall that George could only survive by flipping switches. While this trap is in both games, Ruka doesn't have to be as quick or efficient to survive it. 


Even without the moment-to-moment problems to solve, stages remain semi-interesting thanks to the gimmicks they employ. In stage 5, Ruka contends with a series of traps and one of the rare mini-bosses: a pair of Daruma that must be spat into an electrical field. Next is the water & ice stage, so expect to deal with the combined forces of slippery floors and swimming controls (neither of which are that problematic). Occasional leftovers from Planet Pirates do crop up in the strangest places though. There are some doors that blow Ruka out into space if she's near them when they open. I figured something that out-of-place was suspicious, but I still have to wonder why Sting didn't create mystical doors that sucked the unwary into the death dimension instead. These and other issues can be attributed to a work-for-hire developer cutting corners, and I'm not mad at that. 

Ruka's world is filled with a surprising number if instant-death opportunities. I guess the rule is that if something is big enough to eat her, then she shouldn't go anywhere near it. This is exemplified as early as the first boss. Get too close, and he'll toss the millennia-old teenager out like yesterday's garbage. Try to avoid crushing pistons, purple water, and naked chicks hiding in giant clams. It's not always easy, but accumulating a large number of lives isn't hard. Yōkai Buster is a 16-bit platformer after all. 


I probably should've expected that the final boss is way tougher than everything else in the game. The checkpoints are generous, which is nice to see in a multi-phase finale, but it's really easy to just mess up and die horribly. There are crushing-wall segments, and you're only allowed a sliver of leeway. They're not like... creative or anything. The first is just a matter of not goofing the first couple inputs and then mashing A to scale the wall quickly. The second has one wall that's far taller than the rest, and it might as well have a big "This is where you'll die." sign. The last phase is rife with "fun" attacks like insta-lightning. At least each phase isn't especially durable. 3 to 5 hits are enough to take out each. Still, the frequent deaths really pad things out, creating a frustration that inevitably smothers the otherwise de- just alright game.

Yōkai Buster is fine when it isn't trying to do something. Moving from one end of the screen to the other, hawking monsters into walls, and jumping on a platform or three? That all works, but not to the point where I actually wanted to be tested. Some of the mechanics, like Ruka's slow walking speed while Oni is holding an object, are a bad fit for intense situations. This doesn't matter because almost every fight ends with a single suck & spit. The occasional iffy jump didn't bother me because pits are uncommon and spike beds might as well not exist. It wasn't until I reached to the final boss, with its multiple phases and crushing walls, that I had to ask the game what I was getting in return for my efforts. The answer was silence (obviously), but I'm assuming that if it could, it would've told me about every spare life I was gifted, as if that's supposed to make a difference. Ultimately, this is a tie-in game that accomplished the bare minimum. The best words I can use to describe it are "eh" and "hm".  

Hard mode starts off with an enemy just inches away from Ruka. C'mon Sting, you're better than this.

Monday, October 5, 2026

2026 Special - Touhou Luna Nights


Last year, I commented on how the incredible success of Touhou Luna Nights placed Team Ladybug in an unenviable position. The shadow of Sakuya's adventures in the false Scarlet Devil Mansion continues to loom over the developer, judging all of their future projects with an overly critical eye. I say this, knowing full well that Deedlit in Wonder Labyrinth and Blade Chimera hold "Very Positive" ratings on their respective Steam pages, but it's all relative. Once you reach the top of the mountain, there are only two places you can go: down, which obviously sucks, or you defy everything and sprint across the mountaintops. That reminds me, I need to set aside time for Drainus. Still, I recognize the dangers of idle speculation and attempting to create false narratives, even if they're limited to a blog that isn't a blip on anyone's radar. Team Ladybug is unquestionably one of the best to ever do it. Their "good, but not as good as..." games are still awesome. I'll also go ahead and say that even when they stumble - which usually requires a microscope to spot - they still show considerable growth as a developer. If the rumored Touhou Luna Nights 2 ever materializes, it'll be very interesting to see what they come up with. 

