2026 Special - Super Ghouls 'n Ghosts - Artoria Edition

Sometime in the past week - or perhaps even a few hours ago - I was visited by a disturbing presence. Without uttering a word, it implanted a thought that I can't rid myself of: Super Ghouls 'n Ghosts is a work of genius. Unless you've dug through the more obscure sections of this blog, you'd never know that I am a GnG hater. Holding a phial of venom for Capcom's hop & toss series just happens to be one of my hobbies. I haven't revisited them in many years, preventing any opportunity for my opinion to soften, let alone change. Such stubbornness is antithetical to whatever values I imagined a games-writer should aspire to, but nobody cares about all that. I'm an unknown who can hold any wackadoo opinion imaginable and never worry about getting called out. 

Seriously, the only reason I've even thought about SGnG lately is because of Artoria Edition. This hack envisions a world where Arthur and Prin Prin never met; or maybe they have, and the princess simply isn't interested in men. Instead, her lover is a lady knight named Artoria. She is, as you would expect, just as determined and talented as Arthur, while suffering the same curse of never being more than two hits away from death. Since the hack fits my 2026 "female protagonist with weapon" criteria, I figured it'd be worth a shot. Early on, this was just a sprite-swap, but features were added with every major update. If my recollection stands, version 3.0 added the Secret Menu, which might have been the nudge that shoved me out of the GnG Hater's Club. 

Normally, Artoria's quest to rescue Prin Prin from the Demon Realm is defined by its restrictions and curious ideas. There are seven stages, and each contain all the expected hallmarks of an action-platformer. Pits of both the spikes and bottomless variety dot the landscape. Whether they spawn infinitely or at predetermined points, monsters must be evaded or destroyed. If the heroine walks or jumps into specific locations, a treasure chest will appear, though its contents vary in usefulness. Armor is of course essential, but the weapons range from amazing to awful. Basket-carrying foes might also drop a weapon. If this causes something useless to block the path forward, then tough luck. As if the pressures of meager armor and bad luck weren't enough, the timer demands constant movement. Boss battles late in the game require a level of patience that the ticking clock won't allow. 

Then there's the whole matter of jumping. One of the more interesting yet understandably divisive mechanics that Capcom came up with is the fixed-arc double-jump. As you've no doubt experienced in other games, fixed jumps require that a chasm can't be too wide to cross, or a ledge can't be too high to leap onto. The limitations are immediately noticeable, and it falls upon the level-design to craft a scenario that isn't just making identical jumps several times in a row. At the same time though, there is comfort in consistency. With a single glance, we can tell if our player-character can make the next jump. What Super Ghouls 'n Ghosts does is introduce a significant number of variables. Arthur (or Artoria) can jump twice, but both jumps are fixed. This creates numerous possibilities, most of which lead to danger or death. If the knight wants to change direction in mid-air, then they'll have to use the second jump. Also, platforms aren't guaranteed to be placed within one or two jump of each other. Stage 3 features a lava crossing that demands accuracy in a way only two expertly timed button-presses can achieve. It's a gutsy decision that gives this game its wonderful identity but can also be a real pain in the ass.

Artoria Edition's Secret Menu works in two ways. One, it's a series of features that allow players to customize their ideal SGnG experience. Two, they're toggleable assists to ease newcomers into a tough game. I won't lie. The instant I started this up; I flew straight to the menu and set everything to ON. Treasure chest locations being marked by a sparkle is a huge boon. Damage that depletes armor level instead of reducing its wearer to skivvies? That gets a hell yeah from me. Artoria can also switch between collected weapons with L & R, which comes with all sorts of advantages. Perhaps the most dramatic feature is midair control. Both the first and second jumps, as well as those rare ledge falls, are left entirely in my hands. I don't have to tell you how freeing it is to cruise over stage 3's lava. If something unexpected happens, I can perform some ridiculous jump to get away. It's a fun way to play, but also one of the first assists I disabled after a couple of playthroughs.

