I bought a Sega Master System.

Now that I’ve stepped aside from the games press, I’ve resolved to myself to spend more time enjoying games just for the sake of enjoying them, not because I want to write about them or whatever. This doesn’t mean that I won’t write about them, of course — it just means that my priorities are not “get through as much shit as possible so I can write about something every week/day/hour”.

To that end, this week I’ve been spending some time with my retro systems, which have been going a bit unloved in their dedicated room upstairs for a little while. Yes, I have multiple emulation devices and complete ROM sets for everything up to Dreamcast on my PC downstairs, but there’s still something thoroughly pleasant about playing on original hardware.

In fact, in the case of systems like Nintendo 64, original hardware still provides a superior experience, since today’s N64 emulation still has a certain degree of jank about it — not to mention the fact that no modern controller quite feels like the N64’s weird three-pronged monstrosity.

One system I’ve been meaning to explore for a while is the Sega Master System. I’ve never owned one of these and don’t really know a whole lot about it — and as such, any time I’ve considered exploring the library of games for it that I have on my PC and emulation devices, I never really know where to start. Herein lies another benefit of playing with original hardware: rather than attempting to get everything, you can curate your own collection and discover new favourites one at a time rather than being overwhelmed by choice.

Anyway, my background with the Sega Master System is brief. Growing up, I only know one person who had one: someone I went to school with named Dale. Dale was a curious character in that he flip-flopped between being a cool guy to hang out with and someone I’d consider a friend, to full-on “school bully” status. And he’d do it without warning from day to day; I never quite knew what to make of him. He could burp like no-one else, though, and his mum was nice.

To my recollection, I only ever went over to Dale’s house once during my childhood, but while I was there we spent some time playing on his Sega Master System. I don’t think he had many games — the only one I remember playing was Alex Kidd in Miracle World — but I remember being quite taken with both the system and its games. And it’s sort of stuck in my head that I’d quite like to fiddle around with one ever since… only I’ve never gotten around to it for one reason or another.

Well, I’ve been chatting with some retro gaming YouTubers of late, and I finally got around to watching the work of one of them that I’d been meaning to check out for a while: Dudley of Yesterzine. Dudley’s “thing” on YouTube is taking an individual issue of an old games magazine, going through what it covered and diving deep into one or two of the games and features that were in that issue. It’s enjoyable viewing — plus attempting to anticipate the single “your mum” joke in each episode is always entertaining — but I digress.

The reason I bring up Dudley is that he’s a big fan of the Master System. He refers to it, only partly jokingly, as “history’s greatest console”, and knows a great deal about the system, its library of games and all manner of other things. And it was through seeing Dudley’s enthusiasm for the platform that I decided that now might as well be the time I jump on board the Sega Master System train. Particularly since he was kind enough to send me a couple of loose carts to get me started, even before I had anything to play them on.

I trawled eBay for a bit, looking specifically for a mk1 Master System, since that has an AV out port that allows it to be used with a nice SCART cable, and eventually came across a listing that had a Master System in good condition, one controller, the Phaser light gun and fifteen games, most of which were boxed and with manuals intact. It wasn’t cheap, but it also didn’t seem unreasonably priced, either. So I took the plunge, and it finally arrived today.

I’m thoroughly charmed with it so far. The selection of games I’ve acquired with the system cover a wide selection of bases — including three excellent Sonic titles — and I was delighted to discover that the specific model of Master System I have is the one with the built-in game “Snail Maze” rather than Sonic the Hedgehog or Hang-On. Nothing against either of those games, of course, but you can get them on cartridge; Snail Maze is a proper “exclusive” to that particular hardware revision.

Snail Maze, as a game built in to the ROM-based OS of an ’80s games console, is not a complicated affair — it’s literally just a maze game in which you have to beat the clock — but its simple existence gives the Master System a ton of character and personality. Hell, even the fact that the Master System has an OS that is visible to the end user, unlike any other non-computer console around at the time, makes it stand out — particularly with its friendly, helpful on-screen instructions that encourage you to “ENJOY!” if you switch on with no cartridge in the slot.

The games themselves, too, have a very distinctive feel to them. The Master System’s ability to colour the entire “border” of the screen (much like how the Atari 8-bit and ST could) rather than simply confining the action to a smaller window in the middle surrounded by inky blackness is immediately recognisable, and there’s definitely a recognisable Master System “look and feel” — and certainly no-one would mistake the SMS’ PSG sound chip for the NES’ custom APU. (This isn’t a slight against either of them, just an observation that they are noticeably distinct.)

The control pad is surprisingly tiny, being even smaller than an NES pad but similar in shape, and features possibly one of the worst directional pads ever to exist. It’s not unusable by any means, but its squishy nature means that it’s much, much too easy to accidentally push diagonals, particularly the downwards ones, and in certain games this can be absolutely disastrous if done at just the wrong moment.

The buttons are nice, though, and, squishiness aside, the controller is, on the whole, responsive. It’s a little odd there not being a dedicated “Start” button — the first action button is also regarded as “Start”, and pausing is achieved by pressing a button on the console itself, rather than the controller — but given most games are designed around the two-button limitation it’s not a huge issue.