With that nonsense out of my system, allow me a minute or three to talk about what makes Touhou Luna Nights sensational. The premise is simple. Players take control of Sakuya Izayoi, a maid who controls the flow of time. Seeing as how this might be too much power for one protagonist, her master Remilia has created an alternate Scarlet Devil Mansion. Here, the maid's powers are considerably limited. If she has any intention of escaping, then she'll have to make do with the rigors of running, jumping, throwing knives at superhuman speeds, hovering, and slowing time for a few seconds. In case it wasn't obvious, Sakuya is still a force to be reckoned with. The nerfs are just to keep her from compressing the fake mansion into a cube or flying straight to the exit. After a bit of exploration, she'll meet up with Nitori, who presents her with a time-stopping watch. Its powers are also limited, as "time" ticks away with Sakuya's every action. Nevertheless, it's an essential tool for puzzle-solving, and can give the maid an advantage in difficult battles.


Another limitation I conveniently forgot to mention earlier is that Sakuya's throwing weapons have a cost attached to them. When time is moving normally, that cost is MP. During a time-stop, the maid is allowed X amount of thrown objects (this can be upgraded). Also, since there's an inherent tick cost with every action, one must plan their moves in advance. Depending on the enemy's next action, you might have to give up some ticks to get out of their way, then perform the counterattack. Creating an insurmountable wall of knives to unleash upon the nearest yokai is always a visual treat, but it's also part of a grand strategy. While it isn't required, proper resource management makes the gameplay much smoother. Sticking exclusively to normal-time attacks will drain Sakuya's MP at a rapid pace. Through smart usage of her time-stop, she can maintain a prolonged assault. There isn't much that can survive a knife parade with intermittent bursts of powerful time-stop attacks.

Central to all of this is grazing. During normal-time, getting close (real close) to enemies and their projectiles will replenish HP. There's a limit on how much a single object can be grazed, but it's still possible to turn a stream of fireballs into a huge restorative, provided you don't actually touch one of them and suffer a big loss. While under the effects of time-stop, everything in the immediate vicinity restores both MP and ticks. This means that as long as you can avoid damage - or ignore the desire to recover - then Sakuya will have an endless fount of resources to attack with. Trust me when I say that I'm making all this sound far more complicated than it actually is. Just about everyone will have a firm grasp of the basics before they complete the first stage. A typical Touhou Luna Nights playthrough takes 3 or 4 hours, and even its most complex mechanics don't bog down any part of it.


While it's not quite as simple as choosing a stage from a list, this game's Metroidvania elements are fairly light. The five stages are non-linear to the extent that Sakuya is liable to move in one direction to grab a traversal power or key, then she'll move in a different direction to fight the boss. Progression is a simple matter but made interesting via a decent variety of combat-centric or puzzle-heavy sections. The game doesn't waste time with purposeless hallways. Navigating over spike beds or through obstacles - which often require some time-manipulation - is made effortless thanks to the perfect controls. I mean, this is a Team Ladybug game, not some early 90s shlock from Telenet. Moving around, evading danger, all of the essentials are handled with expertise. To improve upon perfection, the developer gave Sakuya a very personable way of moving and fighting. Some of the lovely details include the way she hovers in midair while throwing knives at a downward angle. Every action befits the grace one would expect from a time-manipulating maid. 

Gamers who habitually attack walls will sometimes uncover secrets. Most provide upgrades to Sakuya's HP or time-halting abilities, but there are a few special weapons to find as well. Stun knives are more powerful than their name suggests, as they create huge bolts of electricity when they collide with something. Combine them with time-stop to cleave huge chunks out of bosses. Chainsaws fly in a Belmondo-like arc and gnaw away at their targets. Symphony of the Night fans are bound to notice something familiar in the Lost Sword. It auto-attacks all things destructible, which can be good for discovering hidden rooms. Making the most of each weapon isn't necessary to finish the game, but they add personality. Their sizable MP costs also add to the learning curve, giving players an additional incentive to manage their resources. Very smart stuff.


Although bosses are few in number, they are among the highlights of Touhou Luna Nights. Every battle is memorable and thrilling. It's here that the grazing mechanics can really shine. Even struggling players can remain in the fight if they stumble around a long series of projectiles. The constant shifts in HP create a push/pull dynamic that keeps the action engaging. However, barring a few couple exceptions, the level of difficulty might not impress professionals. Those who manage to finish both the main quest and the extra stage may want to devise some limitations for a future replay. The most obvious is forgoing the time powers, but I've read about enterprising lunatics who edited the game to give Sakuya 1 HP or take away her grazing ability. That's uh... definitely not for me. Team Ladybug's games aren't implicitly designed to create stress, so applying ultra-harsh punishments to minor failings is too much. Besides, there's enough value in learning each fight and employing the right combination of special weapons to crush a mighty foe in literal seconds. 

