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.

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. 

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.

Check it out sometime.

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

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.

Super Nintendo Look - Operation Logic Bomb

Somewhere in the periphery sits Operation Logic Bomb, a Jaleco game about interdimensional robot crabs that have taken over a research facility. Your mission is to destroy the crabs, their anomaly-producing generators, and literally anything that isn't immune to bullets. This "ultimate search & destroy" isn't the sort where you can just run around with your gun all a-blazing. For starters, you play as a cyber-soldier who can't dash, side-step, run, or dodge-roll. He shoots and maybe he strafes. Rushing towards enemies is just going to drain that big beefy health meter of his. If you want to save the day, then you'll have to be methodical. Use cover or find places to stand where enemy fire can't reach. If you can shoot them from around a corner, then that's even better. New weapons are obtained at set-points, allowing more ways to deal with problems without exposing oneself to danger. Players who utilize the environment and logic to decimate their foes will get far. 

I can't think about this game for more than five minutes without the words "Survival Horror" popping into view. True, there's not much in the way of horror. Killer robots tend to appear where there's crystalline hexagonal subspace, ruling out any potential jump-scares. Also, since progression mostly revolves around going from room-to-room clearing everything in sight, the only tension is going to come from having a low amount of health and no idea when the next recovery station will appear. By the way, stations can only be used once, so at least there's a survival element to work with. Although I don't think it'll matter too much for the average gamer. Most of the challenge is crammed into the last third, as that's when stations are really hard to come by. Oh, and I guess it's hard to do Survival-anything when the ammunition is unlimited. 

Pictured: The story

It sounds like I'm just throwing shit at the wall, doesn't it? Yeah. This is what happens when I cram 75% of the review into the first paragraph. In all seriousness, the reason I keep wandering back to Survival Horror is because I have this strange belief that Operation Logic Bomb could've been an all-timer if it had released during the genre's boom period. There's already a framework. Cyber-soldier enters a lab that's about to be crushed by the crustacean dimension. Keep the minimalist storytelling, create some dark atmospheric lighting, and put more of an emphasis on solving problems instead of just clearing the immediate area of robots. I'd also like to see a bunch of science guys getting - oh I don't know - pulled apart by claws. Maybe lean further into the interdimensional stuff. I think I would be sufficiently freaked out by sudden wormholes that spewed out killer robots. Better yet, let's get a few giant crabs with big pincers reaching through time and space just to crush the hero. 

Those are just some random ideas. I'm afraid I didn't put any thought towards how the game would actually play. Adapting various guns that can rebound off of walls or shoot around corners probably doesn't gel with a Resident Evil-esque perspective. Maybe I'm just not imaginative enough. Better to discuss the game that exists while large rusty hooks attempt to drag my head out of the clouds. Jaleco skillfully made the most of the limited variety of enemies. Pacing is solid throughout, with the only sticking point being that the destination isn't always 100% clear. It's impossible to get stuck, but one could waste a few minutes jumping between floors.

The one other potentially significant issue is the second boss. It's the hardest part of the game. Unless every one of your actions is perfect, you're likely to enter the arena with half health. Then again, a full healthbar likely won't fare much better, as there are a limited number of workable strategies. The one I settled on involves using the rebound laser and some cover that blocks a lot of the giant lobster-thing's bullets. I probably shouldn't give so much info away, as dying to a difficulty spike four times in a row and having to start over helps build character...or something. Then there's the final boss. Not quite the easiest part of the game, as its lightning will erase life in milliseconds, but anyone who survived the first 45 minutes is going to solve this last predicament with little trouble.

So... yep. Operation Logic Bomb. It's a decent little game. A bit lacking in replay-value, but solid as concrete hell. This atypical shootemup is unique enough to warrant a playthrough. Unfortunately for myself, I'll never be satisfied until it's transformed into a Playstation 2 game that plays like Dino Crisis, but with less tank controls and more crabs. 

I am in total idea guy mode, and it sucks.

Super Nintendo Look - Genocide 2

After an hour or so of this inadequate port of an X68000 classic, the thought hit me that maybe I should pursue the genuine article... or at least as something as genuine as emulators could allow. ZOOM was a seriously underrated developer, and I'm doing their legacy a disservice with these Super Famicom write-ups. I should be looking at their X68000 library, the Zero Divide series, or even Mister Mosquito. Actually, maybe not. The last thing I should be thinking about is all the things that I should be doing. No doubt one of those shoulds is "should not have started a game review blog". 