The Ninja

I haven’t got deep into any of the games just yet, but some early favourites are “Commando, but feudal Japan”, aka The Ninja, and “legally distinct from Pole Position”, World Grand Prix. I also already know that the Master System Sonic games are excellent from when I’ve previously covered them, but it will be great to finally play them through on real hardware.

In terms of collecting, while it’s tempting to try and go for a “complete set”, particularly since the Master System’s total library is relatively small compared to other platforms, I don’t really have the room to store that. Some would argue I didn’t really have the room to start collecting for another console in the first place, but I can make it work.

Anyway, what I’m intending on doing is simply curating a moderately sized but well-formed collection of games that I will genuinely enjoy. I’m not going to lose sleep over the fact Phantasy Star is over a hundred quid — I have multiple other ways to play that — and nor am I going to lust after things that are expensive just for the sake of it; I can live without 8-bit Streets of Rage II if it’s going to be that absurdly priced.

Instead, I’m going to take the opportunity to nab the games that are affordable, and which I feel like I will genuinely enjoy, and then be content with that. And I’m going to take the time to enjoy them just for the sake of enjoying them. I might write or make a video about them at some point, I might not. Point is, it’s completely my decision as to whether or not to do that now — and I’m not going to put any pressure on myself in that regard.

Now, question is, what to add to the collection next…?

I’m coming to the end of an era, and I feel both relief and sadness.

This week is my last week as Editor of Rice Digital, and it’s also my last week as part of the modern games press. I’m not ruling out occasionally writing something either here or on MoeGamer based on things that I’ve particularly enjoyed and want to share, but after this Friday, that’s the end for me on regular commitments to Writing Stuff.

It’s a bittersweet moment, but it’s a step I’ve chosen to take — and yes, just to reassure you, this is entirely my decision — for a variety of reasons. Today I’d like to talk about them a bit in what will likely be a bit of a lengthy post. But I feel like I need to… express some things, even if no-one else actually reads them.

Before we go on, I’ll clarify that my time with Rice coming to a close is because I’m going all-in on a project I absolutely believe in: the Evercade project, which I’ve been involved with for some time now, and which, from next week, I will be a completely full-time, 100% dedicated member of.

Anyway. Let’s start with a bit of Pete backstory for the benefit of those who are newer acquaintances, or who don’t know my full background.

As a child of the ’80s, I was there for the beginning of home computing. Our family were relatively early adopters of home micros, quickly gathering beneath Atari’s standard and remaining loyal to them right up until it simply became more practical to make the switch to IBM compatible PCs.

I don’t actually know the exact reason my family chose to go with Atari, or the circumstances that led to us acquiring our first computer, an Atari 400, as they happened before I was aware of pretty much anything that was going on. By the time I had a vague amount of consciousness and sentience, though, computing was already an important part of our day-to-day life — and that continued.

The early days of home computer culture sounded like they were exciting to be a part of. My Dad and brother would often attend a local “computer club” — inevitably returning with armfuls of pirated software — and my brother had a (relatively) nearby friend who also had Atari computers and was more than willing to share his software with us.

My Dad had been a subscriber to a magazine called “Page 6” since its first issue. This began its life as a newsletter for a Birmingham-based Atari users’ group known as BUG (Birmingham User Group) but the folks working on it decided that they could potentially make something more of it. As such, from the very first issue, they did their best to create something that would be of broad interest to Atari users nationwide, not just in Birmingham.

Page 6 was a great source of information on our computers. It was filled with interesting articles, tutorials and even programs that you could type in and save to disk or cassette. It helped emphasise the fact that a home computer was more than just a games machine, and that in the right hands, it could be a powerful creative tool and a real benefit to the household.

Indeed it was; our Atari computers were always more than just glorified games consoles. We played games, yes, but every member of my family used them for a variety of other reasons, too. My parents used them to help manage the household. My mother used them for creative writing. My father used them for music production. My brother used them for digital art. We all used them to create charming banners and cards with Broderbund’s Print Shop software. And me? I did a bit of everything.

One day, my Dad became fascinated with a new piece of software he’d acquired: Flight Simulator II by subLOGIC. As a lifelong aviation enthusiast, my Dad was incredibly impressed by the seeming accuracy of Flight Simulator II — even despite the technological limitations of the Atari 8-bit — and found himself compelled to pen an article for Page 6 about it. As an enthusiast publication, Page 6 relied on contributions from its readership — and as a longstanding reader, my Dad felt a good means of giving something back would be to tell the rest of the Atari 8-bit community about this remarkable piece of software.

The article was published in the following issue — even getting a bit of cover space — and thus began a long relationship between our family and Page 6. My Dad would continue to contribute pretty much right up until the magazine finally folded in the late ’90s, and my brother would kick off what has, to date, been a long and incredibly successful career in games-related media and surrounding environs by writing reviews of Atari ST games.

As an impressionable child, I was, of course, fascinated by all this — to such a degree that I’d often type up my own reviews of games in AtariWriter on the Atari 8-bit, print them out on our Star SG-10 dot matrix printer, then file them away in a ring binder. My parents would even go so far as to “edit” them for me — a fact that I feel probably played a significant role in my own fastidiousness when editing others’ work today, as well as maintaining my own work to a set of high standards.