One of the more curious elements of the game is its gem economy. Defeated enemies drop gems in a multitude of colors. Each of them boosts a particular stat, such as attack, defense, grazing effect, etc. The catch is that any noticeable improvement is going to require hundreds if not thousands of gems. 99.999% of the time, you're better off selling everything. Increasing the number of ticks available during time-stop will make Sakuya a far more effective killer. It can also take more than a couple of level-ups to see a noteworthy increase in strength, so save the grind for when literally nothing else is enough to get past a boss. 


My few complaints mostly revolve around the UI elements. It's important to have both visual and audio cues, but the voices heard when grazing or after MP/Time has recovered are a little overdone. In fairness, this isn't something that actually started to bother me until the Extra Stage's end-boss. For the longest time, I thought it was really cool how "Grazing" sounds so much like "Grace". Hearing multiple voices slam together while trying to avoid the one hit that'll put Sakuya in a grave is when I wished for some kind of respite. Also, not UI related, but damn there is a ton of screen-shake to deal with. My preferred special weapon was the stun-knife, and every single use of it causes a minor tremor. I think it's a bit much. 

Mainly though, Touhou Luna Nights is an extremely svelte and polished adventure. Nothing about it is extraneous or wasted. It's a series of great ideas executed perfectly. From beginning to end, I wouldn't change a single thing. 

...

I don't know what else to add. They fucking nailed it. 

Saturday, October 3, 2026

Computer Gaming Look - Final Fantasy Renaissance


Let's start today's look with a bit of nostalgia. Final Fantasy 1 was my very first RPG. I remember button-mashing during battles thinking that it'd help me hit the monsters. It wasn't until I was nearly 25% through the game that I realized weapons and armor had to be equipped. Yeah, thanks to dumbasses like me, there's always an NPC hanging out in shops reminding players to equip their purchased equipment. After many, many struggles, I finally reached the Shrine of Chaos; then someone started a New Game and erased all of my progress. Since that traumatic event, I have always saved in two slots, no matter the game or genre. There's no such thing as being too careful. Someone could break into my house and overwrite one of those saves. 

Between emulation and the absolute deluge of ports, I've taken every imaginable opportunity to revisit this classic. Over that long period of time, I began to gain a real appreciation for its quirks and limitations. The NES original is notoriously buggy, with several weapons, status effects, and spells failing to work properly; not that any of those issues ever bothered me. Go ahead, Kraken, waste your turn casting Ink. Anything's better than seeing one of my wizards take seven tentacles to the face for all of their HP. There were a few ideas that didn't quite pan out, and perhaps they contributed towards what makes the game so memorable. Who cares about elemental affinities and all of that other fluff when a White Mage stacked to the 9s with buffs can solo Chaos. Though I've never been a part of that community, I admire the hell out of those who've figured out all the ways in which FF1 can be broken. It's a beautiful game, even with all its intricacies laid bare and exploited. 

Skipping the Wizard fight and swiping the CROWN.

There's also something marvelous about its map design. From Marsh Cave onwards, each dungeon is multiple floors of nastiness, with encounters that vary from punishing to outright cruel. A swarm of cocktrices could turn up at the worst time, rendering an entire party to stone before they get a chance to act. Sorcerers, which were probably supposed to be endgame monsters, can appear as early as the Ice Cave. Their ability to stun entire parties and OHKO them is ludicrous. Most ports offer save-anywhere or some other feature that prevents huge losses in progress. Early on, I greatly appreciated the convenience. Losing everything to a cheap ambush is rude. Thing is though; I can't call it bad game-design. To be an adventurer is to leave my life up to chance. When I enter some den of evil that hasn't been explored in centuries, I can't assume that anything will go my way. Redoing an entire dungeon because of some bad luck on the final floor doesn't bother me... except when it does. All of the walking and random encounters eat up a lot of time. Not to mention there are countless RPGs that I could run away to if get fed up with FF1. 