Genocide 2's port was handled by Bits Studios. Curious that Kemco would opt for a British company to a produce and translate a game that wouldn't leave Japan, but it's not as if Bits was an unknown. They've previously worked with the likes of Taito and Irem, porting their arcade titles to the Game Boy as well as other platforms. I can't vouch for accuracy, but I'm a little familiar with their version of GunForce. It's not very good. As always with these looks, I want everyone to keep in mind that the apologies are baked in. Porting games to underpowered hardware is an unenviable task, and I admire everyone who takes it on. At the same time though, I'm going to be harsh. That's my nature. Thus, when I look at the X68000 and Super Famicom versions of Genocide 2 side-by-side, then recall my time with the latter, all I can think is "Damn. Damn, damn damn damn damn!" 

The game is divided into five stages, which are then cut into multiple areas (never more than three). You're piloting Goliath; ten stories of giant robot awesomeness. In spite of its size and apparent weight, the robot moves with the deadly grace of a ninja master. Accordingly, its weapons are limited to a short-range energy blade and Betty. The blade is self-explanatory, but Betty is rather unique. When the requisite gauge has filled, Goliath can throw Betty in eight cardinal directions like some 23rd century windmill shuriken. It won't stick around forever, but at least long enough to deal with a slew of enemies or boss. Various one-time sub-weapons can also be found on the field. Mad Betty fires a special homing sphere that continually bashes foes. Explode does immense damage to everything onscreen. Shield makes Goliath untouchable for several seconds. Save these for bosses and your struggles will be few.

Since clearing an area is contingent on slaying a set number of enemies, combat represents the bulk of Genocide 2. Unfortunately, this is when the ports' failing become apparent. Due to the weapon's extremely short range, most contact just results in robots clumsily bumping against each other. Successful interactions, such as destroying a foe without taking damage yourself, don't feel earned. The issue is made worse by the weak hit feedback. In the X68000 version, striking an enemy causes them to flash briefly. It's a simple indication that adds so much to every encounter. While there are other audio and visual effects when an enemy takes damage, the SFC version's missing flash is a huge loss. 

Adding to combat's woes is all of the slowdown. If Goliath, Betty, and at least two other robots are onscreen, then the game will crawl until at least one of those parties is out of the picture. There's always an ideal method for dealing with each enemy. Finding the right spot to stand in, mashing the attack button at the correct moment, etc. However, the ideal method gets dull, and players want the thrill of expertly leading a giant ninja robot through intense scenarios. That hardly ever happens, because the poor combat mechanics and technical faults turn would-be exciting encounters into a mishmash of clunky collisions. It reminds me of Bits Studios' GunForce port. That's a run & gun where neither the running nor gunning feel right. 

This version of the game also features more platforming segments. The one positive is that at least there aren't any bottomless pits or spike-beds. They just had to have some disappearing blocks though. One of the areas consists of magnetic devices, small pellet-spitting tanks, and flying vehicles that fire the instant they're onscreen. It's enough to make me question my life choices. Not just the reviewing, but playing games as whole. 

Just play the X68000 original. 

Super Nintendo Look - Arcana

Arcana takes place on Elemen island. A land so sacred and beautiful that no less than six nations are vying for control over it. Their endless warring has claimed many lives, including Rooks' parents. Also, monsters have reappeared, somehow. Maybe they're just attracted to the bloodshed. In an effort to protect his homeland from further destruction, Rooks throws his lot in with the adventurers Alan and Teefa. They're heading to the nearby Balnea Temple, a source of evil in need of cleansing. This game is what I would consider to be an atypical dungeon crawler. Though its first-person perspective should associate it with the likes of Wizardry, The Bard's Tale, and Shining in the Darkness; there is a distinct absence of obstacles to navigate or puzzles to solve. Instead, it's a uniquely straightforward DRPG that's designed for instant-action. Players don't have to draw maps, but they will be seeing a lot of combat. 

Before continuing, I should point out that my playthrough was done using the Seal of Rimsala romhack. As noted by the description, this hack provides a better-translated story that's easier to follow, along with a handful of QOL features, bugfixes, FASTrom implementation, and more. The reviews overwhelmingly consider this the definitive way to play, and I'm in no position to argue otherwise. Perhaps I could've played the unaltered original, but what good would it have done if all my (hypothetical) complaints were addressed by the hack? No. It's best to go with the definitive version and find new things to complain about. 