Eventually, when I was in my early teens, I finally got the opportunity I’d been waiting for: my Dad had negotiated with Page 6’s editor Les Ellingham (who, incidentally, had remained in charge of the magazine from its very first issue to its absolute final moments) and agreed to let me pen a couple of short pieces for the following issue. It was nothing major — half-page reviews of two budget rereleases from Psygnosis’ “Sizzlers” label — but the feeling I got when I finally saw my words in print was like nothing else.

Over the years, I contributed to a number of other publications, including PC Zone and the Official UK Nintendo Magazine. It never got any less magical to see my words on the page of a magazine you could buy on the newsstands — and back in those days, freelance writer rates were very generous indeed, it has to be said, particularly compared to the pittance offered by most websites today.

Things were changing, though. Internet connectivity was becoming more and more the norm for everyone, and websites were becoming more complex and interactive. One which my brother helped launch was known as 1up.com, and it showed the massive potential there was in building a publication that didn’t just have a passive “writer -> reader” relationship, but rather building a community where not only could the regular staff pen their expert opinions, but community members could also publish their own stuff and discuss it with one another.

It was through 1up.com and the community I found there that I started to find myself seeing a much broader gaming landscape. No longer did I feel constrained to only seek out the games that got good reviews from monthly magazines; discussing things with friends and sharing experiences together helped show me that sometimes it was much more interesting to explore the quirky, weird or flawed games that didn’t get much love from the press — or which passed by completely ignored, in some instances.

Magazines, which were already starting to die off by this point, still held an appeal for me — but this brave new online world seemed fascinating; it looked like a bright future was ahead for video games and the discussion surrounding them.

Over the years, though, something has gone horribly, horribly wrong. We’ve gone from a world where enthusiastic, specialist, knowledgeable writers share their well-informed thoughts about a variety of interesting games to one where outlets are unironically advertising for someone to oversee an AI churning out 200-250 articles per week just for the sake of having “content” on the site.

We’ve gone from a world where a “big release” remains relevant and interesting for months at a time, to one where a title that should be absolutely huge is forgotten about by the afternoon of release day.

And we’ve gone from a world where folks like to share their experiences in the hopes of convincing others to join them on a magical journey, to one where cynicism, bitterness and needlessly aggressive confrontation rules the roost.

Over the last decade or so in particular, I’ve done what I can to try and remain a positive force, celebrating the games that I’ve found particularly fascinating along the way, and especially when they’ve either got a raw deal from the mainstream press or been ignored completely.

I’ve done this both on a personal, passion project basis with MoeGamer, and professionally over at Rice. And I stand behind each and every thing I’ve written.

But I’m exhausted. You know why? Because it feels like no-one gives a shit. I tell people enthusiastically about a relatively unknown game I’ve enjoyed recently, and I’m greeted with silence at best, cynical or outright dismissive responses at worst. Hell, at the best of times I can’t even get the slightest reaction out of people who are supposedly my closest friends when I share something I’ve written.

This is, I don’t mind admitting, deeply saddening, particularly as someone who spent a significant portion of his life desperately wanting to be part of the games media; desperately wanting to be someone who helped chronicle this fascinating creative medium and celebrate its weird and wonderful creativity.

But when it seems that people would rather read SEO-optimised garbage like “Wordle Solution #756” or “How to Beat the K’ok Piz Shrine in The Legend of Zelda: Tears of the Kingdom” than an in-depth analysis of how a narrative-centric game successfully delivers on the ambitious themes it attempts to tackle? It’s hard to drum up the motivation any more. I don’t feel that same pride I once did when I saw my work in print — because I know that these days anything I write is just destined to be lost in the never-ending online “content” noise.

“Content” is king. People don’t “read” any more, they “consume”. And part of the difference between those two verbs is the amount of attention you pay. If you’re reading, you’re actively engaging; you’re learning something; you take something away from it. If you’re consuming, you’re just skimming over something for the sake of it without really taking it in. It’s just another way to fill time, to make existence feel a little less meaningless.

It’s not just writing that this affects, either. Look at the shift towards short-form video that has been happening for the past few years. This is the result of people demanding more and more mindless content and less in the way of things that actually enrich their lives in some way.

People’s attention spans are so shot from garbage like TikTok these days that stand-up comedians are now posting their jokes as individual 2-5 minute YouTube videos rather than expecting people to sit through a 90-minute set. And longer videos are regarded as “good background noise” rather than something you might want to pay attention to.

I detest it. It makes me sad, not just for the folks who have, in the past, worked hard on producing quality creative works for people to enjoy, but also for the idea of “culture” in general. I feel like if we’re living in a world where a significant portion of the population would rather watch some “influencer” bellowing at the camera on TikTok than engage with a thought-provoking work of art, that we’ve gone terribly, terribly wrong somewhere along the line.

Perhaps I’m wrong. Perhaps I’m missing something. Perhaps I’m old now, and I’m just having that same moment previous generations had when things like television and video games came along for the first time.

But as someone who has long believed in the validity of the video games medium as a legitimate form of art and a formidably flexible creative medium, I can’t help but feel like we’re going through a bit of a cultural dark age.

And, having spent so much time trying to resist that tide to seemingly little effect, I’m sure you won’t blame me for wanting to step back and just enjoy things for myself while, through my work, attempting to do good things for the medium in a somewhat different manner.