Perhaps, what I really need is a version of the game that's willing to meet me halfway. Enter Final Fantasy Renaissance, the PC-only rendition that retains the original's purity, while offering just the right feature-set to ensure my time never feels unappreciated. Basically, I run the game at 4x speed and never feel a tinge of guilt. If six sorcerers on the hallway right before Tiamat want to spill my innards everywhere, then they're welcome to. Sea Shrine ghosts hitting harder than four giants glued together doesn't bother me anymore. At worst, I'm out a few minutes. I can figure out where I went wrong, without suffering the agony of menus and battle animations running a little too slow for my frameskip-obsessed ass. 


What elevates FF1R to celestial heights is the huge selection of jobs. Part of what gave the original its staying power is the viability of every job combination. I'm not cut out for the solo White Mage life, but I did a quick playthrough of the Pixel Remaster with all Karate Masters (having to grind a bit to punch through Chaos' inflated HP kinda sucked ngl). Renaissance takes that mindset and applies it to a HUGE selection of new jobs. As of version 2.3, there are 22 jobs to build a party with. All of them, originals included, are flush with unique skills and even sidequests. Chemists gather ingredients while exploring, which can then be used to create potions far more powerful than the measly HEALs found in shops. Engineers use FF6-style tools in battle, but that's not all! They get a full-on crafting system where they create unique equipment or augment existing gear with parameter-boosting gems. Explore the world as a Bard or Dancer and you're bound to learn some top-tier support skills. If that isn't enough, then put her dual-wield skill to use and turn the veteran Dancer into a top-tier killer.

Adding to the flavor of each adventure is that multiple jobs have unique traits. One of the most notable belongs to Time Mages. Their float spell can be used to fly over: damage tiles, encounter tiles, random encounters, and rivers! With just a little bit of planning, you can save yourself a second trip through the Earth Cave, and bully Lich with a promoted team. Bats got you down? Become a Death Knight and devour them for permanent stat-boosts. Thieves can find secret items in every locale. Fun for the masochists who want to explore every inch of the Ice Cave and Chaos Shrine.

Glow Moss is one of the chief ingredients for WARP stones. Handy for escaping dungeons.

The fact that everyone has insane potential doesn't take anything away from the game. Yes, having an Engineer who'll erase an Elemental Fiend with four sawblades to the face might sound like overkill, but... that's just Final Fantasy 1 working as intended. Renaissance recognizes that someone with the power to destroy the biggest boss in a couple of turns or less is the personification of beauty. It places innumerable possibilities in the players' hands, then steps back and watches the results. At the same time though, it avoids the pitfalls of making the adventure too easy. Sorcerers, mancats, and countless others will destroy parties. Furthermore, the game can't be saved mid-dungeon, so the most emotionally draining treks have to be made without any crutches. Achievement hunters are free to push themselves even further by playing solo, avoiding potions or free-use items, and so much more. 

Also, I just really like having this as a comfort game. After years of semi-consistent play, navigating FF1's world and its dungeons feels a little like navigating my own living room. Having countless jobs to explore, as well as the synergies available to certain combinations, makes for an incalculable number of fresh experiences. After a long day of living, I can fire up my favorite playlist and relax with something that's equal parts familiar and new.


I forgot to mention that Engineers can customize their tools to create different effects. Awesome stuff.



Wednesday, September 30, 2026

Super Nintendo Look - Tecmo's Secret of the Stars


Back when I mentioned that I was playing through Tecmo's Secret of the Stars, at least a couple of people chimed in saying that it's a mediocre Dragon Quest clone. I, forever the optimist, thought to myself "Hey! That sounds good to me! It's impossible to screw up Dragon Quest." That was an honest-to-Baphomet thought, because I purposefully ignore the reasons why DQ games tend to be a tier or two above their contemporaries. Chunsoft's classic RPG series is a lot more than just towns, dungeons, and turn-based battles. Each adventure moves at a comfortable pace, so players can spend anywhere from three hours to fifteen minutes and still accomplish something. Sure, the need for cash and experience leads to a lot of grinding, but fights move quickly. Who knows? Maybe some metal slimes or babbles will appear, and the next fight will be a huge score. To me, the games work so well because there's always something to look forward to. The next town is going to have interesting gear in the shops as well as some fun NPCs to talk to. Each building is liable to contain items hidden in pots and dressers. A new piece of equipment always feels like a substantial upgrade. There is so much about DQ that works wonderfully, but the only mainline entry I've ever finished was IV. As of this writing, I'm 25 or 35 hours into XI and haven't touch the game in months.