What makes this game so brilliant is its limited jumping controls. I have to consider every possibility before pressing the jump button. If an enemy is capable of firing a projectile, then I must memorize the timing, figure out the best place to stand, and only leap when it's necessary. Every move is calculated, thought-out, and leaves nothing to chance. This is, pardon the lame description, a thinking-person's game. I plan my moves because the jump-button is no longer an escape-button. Only by doing so did I realize that every stage is thoughtfully constructed. They're not so rigid that any dalliance is doomed, but only flexible enough to honor smart decision-making. 

However, it would've been nice if there were less slow-moving platforms that the knight had to ride upon. A not-insignificant portion of the adventure is spent waiting for something to happen. It's a perfect-length game otherwise, and that's accounting for the 2-loop requirement. There are some other nitpicks, though it's the same stuff everyone else complains about; like that one homing shot from the bow that always goes wild and flies in circles. No wonder nobody ever puts down the dagger. Also, occasionally the latter half of stage 4 gets a little weird with the poison gas timing. If I move a little too quickly, I end up in trapped between some gas and those blue spore-thingies. 

Whether it's vanilla or with every one of Artoria Edition's features enabled, I don't believe there's a wrong way to play Super Ghouls 'n Ghosts. Sure, there's a taste to it I spent many years avoiding, but that's entirely on me. There are limitations, and they're handled with purpose, not a mere excuse to bully players into submission. That said, a customized playthrough can be just as enjoyable. Having more allowance to make rash decisions or even mistakes will draw players in. 

Good stuff.

You can shoot Samael with arrows. It works.

Super Nintendo Look - Parodius Da!

It's another one of those days. I'm supposed to be leaving on a vacation to New York City, but right now I can't get my goddamn bed to work. Forces outside of my control have denied me another decent night's sleep. Frustrated and beleaguered, I sit at the desk and wait for words to appear on this screen. Maybe the bed's functionality will be restored if a few of them have anything to do with Parodius. Back in 1988, Konami released a shmup for the- blah. Actually, screw all that. Let's skip ahead a few years to when Parodius Da! was ported to the Super Famicom. 

Fair warning: This write-up was done with the assumption that readers are either well-acquainted with Konami's flagship shmup series or have glanced at one of the seven other times I've covered a Gradius game. 

Everything that needs to be said about this game was spelled out in the full title. Shinwa kara Owarai (From Myth to Laughter) is a clear reference to Gradius III's Densetsu kara Shinwa (From Legend to Myth). This is a shmup designed for Gradius lovers, with all the perks and baggage included. Even if it isn't as committed as its predecessor to breaking gamers into tiny pieces, Parodius Da! often chooses to be delightfully sadistic. All the duckers and dee-01s were replaced with goofy penguins, but their ability to ruin lives was left untouched. One would think that the Super Famicom port would provide respite from its comically difficult arcade counterpart, and they'd be half-right. It's true that Konami packed this with plenty of beginner-friendly features. Players are given seven difficulty levels to choose from as well as the option to start with up to nine lives. They can even turn off the roulette, so the next power-up doesn't throw them headfirst into total anarchy. 

The respite ends on the battlefield, because Konami took the SNES hardware to task in a big way. This game is, outside of specific circumstances, light on the slowdown. There's going to be some grinding when a fully powered Vic Viper is firing away at a Moai battleship, and maybe a bit of stutter when trying to evade walls of bullets. For the most part though, the dreams of being saved by slowdown have disappeared. When the walls close in, there's only one recourse, and it involves learning a stage meter-by-meter until a consistent solution is discovered. Gradius syndrome isn't quite the issue that it once was, but don't be surprised by the surplus of checkpoints that can chew through nine lives in less than a minute. 

There's undoubtedly someone reading this who has far more experience with Parodius Da! than I, and hopefully they're nodding in approval when I say that I'm not overselling this game's difficulty. Now, it might not seem like it at first, especially for those who stick exclusively to settings 1-3 and avoid the second loop, but... okay this is where complications start making their way in. This game is uneven. Oftentimes, the unevenness is deliberate, a method of subverting expectations. Chi Chibinta Rika, the Vegas showgirl, acts much like the giant crabs seen at the end of Gradius... except she appears in stage 2. Also, despite an early encounter, the game still treats players as if they're professionals by having several penguins run in and lob bullets. As with most other bad situations in this series, there's a small window to escape. Either you find it, or you repeat the checkpoint. The dance with Rika is a guarantee that everything afterwards is going to push your reactions and initiative to limits unknown. However, there's only so much an uneven game can teach its players.