Christmas is the perfect time for comfy sims.

Those of you who have known me for a while will know that I have long been an advocate of the “comfy sim” — a specific type of video game where, generally speaking, the pressure is off and the emphasis is very much on simply enjoying the experience of doing something that you perhaps might not have the opportunity to do on a regular basis.

My appreciation for the comfy sim started right back in the days of the Atari 8-bit and Atari ST, when my Dad introduced me to subLOGIC’s Flight Simulator II, the precursor to what we know today as Microsoft Flight Simulator. There was no “point” to Flight Simulator II — to such a degree that my father refuses to refer to it as a “game” to this day — but there was something compelling about it. The experience of flying a plane, of going on adventures, of making use of supplementary material (books, in the case of FSII) to enhance the experience — all of it was a powerful stimulant to the imagination.

There were, of course, military flight simulators also, and I enjoyed those a lot too — particularly because many of them were considerably easier to fly than the hyper-realistic Flight Simulator II! They also tended to have much more of a “game-like” structure to them, in that you’d have objectives to complete, merits to earn, medals to acquire and all manner of other things. But at their heart, they were still pretty comfy experiences about imagining you were doing something that you don’t get the opportunity to do on a regular basis.

My comfy sims of preference today are SCS’ excellent Euro Truck Simulator 2 and American Truck Simulator. I’m hard-pressed to tell you which of them is my favourite, because they’re both excellent and have their own distinct appeal elements — but what I do know is that when I want to relax and just not really think about stuff for a while, driving a truck is one of the best things I can possibly do, particularly as I have a nice wheels and pedal setup that really helps with the sense of immersion.

For the unfamiliar, in ETS2 and ATS (as we shall refer to them hereafter), you begin life as an aspiring trucker who owns a run-down old garage in the city of your choice, but who doesn’t have a truck to their name. You begin your adventure by running “quick jobs” for local companies, who provide trucks and trailers for you, and pay any fees you might incur along the way such as road tolls and fuel costs. After a while, though, you’ll crave the freedom that owning your own truck provides — so you can either grind your way up to affording one out of your own pocket (which takes a while) or take out a loan with which to purchase a nice starter truck.

From there, the choice of what you want to do is up to you, within reason — remember that if you took out a loan to pay for your truck, you’ll need to repay that a bit at a time. But if you just want to cruise the roads exploring, you can do that; if you want to take jobs from the companies you stumble across, like a freelance trucker-for-hire, you can do that; if you want to systematically search out the most profitable opportunities in the local area, you can do that; if you want to buy your own trailer and pick up freight directly from the source, you can do that. As you progress, you can even buy and expand more garages, grow your fleet of trucks, expand your empire and be rolling in more money than you know what to do with.

The nice thing, though, is that ETS2 and ATS don’t put any pressure on you to do any of those things that you don’t want to. If the one thing you enjoy is simply driving around, do that — maybe taking the occasional job to cover your daily loan installments. If you enjoy the structured experience of taking jobs, you can focus entirely on that. If you enjoy the management aspect of attempting to build up your company and dominate the entire map with your business empire, you can do that. Or you can do a bit of everything.

There’s no “wrong” approach to ETS2 and ATS, and that’s the core of the comfy sim. It provides a framework and a playground in which you can have fun, but the exact details of that fun are left up to you. It is essentially an imaginative toy in software form — and sometimes it’s just what the doctor ordered.

Gaming Comfort Food

Just recently I have been suffering from what mental health professionals tend to refer to somewhat euphemistically as “low mood” — which is to say I’ve been feeling really fucking depressed. Video games have long been a part of my own personal coping mechanism for times like this, but I’ve been somewhat surprised of late as to the specific experiences I’ve found myself gravitating towards.

In the past, I’d historically try and immerse myself in a thoroughly involving game with a good story to try and get away from feeling bad about everyday life. And don’t get me wrong, that’s still very much appealing, and something I will absolutely continue with until the end of time. But specifically during my most recent depressive episode, I’ve found no greater joy than that which I have discovered in the depths of really old video games. Specifically, Atari 2600 and Intellivision titles.

I didn’t grow up with the Atari 2600 — it was always the poor cousin to the Atari 8-bit home computers that were in our household during my childhood — but in more recent years I’ve come to regard the classic system with considerable fondness. This is a result of a combination of factors: the number of times I’ve watched Mark Bussler’s “Classic Game Room” videos on YouTube, where he seems to hold even the very worst Atari 2600 games with a considerable degree of affection, and the Atari A to Z Flashback project I did myself on YouTube, which involved playing through 150 Atari games, many of which were 2600 titles.

The Intellivision, meanwhile, is not a system I had any contact with whatsoever growing up, but having explored it through a combination of Intellivision Lives! on PS2 and the two Evercade Intellivision compilations — both of which I was heavily involved with the production of on the documentation and testing side of things — I have also come to regard it with some fondness. And there are a few games I find myself continually coming back to.

So just for a bit of fun today, I thought I’d pick out a few games that I’ve been drawing distinct comfort from recently. And if you’re open to the idea of really old games — I realise they’re an acquired taste for many — then I encourage you to give these a go when you’re feeling low. They might just give you the lift you need.