In any case, Arcana is divided into five chapters, each containing one dungeon that must be explored and conquered. Note that while some dungeons contain multiple biomes, there aren't any shortcuts or key-items that provide access to later areas. This is, ignoring the treasure-laden detours, a strictly point A to point B excursion. Even though dungeons must be cleared without the conveniences of warp spells or interim saves, they're usually small enough so that rushing straight to the end takes very little time. Of course, players who choose to rush will be roadblocked by the next boss. There's no avoiding the customary random encounters that must be grinded for experience and cash. Driving this point home is the fact that every hero who allies with Rooks isn't carrying any equipment. Darwin, whose defining characteristic is having a large sword, isn't actually equipped with one when you recruit him. At least the romhack tends to place useful equipment in the dungeon, so you don't always have to return to town just to outfit some idiot recruit.

I'll go ahead and share a bit of advice that someone related to me when I started the game for the first time: Don't get too attached to your allies. Most will quit after a chapter's completion, leaving behind whatever you obtained for them to be handed off to the next hero. Rooks also has a habit of striking out on his own, fighting battles that probably would've been easier with an extra pair of hands. In short, every stat-up item you obtain should go directly to Rooks. 

Accompanying the last Card Master on every leg of his journey is an Elemental Spirit. At first, Sylph is the only one that can be called upon, but eventually Ifrit, Marid, and Dao will join. All four Spirits have a set of spells that's attuned to their element and replenish HP/MP with every step. For the most part though, all this means for players is having a steady supply of AOE spells. Magic is weirdly expensive in Arcana, so even dedicated casters like Teefa and Sarah don't do much spell-flinging outside of boss battles. Spirits aren't quite as limited, making them invaluable while exploring or grinding. Another talent they have is shifting the party's elemental affinity. Don't mess with this unless you know what you're doing. I shifted my party's affinity to wind during a tough fight only to realize that the boss is strong against it, doubling his damage output while halving mine. Real smooth.

Besides AOEs or heals, the purpose of magic is to coat the allies in buffs and slam the enemies with debuffs. It's a nice aspect of the game that sadly falls out of favor towards the end. The toughest monsters cast non-elemental magic, and there's no debuffing that. Still, it might be worth trying the spells that boost evasion / decrease accuracy. Yes, one might get lucky and avoid a barrage of lightning, rocks falling like raindrops, or even Armageddon. It even saved my life a couple times during the final battle.

On the whole, I'd say the battle system is an interesting collection of quirks. It seems to use a variation on the Active Time Battle system. Turns are supposed to be determined by each enemy and ally's initiative stat. Heroes as well as boss-class monsters also have a latent chance of receiving two turns in a row. In practice though, it just leads to a lot of fights that are oddly difficult to employ any real strategies. For example, during Rooks' turn, he can swap the current Spirit out. It's a neat feature, especially since it doesn't cost him a turn. However, he's unlikely to get the first turn in a battle, which hampers one's ability to exploit elemental weaknesses. This is something that hardly matters anyway, as most fights end with a couple AOEs and/or Rooks hitting like a truck. I just brought it up because Arcana struggles with providing long-term depth. Granted, I say this while ignoring the entire card-usage mechanic. In each town, there's a mystic lady who sells cards that provide various effects. They're probably awesome, but I never used them. Oops.

Despite my issues, I had a good time with Arcana. There was a rare pleasantness in exploring a DRPG-like world without any of the friction. Yeah, monsters with OHKO attacks or spells could've been interesting to deal with, but I know I'd be calling bullshit after one of them showed up on the 10th floor of a tower I'm trying to get through. However, there's no reason for me to defend the lackadaisical dungeon-design. Contemporaries like Shining in the Darkness were far more creative, with some floors being so diabolical that they continue to haunt my dreams. Here it's just hallways, forks, doors, stairs, and sometimes rooms. The pacing is quite good though, so empty unfulfilling corridors aren't that much of a bother.

But yeah, the most I can say is good.

Manhattan vacation photos

Over this past weekend, I visited Manhattan for the first time. Most of the photos I've taken will be published on my other blog.

You can check them out if you like.

The game reviews will resume whenever I feel like it.

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.