Let me jump straight to the point: Stage 6. Despite taking place in a pinball machine, there's only one gimmick worth noting and it's that roulette power-ups are very common. There's something almost mean-spirited about giving one of the game's hardest stages an infusion of chaos, but whatever. Stage 6 is essentially a tribute to Nemesis. By Nemesis, I'm referring to the North American version of Gradius, with the rank that spirals into absurdity in less than 10 minutes, turning the earliest stages into improbable bullet-hells. There is nothing here except rows upon rows of the fowlest creatures, and they're covering the screen in a web of projectiles. Technically, this is a speed stage, so everything whizzes past in a little over a minute. A dozen things can go wrong in that amount of time, causing lives to disappear in seconds. I mean, this is a checkpoint shmup! One would think that a life could last a little bit longer than- nope. Several of my deaths can be described as: "unceremonious bullet to the back". Again, there aren't any real gimmicks, which means no setups, no payoffs; just enemies fucking my shit up. It's out-of-pocket, even for a game dedicated to Gradius lovers. 

While I'd argue its absurdity peaks with stage 6, Parodius Da! manages a pretty nasty followup in the form of Stage 8. This ice cavern opens with a chokepoint, then proceeds to line its walls with an unending series of penguins. Somehow, that wasn't enough, because most of the action occurs underwater. The dramatic decrease to speed makes recovering from death a special sort of horrific. Also, due to the rank system, whatever modest success I had earlier is thrown back in my face a dozen-fold. If stages 7, 9, and 10 feel reasonable, then it's probably because 6 & 8's pounding caused the rank to decrease a bit.

I think this a really good game, but it's also not as *fun* as I remember. The weird stage progression and shifty difficulty makes it hard for me to connect with. Granted, the sequels also might've spoiled me with their instant respawn options and large roster of playable characters. Ah well. The bed started working again, so I'm going back to sleep.

My stage 6 "strategy" is hoping for a green bell.

Super Nintendo Look - Sonic Blast Man

After choking down far too many minutes of Sonic Blast Man, I'm starting to wonder if I spent my entire life taking advantage of beatemups. Here is a genre that only works because of those willing to walk right up to some hot-blooded warrior and get punched in the face. Imagine if they were all blessed with a second brain cell, and decided "You know what? I'm tired of getting my face rearranged.". From then on, bad guys would only get close enough for their attacks to land. Either the good guys adapt to this stunning change in tactics or spend their remaining lives suffering endless humiliations. Sonic Blast Man must've chosen the latter. His very existence, which is punching things, collapses to dust the instant he walks towards something that doesn't want to be punched. I'm curious as to what Taito expected players to get out of this game. Was this supposed to be a deconstruction of the beatemup? Maybe I'm just mistaking genius for malice. 

In this brawler, players must overcome five episodes of belt-scrolling action. Let's get some of the positives out of the way early. Each episode is a self-contained stage that features a unique set of enemies. Early on, our hero cleans up the streets by pummeling every ne'er do well in sight. Next, he infiltrates a military base and crushes both a PMC as well as a kung fu brigade. The sewers are full of slimy mutants, so stage three is dedicated to clearing that mess up. Robots receive a generous helping of justice (via fists) in the following stage. Finally, there are some space aliens or something. The episodic progression is still distinct and interesting. It's hampered slightly by some enemies sharing uncommon attacks - like leaping offscreen just to land on top of the hero - but is otherwise not a huge deal.

In order to combat this menacing menagerie, Sonic Blast Man has to get close enough to punch them or even closer to initiate a grapple. A successful hit can be followed up with a series of identical punches, which is then followed by a grab. Hold up and press the attack button to launch the enemy. This also creates a wave that knocks down anyone in front of SBM. Holding forward + attack does a wind-up super punch. It's sort of the same thing. If another enemy is sneaking up from behind, then press down + attack for an overhead throw that'll kill two birds with one bird. Grappling sets the adversary up to be thrown aside (or punched) for a quick knockdown, or the player can opt for the punch combo & grab attack. Anyone at critical health is likely to be dizzy the next time they get up. This is the cue to go for a giant wheel that finishes them off. 