Motocross (Intellivision)

When I first saw Motocross, I thought it looked like a load of old shit. When I first played Motocross, I thought it was a load of old shit. And yet this is probably the Intellivision title I’ve found myself returning to most frequently of late — there’s an undeniably addictive quality to simply chasing your own best times around the three included courses, and on top of that there’s a course editor included for you to make your own challenges.

Motocross is an isometric perspective racing game that was noteworthy at the time of its original release for its relatively realistic physics — indeed, the programmer used to troll people in the office by turning the gravity down really low then giggling as people launched themselves into the stratosphere from the various jump ramps.

It’s slow and sluggish to play and the scrolling is terrible — the Intellivision wasn’t great at that — but once you look past the surface-level ugliness there’s a game that strikes a good balance between accessibility and being technically demanding underneath. I’ve been finding it a great comfort of late.

Enduro (Atari 2600)

The spiritual precursor to The Great American Cross-Country Road Race, Enduro from Activision is an all-time classic for Atari 2600. The concept is simple: you simply have to overtake a set number of cars over the course of a virtual in-game day. If you succeed, you get to keep racing for another day; fail and your race is over. Your aim is simply to record as high a distance as possible on the satisfyingly “rolly numbers” odometer at the bottom of the screen.

Enduro is cool because it’s a simple, early vanishing point racer that plays to the Atari 2600’s strengths and doesn’t try to do anything too ambitious in terms of gameplay. Presentation is another matter, however; this was a noteworthy game back in the day for incorporating a full day-night cycle, variable weather conditions and even a rudimentary form of lighting simulation.

Enduro is simple enough to pick up and play, but massively addictive because of that. You always feel like you might be able to push yourself just that little bit further — and that’s just what you need when you’re feeling a bit low.

Berzerk (Atari 2600)

It may not be the prettiest or best version of Berzerk — the Atari 8-bit version is rather more authentic to the arcade machine, complete with digitised speech — but the 2600 version has a distinct character all of its own, and it’s a ton of fun to play.

For the unfamiliar, Berzerk involves nothing more than moving your little man around and shooting the robots. Clear a room full of robots and you get some bonus points, but stick around too long and Evil Otto comes chasing you down. Like most 2600 games, it’s simple but effective, and it really keeps you on your toes as the pace gradually increases.

Cloudy Mountain (Intellivision)

The Intellivision Collection 2 cartridge for Evercade contains two of the platform’s best and most ambitious games: Cloudy Mountain (formerly Advanced Dungeons & Dragons Cartridge) and Tower of Doom. Both of these are games that I find myself coming back to regularly, but Cloudy Mountain is probably the one I turn to more often if my brain isn’t quite functioning quite correctly and I just want something to fiddle around with for a few minutes.

In Cloudy Mountain, your aim is simple: get your party of three bow-wielding warriors from the little house on the left of the map to the eponymous mountain on the right side of the map. Once there, defeat the two winged dragons guarding the two halves of the Crown of Kings, then grab said Crown and enjoy your well-earned sense of victory. Along the way, you’ll have to explore randomly generated dungeons and find helpful items to traverse the various obstacles on the map, with your only defence being your dwindling stock of arrows.

Cloudy Mountain is one of those games that looks and sounds like it might be quite complex when you first try it, but it’s actually quite simple — and as such it’s a great game to jump into if you just want to play something that doesn’t make too many demands of the player.

Missile Command (Atari 2600)

Missile Command is an inherently stressful game, particularly in its arcade incarnation, but I’ve found the Atari 2600 version on its default difficulty level to strike a good balance between challenge and accessibility. Despite lacking a few features from the arcade game, it plays really well and is an enjoyable game to pick up when I’m not in a great mood.

Most of you reading this probably know Missile Command already, but in case you don’t: missiles fly in from the top of the screen, and you have to blast them by setting off explosions in the sky and catching the “heads” of the missile trails in them. Clear out a wave and you get bonus points and the action accelerates. You lose when the six cities you’re supposed to be defending get nuked — an inevitability in a game like this, as Missile Command is at least in part a depiction of the futility of nuclear war.

I didn’t enjoy Missile Command a ton when I was younger — and I would have probably written the 2600 version off purely for being on the 2600 — but in more recent years I’ve come to really love this version, and it’s a great stress reliever, as well as something of a stress-causer at its higher levels!

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So there you go. I’m not going to pretend these games will appeal to everyone these days — for some, they’re just too old to be enjoyable, either mechanically or in terms of presentation — but I’ve been drawing specific comfort from all of these just lately. So if you’ve found yourself in a similar position, consider returning to your roots and seeing what some of the very earliest games have to offer — you might just find yourself surprised.

2538: MoeGamer 2016

As my time writing these posts daily draws to a close, I find myself contemplating my other site MoeGamer and the progress I’ve made with it this year.

For those unfamiliar, MoeGamer (moegamer.net) was originally conceived as a means of continuing the work I did during my time at USgamer with my JPgamer column. JPgamer itself originally came about as the result of a USgamer contributor’s frankly atrocious review of Hatsune Miku Project Diva F in which he, among other things, described people who were into the game as “degenerates”. Fellow regular staffer Cass Khaw and I were both pretty upset and annoyed at the language used in the article, so I used my inaugural JPgamer column to talk about the review, the language that had been used and why such unpleasant prejudices were apparently prevalent in the business. (I got into trouble for “throwing the contributor under the bus” for that piece, but frankly he deserved it. Insulting your audience is never cool.)