One day, I'll have to sort out my personal demons, because there's no reasonable explanation for continuing to ignore Dragon Quest in favor of clones. That might lead me towards blog posts where I cover the same games and have the same opinions as everyone else, which would suck. Something has to change though, because who knows what'll happen if I end up with another RPG as dull as Secret of the Stars. A dull unfulfilling lump with half-assembled features and less than 30 minutes of excitement. Others might have tolerated this because of the nostalgic feelings it evokes, but all I had was a fast-forward button and screwed-up priorities.

I fought way too many of these guys.

As per usual, the hero's story begins with a tale of the grand destiny that awaits him. He must scour the world for four unique individuals. Together, they'll form the Aqutallion, the only force capable of stopping Homncruse. Along for the ride are the Kustera. They basically function as a second party. I'll give Tecmo some credit for the two-party system, as it is pretty ambitious. There's just one problem: Kustera doesn't do anything. Several dungeons feature gates that can only be opened by one team or the other. Without fail, Aqutallion's gates always lead to the bosses and the plot advancement that follows their defeat. Areas exclusive to Kustera contain additional treasure, and that's it. I am being slightly unfair, as there are a handful of locations that party #2 must visit to obtain key-items. The final dungeon is also a series of simple door puzzles that both parties participate in. In the end however, it's Aqutallion that fights every last meaningful battle.

I can understand, to an extent, why Kustera is relegated to side duties. This motley collection of knights, priests, fighters, and thieves never gain the ability to perform unite commands. If I could borrow a word from an RPG I should've played instead, unite functions a little like dual-tech. One hero attacks with a unique weapon, and the other casts a low-level spell that shares its element. More precisely, Ray uses fire magic to enhance the effects of Cody's fire sword. Their combined actions result in Burn Blade, an immensely damaging skill that becomes the duo's bread & butter for several boss-fights. Aside from the awkward implementation - unite commands are set after the party's orders have been decided - this is the preferred way to deal with anything that doesn't die in a few hits. Endgame fights are typically a race against the clock, the clock being the healer's remaining MP. Uniting is one of the only ways to deal triple-digit damage, an essential part of staying ahead of the clock. 


In spite of Kustera being all but useless in a real battle, they still demand experience, cash, and time. Time invested on them is time wasted, as it's much better spent on the heroes doing serious work. Secret of the Stars is a brutal grind, and giving players nearly a dozen characters who can't even fight a boss just comes off as selfish. I mean, shit. Let's bring Dragon Quest IV back for a second. There's an RPG with several playable characters, all with specialized talents, and any combination of them can be used to battle end-game villains. If you're going to clone a game, at least do it justice. 

Further emphasizing the grind is that there's no good reason to fight battles while exploring a dungeon. Monsters, spellcasters in particular, are resource hogs. Unless a party is comically over-levelled, they'll spend a big chunk of their MP recovering from a single bout. The encounter rate is also screwed, with a new battle sometimes occurring one or two steps after the previous one. As such, the player is better off having "grind sessions" in some corner of the world where fights are easy and the experience is... not atrocious? Figures I'd get the one 16-bit RPG without rare enemies that drop tons of experience. Anyway, go do a grind, then enter the dungeon and run from everything. Running has a success rate of 99% and is one of the game's few remarkable qualities. However, if you're someone who believes that random encounters are a legitimate method for helping the party keep pace with the continually strengthening monsters as well as the villains that lord over them, then avoid this. 


Two of the few reasons why I put up with all of this nonsense is the messy story and sometimes hilarious translation. For most of the adventure, nobody bothers to question why the main character is dressed like Buck Rogers and blasting monsters with a shotgun. Also, he manages to destroy almost as many villages as Homncruse. Entering an armor shop to purchase "chainmale" is a treat. A civilian on the outskirts of a late-game town makes a surprisingly profound statement. Still, speeding or suffering through a couple thousand battles just for a handful of amusing moments really isn't worthwhile. 

By the by, if you do intend on playing through this, hoard all of the moon-drops. They're full MP restoratives that'll make the final battle go so much smoother. Homncruse can dish out 100+ damage spells to the entire party in back-to-back rounds. That's game over unless the healer is working nonstop. Anyone who used up all their moon-drops earlier might have to grind final dungeon encounters for the 1/256 chance of receiving one as a rare drop. Yep. More grinding.

Your time is better spent elsewhere.