Essentially, success or failure hinges on whether our hero is able to reach someone. Most enemies are equipped to attack SBM from outside his reach. He'll eat a counterattack every time he misses a jab. Sounds fair, doesn't it? A beatemup's depth often comes from everything that leads to the punch. Here's where I question Sonic Blast Man's intentions. I'm willing to work within the limits placed on my avatar, but goddamn! He needed something besides miserable ineptitude. This superhero walks and I mean walks like he wants the shit kicked out of him. How a man with Sonic in his name manages to be so slow is bewildering. His jump provides a decent burst of speed, but then he's susceptible to a world of anti-airs. 

Another problem with this supposed superhero is that anyone halfway competent can manhandle him. It seriously doesn't take much. As early as stage 1, there are large dudes who do a solid job of staying just out of reach, only to throw out an instant belly flop with a mile-wide hitbox. Some of stage 4's robots have a charging attack that can't be interrupted, forcing players to approach in a very specific manner. I sort-of see the appeal, but combat gets tiring when every enemy displays this level of capability. The lack of healing items and extra lives is also very odd to see in a console brawler. It sets this expectation that players have to analyze and adapt to so many scenarios, yet the offensive options consist of meager punch, painful walk speed, and mediocre grab. Yes, different people worked on each game, but I can't understand how Taito goes from badass barbarian who slays hundreds of monsters, to badass robot ninjas that singlehandedly kill an entire army, to asshat superhero who dies in back alley fistfights. 

Honestly, I hate everything about Sonic Blast Man. I hate that he wears boxing gloves yet doesn't have a boxer's reach. I hate his bonus rounds that beat the crap out of my arcade stick. 30 revolutions a second to punch a giant crab and receive 5,000 points? Get the fuck out of here! His jump-kick is just the worst. Why is there a clock on his chest? He probably has some asshole catchphrase like "As you can see, villain. Your time is up!" Again, his whole schtick is punches, but he sucks at it. On purpose I bet! He's aware that his every move is being controlled by an otherworldly force, so he acts lethargic until they get discouraged and give up. That... that's fair. If I was in a game and somebody wanted to play me, I'd make their lives hell too. 

Like I said way back, playing this game has made me question my relationship with beatemups. I'm reminded of the time spent with Iron Commando, and how it had to be played in a way that's very deliberate and boring. Now, there are two games that do this, which smells like a pattern. I might be in the wrong, and most other brawlers were setting me up for failure. Nothing is owed. Bad guys don't exist to walk into the path of an oncoming fist. Every victory has to be earned, no matter how insignificant it might be.

...I'm sorry but these elaborate pranks are getting out of hand. The only reason that every adversary feels like Sheng Long is because I'm playing as King Loser Dork. Limiting the player's options until all they can do is walk or grab doesn't result in compelling entertainment. It stifles expression, treating every attempt to draw outside the lines as a punishable offense. Hopefully Sonic Blast Man 2 is better. 

The food is randomized. You might get a turkey that restores all of your health, or an apple that restores one punch's worth.

Super Nintendo Look - Xardion

Since I'm unable to discuss the Super Nintendo's early days without mentioning Xardion, it was only a matter of time until it received a proper blog post. I want to clear the air. My previous posts about ancient rentals gave the impression that Xardion has an infamous reputation. Well, perhaps it does, but not to me. I view it as a functional product; a 4 out of 10 that'll kill a couple of hours.  Players who don't know what else to do with themselves may uncover a compulsion to see this inoffensive sci-fi adventure through. 

Wait. You're still here? Does this mean I actually say something about the game? Ah hell. It's inoffensive! That one word says every- oh right. The way I use it is rather uncommon. Basically, inoffensive games are mundane, mediocre, or just plain bad. What sets them apart from the filth is that they're easy. Failing to prevent a galaxy-ending war just means getting kicked back to the map screen. There are nine stages in total, but hardly any of them take more than a couple of minutes to complete. However, replaying them is required, because each playable character starts at level pathetic. Grinding that first stage for experience and ammo/health refills is how every playthrough goes.