From there, I continued to post JPgamer on a weekly basis, reporting on newly announced Japanese games and their localisation as well as Japanese-inspired games by Western developers such as HuniePop. The fact it was a regular opinion column rather than a specific format such as a review afforded me the opportunity to talk about things it might otherwise have been difficult to incorporate into USgamer’s regular content schedule, and for all the bitter taste that my time working under editor Jeremy Parish left me with — particularly once I was forcibly ousted in favour of his friends Kat Bailey and Bob Mackey on the pretense that “the site wanted an all-American staff” — I was, at least, for the most part, allowed to cover what I want. (The only title I was specifically forbidden from writing about at all was Monster Monpiece, which is a silly game to lay down the law over, but the only one nonetheless.)

My work on JPgamer revealed that there was an untapped audience out there who were hungry for coverage of Japanese games that wasn’t simply of the “lol, Japan” variety or indeed, since 2013-2014 marked an explosion in the obnoxious “social justice” craze, overly obsessed with declaring everything “problematic” or “misogynist”. My audience were grateful for bringing their attention to a variety of games that either didn’t get any column inches on mainstream websites under the best circumstances, and which were treated with a considerable amount of unfairness and ill-informed disdain in the worst instances. I even made a number of close friends via the columns’ comment sections, whom some of you will recognise from the regular comments on this site and MoeGamer.

When I launched MoeGamer, my initial intention was to treat it somewhat like my JPgamer column, which is to say, simply covering topics and games of interest as and when they cropped up. I didn’t have the time to devote to the site on a full-time basis so I couldn’t turn it into a full-scale news site or anything — but nor did I want to, either. There are far too many of them out there already, with far too many, even among the mainstream commercial sites, simply parroting press releases for the most part rather than doing actual journalism. Rather, I wanted to take MoeGamer in a direction similar to how I had treated my previous writing about Japanese games: I wanted to explore games through long-form writing in which I could use my knowledge of literary, film and media theory to talk about their narrative, themes and characterisation as much as their aesthetics and mechanics. I didn’t treat my articles about games as “reviews” — I instead simply approached them as one might tackle an essay: begin with a starting point and focus to explore, investigate it thoroughly before reaching a conclusion where appropriate.

I’m pleased with some of the articles I produced during this initial period at MoeGamer, though I grant it was a period of experimentation with some pieces more successful than others. Of this initial batch, I’m most pleased with We Need to Talk About Your Sister, on D.O.’s legendary visual novel Kana Little Sister; Guidebook to Another Culture, on how Steins;Gate explores Japanese culture and the concept of otakudom without prejudice; There’s Not Always a Happy Ending, on how horrific visual novel Saya no Uta has no endings that can truly be called “good” but is still an intensely satisfying, enriching experience regardless; An Unavoidable Tragedy, on how Nippon Ichi’s surprisingly good The Witch and the Hundred Knight turned out to be a rare example of video games exploring an honest-to-goodness classically tragic narrative; and Atelier Rorona Plus: The Nicest Game You’ll Play This Summer, whose title is pretty self-explanatory.

Earlier this year, after a bit of a hiatus, I decided to reboot MoeGamer somewhat with a mind to providing a more regular stream of content. This partly came from a simple desire to do more with the site, as I’d left it dormant for a number of months by this point, but I was also interested in trying to make something a little more out of it. Specifically, I was interested in the crowdfunding platform Patreon, and whether or not it would provide a means for me to try and earn a bit of extra pocket money from MoeGamer, allowing me to continue providing coverage in the way I wanted to without resorting to clickbait headlines and/or provocative moral crusading, both of which I’d seen the mainstream media sadly decline into over the course of the last couple of years.

My intention was to handle MoeGamer somewhat more like a magazine. Each month would have a clear focus — a single game or series, in this case — and over the course of four weekly articles, I’d explore this focus from a variety of different perspectives. It took a couple of months to get the format nailed down, and it still varies a little according to the specific title I’m covering, but I’m pretty happy with the approach I’m taking now: first, introduce the game or series, including its historical context in relation to its peers, similar titles or inspirations; then, look at its mechanics and anything interesting it does in this regard; then, explore its narrative, themes and characterisation in detail; finally, look at its audio-visual aesthetics or any other aspects of the game which are worthy of discussion, such as alternative versions of a game, different platforms, expansions or remakes.

Notably, an overriding philosophy that I’ve always had with MoeGamer is to accentuate the positive, interesting aspects of these games. Acknowledge their flaws where appropriate, sure, but don’t dwell on them in the cynical, world-weary way that all too many writers do these days. I’ve always found it much more interesting and fun to seek out the good in even the shonkiest of games than to take the easy, low-road approach of tearing it a new one. Pointing out things that someone or something does badly is easy and often destructive; exploring the positive aspects is simply a better experience for everyone involved, at least in my book.