Mankind's fate rests in the hands (and paws) of Triton, Alcedes, and Panthera. Besides the one instance that requires his narrow body, Panthera can be safely ignored until the story decides to kill him off. Actually, I take that back. He can destroy those enemies placed very low to the ground in stage 2. Just don't expect results from his meager special weapons. Alcedes has a time-stop ability that's good for a few occasions but expect Triton to carry the trio through 80% of the adventure. He's the only decent boss-killer and can fire upwards. It doesn't hurt to spend at least a little time leveling everyone for the extra health though. 

No Xardion write-up is complete without a mention of the annoying platformer stage. It's a series of small platforms that are accompanied by moths and boomerang-tossing gremlins. Naturally, missing a jump or getting knocked off a ledge means restarting the stage. It's not nearly as bad as I remember. My most recent visits - as of less than a few hours ago - went restart-free. Having to go through it a second time just to get one part of the ultimate weapon is something I'd still dock points for. Maybe it was done because somebody drew a cool rose and the dev-team thought it'd be a waste if it didn't have any significance.

Goodnight, sweet Panthera.

The last 20% of the adventure is spent with the titular mech. Sadly, it means there's really not much to do besides grinding levels and assembling the ultimate weapon. I kind-of wish that bosses would respawn, just to see Xardion annihilate them. One positive is that final stage's tunnel maze is extremely easy. When the choice comes up, pick the center tunnel to arrive at the last boss. Another game would've tried to create something a little more complex, but not this one. All that levelling took up enough time anyway.

I'll conclude this post by stating that Xardion isn't terrible. It's not good, but I've tolerated much worse. Asmik could've tried putting out a standard action game, limited continues and all, only for me to despise its entire existence. Making 2/3rds of it a repetitive grind was actually the better decision. Annoying platformer stage aside, nothing about it provides a memory that lasts more than a few hours. Oh well. Being forgotten isn't really such a bad thing, at least from my perspective. 

Super Nintendo Look - World Heroes 2

Covering the Super Nintendo port of a Neo Geo fighting game probably isn't the greatest use of my time, but whatever. World Heroes 2 is damn good fun, and Saurus deserves commendation for their impressive work. Every character, every stage, and almost every move was squeezed into a 24-megabit cart. The port's additional features make up for the missing bonus rounds and not-so-amazing music. I also appreciate just how much of the arcade version's shenanigans were carried over. Dragon is still a cross-up machine. Failing to block J. Max's crouching jab could result in a fatal combo. Then there's Rasputin, who continues to bully the opposition with a Cossack dance mix-up. These and many other instances of the cheap stuff are probably why World Heroes 2 is lucky to appear on Mikado Game Center's stream more than a year, and they still run Fatal Fury Special tournaments like it's Street Fighter VI. I argue that it's all part of the charm. 

If I have to describe World Heroes to you, then it's only because this write-up needed some filler. Doc Brown invents time travel, and the first thing he does with it is put a bunch of legendary figures in a fighting tournament. In other words, someone really wanted to see who would win in a fight between Ryoko Tani and Erik the Red. Names were changed to protect legacies and keep ADK from eating a dozen lawsuits. Exclusive to this entry is the deathmatch mode. Instead of a traditional best of three bout, fighters share a seesaw health meter. Each hit you land will increase your share of the meter, and the same goes for your opponent. Whomever loses the entirety of their health is knocked down. They have until the count of 10 to get up. The majority of arenas also feature traps such as landmines or spike-walls. Players looking for a gimmick-free fight can stick to the usual story and versus modes. 

While this fighter has aged quite a lot, I think it's still very playable today. The 14 playable characters suit an extensive array of playstyles. There are plenty of unique moves to learn. Executing them is no trouble at all. Within seconds of choosing Muscle Power, I was nailing every standing 360 attempt. Reflecting fireballs with a well-timed block is a brilliant addition. Rather than eliminate zoning outright, it allows for potential. Several heroes can throw a slow projectile, move in to apply pressure, or see how their opponent reacts. Other unique characteristics make investing in a chosen fighter pretty rewarding. Ryoko has a roll for quickly getting into her opponent's business. Shura can't dash forward, but his back-dash is extremely quick. Even those who can't dash at all (M. Power & J. Max) have tools for closing distance. Though the game is still unbalanced as heck, a lot of work went into making everyone stand out. 

Plus, learning and applying the bullshit is still a lot of fun, especially in deathmatch mode. One arena has bombs placed on both sides. They take a few seconds to respawn after exploding. Rather than wait for that to happen, I try to push my opponent to the other side, preferably using some block-string that they can't easily counter. Another cool trick is manipulating buzzsaws so that they hit the same person repeatedly. Not to mention, slamming a hapless warrior onto a landmine is too good. Again, nothing here can be considered tournament-friendly, and I don't mind one bit. This game works as pure dumb entertainment. 

Even if we're not hurting for ways to play the arcade original in 2026, the Super Nintendo version is still a worthwhile venture. Besides playing remarkably well, it has an extremely useful feature. As soon as you start the game, run straight to the option menu and set the buttons to "SNES". This changes the number of attack buttons from two to four. Normally, if you wanted a light attack, you'd have to tap the button. Heavy attacks were performed by pressing the button down. Trust me, it's easier to have all four attacks readily available. One other notable addition is the speed setting. Compared to contemporaries like Hyper Fighting, World Heroes 2 has always been a little slow. This gives it a nice turbo boost.

As far as the enemy AI goes, I'd say that it's normal for 1994. Keep the difficulty setting at or slightly above 5 for a reasonably tough time. Don't even bother with 8. Instead of making the CPU an input-reading demon, Saurus tweaked the handicap, giving them ridiculous offense and defense. If you're seriously craving an unserious challenge, then just play the arcade game. Better yet, play Samurai Shodown 1. I still have nightmares about fighting CPU Nakoruru. 

There's nothing else to throw in here, so yeah. More people should try World Heroes 2. It's not Perfect (ha ha ha...) but it does have plenty of fun stuff to check out. 

Super Nintendo Look - Rushing Beat Shura

Something I learned from my experience with Rushing Beat Ran is that a lot can be forgiven if the feeling of dropping broken bodies onto pavement is perfect. As long as Wendy is putting fools to rest with her exquisite piledriver, any complaints I have about difficulty balance and overtuned bosses flutter off into space and evaporate. Funny how art can be so simple yet so complex; equal parts messy and elegant. Unfortunately, neither time nor this blog allows for meaningless meanderings about games that I've already covered. Today's look is at Rushing Beat Shura. Those familiar with botched localizations know it as The Peacekeepers, but I'm sticking with the original (fan-translated) game. While the western release doesn't do anything outrageous like turn every other stage into a maze, the cuts made to both the enemy roster and soundtrack are pretty shameful. Besides, you can never have too much Krummbach. 

One of the coincidences of the 16-bit era is that there are at least three brawlers that feature branching paths: Streets of Rage 3, Golden Axe 3, and this game. They just happened to be third entries in their respective series', too. Bit weird how that worked out. Anyway, I'm pretty sure what Jaleco did with their game is the most ambitious. Not only are there multiple routes, but some are accessed by destroying an object or defeating a boss in a certain amount of time. Also, if you can find certain NPCs, your chances of reaching the best ending will increase. Throw in a couple of secret characters, as well as unique bosses that aren't fought anywhere else, and the result is one big intertwining adventure. 

Since Wendy decided to sit this game out, I'm left scrambling for someone to fill the void she left behind. Unfortunately, none of the six playable characters provide as immaculate a blend of speed and power. Kythring has a decent piledriver but lacks reach. His versatility can be summed up as "has a fairly easy time grabbing opponents" and that's it. At least he's not as bad as Jimmy. Built like Frankenstein's Monster, he's so slow that he lost a footrace to a cinder block. Instead of throwing enemies over his shoulder like a normal person, Norton does some wind-up Popeye punch. I don't like him. M-Frame is a cool robot with a nice array of moves. Ultimately though, I'd say this game belongs to Dick and Elfin. The man with mysterious powers has a basic yet effective arsenal, including a damn nice special attack. Elfin has the speed, reach, good crowd-control, and fun stuff like dash-attack and air-attacks that hit multiple times. She's probably the closest Rushing Beat Shura has to a reasonable Wendy substitute, but I don't know. A beatemup hero is more than just their moves. It's all about how they interact with the world. Their ability to skirt the rules and operate on another level.