So far I’m happy that I’ve covered a variety of different game types in this format, as well as posting some shorter, one-off articles on games that I found interesting for one reason or another — even if that reason was nothing more complex than “I liked the artwork” or “a lot of people bought this in the Steam sale this week”. Since April of this year, I’ve covered all of the following games:

• Senran Kagura Estival Versus (Marvelous/Xseed) — The fourth installment in Kenichiro Takaki’s series of beat ’em ups about ninja girls, featuring an intoxicating blend of exaggerated sexiness and thought-provoking narrative.
• MegaDimension Neptunia V-II (Idea Factory/Compile Heart) — The fourth mainline Neptunia game, and one of Idea Factory and Compile Heart’s best RPGs to date.
• Dungeon Travelers 2 (Aquaplus/Sting/Atlus) — A dungeon-crawling RPG that initially shot to notoriety through mainstream outlet Polygon’s puritanical hand-wringing over its provocative artwork, but subsequently proved itself to be among the very best in the subgenre ever created.
• Ys (Falcom/Xseed) — A legendary series of action RPGs that I’d been meaning to check out for the longest time and finally got around to. They’re now among my favourite games of all time.
• RPG Maker MV (Enterbrain/Kadokawa) — The latest installment in the long-running series of easy to learn but extremely powerful RPG construction kits.
• One Way Heroics (SmokingWOLF/Spike Chunsoft) — Barely known (but brilliant) Japanese indie roguelike makes good with a complete revamp and reimagining from Danganronpa creators Spike Chunsoft.
• Gal*Gun Double Peace (Inti Creates/PQube) — A light gun shooter-cum-dating sim that manages to be considerably more than the sum of its parts.
• Fairy Fencer F: Advent Dark Force (Idea Factory/Compile Heart) — A huge revamp and expansion on Idea Factory and Compile Heart’s earlier title Fairy Fencer F, itself an attempt to tell a more serious tale than the light-hearted Neptunia series the company is most well-known for.
• Final Fantasy XV (Square Enix) — While a much more mainstream game than what I’d typically cover on MoeGamer, there’s a lot to write about with Final Fantasy XV that I felt was well worth exploring.
• Root Letter (Kadokawa/PQube) — A visual novel for the over-30s. Absolutely beautiful.
• Negligee (Dharker Studio) — A short visual novel from a British (but Japanese-inspired) studio that explores both the experience of working retail and what it’s like to slowly realise you’re a gay girl.
• Supipara (minori/MangaGamer) — A beautiful visual novel that tells a charming, dream-like tale that masterfully blends the magical and the mundane.
• Delicious! Pretty Girls Mahjong Solitaire (Zoo Corporation) — Exactly what it sounds like.
• VA-11 HALL-A (Sukeban Games) — A wonderful visual novel-cum-bartending sim by two guys from Venezuela who really love the old-school Japanese PC-98 aesthetic.

I’m pretty happy with that for nine months’ work, and I like to think that I’ve brought some much-needed attention and love to some games that simply don’t get noticed by many outlets these days. Perhaps I’ve even made you aware of games that you didn’t even know existed, dear reader, and if that’s the case I hope you’ve found something to enjoy among all the titles I’ve covered.

I’ve got a number of titles I’d like to cover on MoeGamer in the new year, including the Trails series by Falcom, Nights of Azure and a variety of Atelier games by Gust, Omega Quintet from Idea Factory and Compile Heart, and numerous others besides. While I’m under no illusions that MoeGamer is ever going to be a competitor for big mainstream sites that pump out a variety of provocative clickbait each day, I am happy with what I’ve created with it so far, and over time I intend to continue expanding it into a comprehensive resource full of long-form articles about a wide variety of surprising and fascinating Japanese (and Japanese-inspired) games. To put it another way, I want MoeGamer to reflect my love for the medium, and I hope others enjoy it too.

If you enjoy what I’ve done with the site or simply want to support creators producing long-form, non-clickbait content, any donations to my Patreon are most gratefully received right here. I thank you kindly in advance for your generosity and readership, and hope you enjoy what I produce in the new year.

2537: Treasure Tracker

I started playing a game I’ve been meaning to check out for a while today: Captain Toad Treasure Tracker, a spin-off title from one of the Wii U’s best games, Super Mario 3D World, and a fantastic game in its own right.

For the unfamiliar, Captain Toad is based on the occasional levels in Super Mario 3D World where instead of controlling Mario, Luigi, Toad and/or Princess Peach, you take on the role of Captain Toad, an intrepid explorer from the Toad race who is carrying so much crap in his backpack he can’t jump. Consequently, his means of navigating levels is very different from the relatively conventional platforming of Super Mario 3D World’s regular levels, and his stages tended to be rather more puzzly in nature.

Captain Toad Treasure Tracker takes the idea of these stages and builds a whole game out of them. With each stage being formed as a three-dimensional diorama, usually in a cube shape, you need to carefully navigate Captain Toad around and rotate the camera in all directions to find hidden items and passageways as well as determine the best way to proceed.

Captain Toad Treasure Tracker features a great deal more variety in its stages than the Captain Toad stages in Super Mario 3D World, and in true Mario game tradition there are a wide variety of unique mechanics and gimmicks that are introduced and explored in a couple of stages before being set aside before they wear out their welcome. Powerups from Super Mario 3D World put in an appearance, too, most notably the cherries which spawn a clone of your current character, which you then control simultaneously with your original one. You’ll then be tasked with navigating these characters together in such a way that you do things like simultaneously press switches or proceed down two separate routes at the same time.