Compared to its predecessor, this is technical and refined. Healing items are more common, which reduces dependency on the large stack of continues. Enemies have been balanced so they don't hit as hard. Bosses lost the innate evasion that makes them hard to hit. However, if they have the capability, then they won't allow players to abuse grapples. I don't take any Bob for granted, because he will grab and slam me into oblivion. Those who respect the game will discover that a single life can last a lot longer. Play safe, stick to what works, and... meh. It gets overbearing after a while, like there's only two ways a fight can go down, and one of them is wrong. 

Dealing with Bob is simple. You don't go near him, ever. Knock the burly man down, then hit him with knee drops until he can't get up. Otherwise, there's a risk of triggering that phantom grab-range of his. Jump-kicks are a possibility, but he's got a kick of his own that'll easily knock someone out of the sky. Hitting the bastard with a string of attacks sounds like the right call, until he decides to interrupt the combo with a grab. It doesn't take long for the realization to settle in that dash-attacks are the only consistent option. Granted, they have to be performed fairly early, else the player rushes straight into Bob's open arms. Dash-attacks tend to be the safest choice for most encounters. The exceptions are best handled with a decent special attack. Specials drain health, but that just makes for an easily winnable battle of attrition. If there are other ways to win fights that don't rely on the least entertaining moves, then I've yet to stumble onto them.

Also, the games' attempt at being fair are undermined by a second half that's filled with double bosses. I'm sure I brought up the single boss issue in a previous beatemup review, but Jaleco's solution isn't great. Whiffing a jab probably shouldn't lead to getting insta-backstabbed by one of two master ninjas. Their weakness is getting grabbed, but it would've been nice to use other moves, make the fight more dynamic. I put up with Ran's poor bosses because I knew there'd be more minion-bullying afterwards. Once a boss in Shura is taken down, it's back to the process of constant dash-attacks, unsatisfying grabs, and knee drops.

If your beatemup has to be one-dimensional, then make sure it's fun. That way, you get to call it fun-dimensional and annoy everyone on social media. For real though, Rushing Beat Shura has a lot of stuff and some great music, but its moment-to-moment action isn't deep enough to justify letting go of what made Rushing Beat Ran such a blast. Let me indulge in the unbridled awesomeness that is piledriving someone onto a landmine or off of a skyscraper. I'd rather lose a life doing something crazy hilarious than getting grabbed by Bob #32 for the 54th time.

Although, taking a Doomsday Device from the Non-Steiner Bros. is pretty cool.

Super Nintendo Look - Lufia & The Fortress of Doom

Though I often pretend to be a Super Nintendo connoisseur, the lingering fact that I rarely complete any of its non-Squaresoft RPGs shows how meager the illusion really is. Just last night, I finally conquered Lufia & The Fortress of Doom. This is one game that I've started and stopped too many times to keep track. A new playthrough is attempted every few years, yet the instant it gets boring, everything collapses and I swear it off "forever". It's almost sad that I treat being bored as some sort of disease. Granted, this is likely the result of years spent drowning in entertainment options. Going from a handful of videotapes and one game console to dozens of streaming services and a PC that emulates many game consoles has all but irradiated the concept of boredom. If I'm bored, then there's something wrong with what I'm consuming. If I consume it regardless of how boring it is, then does this mean there's something wrong with me?

I wish there was a gentler way to say it, but Lufia 1 is pretty damn dull. The introduction is legitimately great. Starting off with a dungeon that culminates in a boss-rush is a fantastic method for teaching players how the game works. It's just that, when the adventure begins for real, and the first of nearly a thousand battles is life-or-death tussle with the hardiest mushroom, a sickly feeling begins to take root. I have to point out that my playthrough was done using Lufia 1 Restored. Some of the features of this hack include increased walking speed outside of towns and a lower encounter rate. Tempting as it may be, I didn't want to bury the review with typical RPG complaints. In its original form, this game is rather notorious for an absurd encounter rate (though it is mitigated a bit with steady Sweet Water use). Mainly, I want to get across that even if there isn't a battle every couple of steps, it's still the excessive and exhausting core of the game. 

Nowadays, fast-forward renders all complaints about grinding moot, or at least it should. Lufia 1 is a special case, and that's because it lacks auto-targeting. Battles often involve multiple groups of enemies. If the last enemy in a group is defeated, then whomever attempts to attack that nonexistent group will swing at air. You've likely seen something similar happen in Final Fantasy on the NES, which goes to show just how uncommon and dated the mechanic is. Honestly, it's not really a problem, since most adversaries are defeated in 1-3 hits. The (obviously unintended) side-effect of this mechanic is that it makes fast-forwarding through battles an absolute chore. While the game does a relatively good job of keeping battles moving at a semi-brisk pace, it also takes anywhere between 10 and 30 to get a single level-up. At the same time, one can't just hold down some buttons and ignore what's happening, or else the party misses more often than they hit. Even when they're speeding by at 500 FPS or whatever, I see every last MISS! and they all drive me crazy. 

The reasons as to why one would need to grind are a little all over the place. For one, there's actually not that many boss-battles. It's possible to go through several dungeons and not have to deal with anything significant. This is a unique problem, as a regular supply of bosses is needed to assess the party's strength. Some of the toughest battles occur early on, and then nothing of note happens for hours at a time. Without any real idea of what's going to happen next, the inclination to grind takes over. If the game expects to me go so long without a boss, then obviously the next one has to be really tough. Sure enough, that expectation crumbles when the next boss fails to do anything. Convinced that I must be wildly over-leveled, I hurry through the next couple of dungeons and run into something so vicious, that it leaves me scraping the hero's remnants off the ceiling. I just want a little more consistency. 

Further contributing to the grind is that even when I'm actually over-leveled, it doesn't feel like it. Enemies tend to hit hard and are incapable of missing. This brutal combination can rend sufficiently armored warriors into hamburger. In order to die in one less hit, I need five additional level-ups, probably more. That's another hundred battles to sit through. Agility, which affects how long it takes for a party member to get a turn, is countered by the weight of the armor. Basically, I equip better armor to take less damage, but it increases the probability that a monster will strike first or get an additional turn, resulting in more damage. Also, some random encounters can be worse than any boss. As tough as some of these guys get, I'd rather deal with them over a group of water elementals. Getting struck with three 100+ damage spells in a row is brutal. Eventually, I had to accept that I'll be fine as long as it takes more than a single hit to kill someone in my party. Lufia 1 is extremely generous with healing options. 

One abundance that I didn't mind was all of the towns and caves. There's a sort of comfiness in visiting dozens of towns and swiping whatever they keep in their dressers. Same goes for the caves and the many treasure chests that demand to be pilfered. I also appreciate that there are a large number of places to visit after acquiring the boat. Granted, that first taste of freedom is diminished somewhat by being tied to a hunt for seven rocks, but I got to do a couple of things out of order. If my memory is correct, Lufia 2 had guards posted everywhere, preventing the party from doing anything besides the next objective. 

Also, the battles that really mattered were pretty exciting. Even if the strategies can be boiled down to generous castings of drain and mirror, the endgame fights got really tense. I had fun keeping the party in order while they were pummeled by devastating spells and status effects. It would've been nice if every other battle didn't feel like busywork, but I shouldn't talk. I'm somewhat of a king sitting atop his mountain of unfinished RPGs. 

So yeah, Lufia 1 was dull as hell, but there's nothing wrong with it! It's exactly what it's supposed to be: purposeful, adequate, and aesthetically charming. I ask for more because I live in a world that's given me a gazillion distractions. Closing the content sluicegate and allowing myself to express boring thoughts is the only time I feel something resembling fulfillment.