In true Nintendo tradition, there are several degrees of depth that you can play the game in. At its simplest level, you can make your way through Captain Toad by simply determining the path to the star that completes the stage. Then there are three hidden gems in each stage, and finally a hidden bonus objective. Not all of these objectives need to be completed at the same time or even in a single playthrough, but they add a great deal of depth and replayability to the levels.

Most of all, though, Captain Toad Treasure Tracker is simply an utterly charming game that doesn’t have a drop of maliciousness or cynicism about it whatsoever. It’s endearing, cheerful, colourful and relaxing to play, and already, after just 11 stages (out of a reported 70+) it’s becoming one of my favourite Wii U games that I’m very much looking forward to getting stuck further into.

2536: NES Remix and the Art of Good Game Design

Still on a Nintendo kick at the moment. I’ve been playing a fair amount of NES Remix on Wii U, a rather peculiar package that consists of an enormous number of bite-size challenges based on a variety of Nintendo’s old 8-bit NES games.

Structurally, it’s rather like a mobile game in that each level tends to take less than a minute to complete, and upon completion you’re graded between one and three stars, which are subsequently collected and used to unlock further challenges.

The rating system isn’t needlessly complicated, however; you get one star just for clearing the challenge, even if you ran out of lives and had to continue partway through a multi-stage task; you get two stars for clearing the challenge without using a continue; and you get three stars for clearing the challenge without using a continue and within a (hidden) par time. (You can also attain “rainbow stars” for each challenge by beating an even tighter par time, but these are purely for your own satisfaction; they don’t count as extra stars as far as the game is concerned.)

The genius of NES Remix is that it teaches you to play all of these old games as you go, and it does so without using any hand-holding tutorials whatsoever. Rather, with each of the games in the package, it starts you off with simple tasks and gradually advances you to more complex, multi-stage challenges. And once you’re done with all that, the “Remix” and “Bonus” stages provide their own twists on the classic NES games in all manner of ways, perhaps by mashing up characters from one game into the levels of another, or by doing weird things with the visuals, or by making you play the game upside down or back to front.

What NES Remix successfully does is revitalise every game it incorporates — even those which, when played in their original forms, would look a little tired and primitive now. By trimming the experience down to less than a minute rather than expecting someone to play, say, an entire round in Golf, or a complete game in Baseball, you get a feel for the solid base mechanics of these games without having to invest a lot of time in them and risk them outstaying their welcome. NES Remix instead tasks you with, to use the same examples, simply getting on the green in less than 2 hits from a variety of situations, or winning a game from its final innings.

NES Remix is also interesting from a historical perspective to see how far we’ve come in certain genres. As you may have surmised from the examples I’ve given so far, this is particularly apparent in the sports games. Tennis, for example, requires far more split-second timing than its more modern counterparts. And while Golf features an early version of the classic “two tap” power-and-accuracy meter that many modern equivalents still use today, the lack of features such as the ability to put spin on the ball or estimate the maximum distance a given club will hit makes you realise how much we take for granted today.

It’s not just true for sports games, either. Ice Climber makes me incredibly grateful that Nintendo finally got the hang of jumping controls with the Mario series, because they certainly didn’t in Ice Climber. The Legend of Zelda will make you miss the ability to move diagonally. And Donkey Kong will make you glad that modern platform game heroes have significantly stronger knee joints and don’t die if they fall more than the length of their own shins.

As infuriating as some of these old games can be, NES Remix embraces their foibles and quirks and turns them into simple but compelling and addictive challenges that have kept me very much entertained over the last few days. And when you’re done with Nintendo’s oldest games, NES Remix 2 then moves onto later titles such as Super Mario Bros. 2 and 3, Metroid and Zelda II as we see a company getting more adventurous and attempting to refine their craft further.

For some, there will be no substitute for playing the original games — perhaps even on original hardware — but NES Remix is a great way of revisiting a wide variety of Nintendo classics and having a bit of fun with them. Plus I can’t help thinking it would make a hell of a great basis for group competitive play.

2535: A Very Nintendo Christmas

Familial duties for Christmas Day are all done and dusted, and the wife and I are back home. After giving a bit of fuss to the cats — who got an impressively large haul of gifts, because everyone likes to buy presents for cats, and cats are easy to buy gifts for — my main plan for this evening is to sit down in front of the Wii U for a whole bunch of Nintendo gaming.

I’m not entirely sure why my brain has made an unbreakable association between Nintendo games and the festive season, but I get this feeling and this desire to binge on Nintendo games every Christmas.

I suspect it’s a combination of factors, beginning with the fact that one of the most exciting Christmas presents I ever received as a child was a Super NES — the first console I’d ever owned, as up until that point we’d previously been a computer game-only household thanks to our collection of 8- and 16-bit Atari computers.

During that Christmas, I spent a great amount of time between the three games I had at the time: Super Mario World, Street Fighter II and Chuck Rock. (The latter two were American imports for some reason, necessitating the use of one of those enormous and unwieldy “converter” cartridges in which you had to plug the game you wanted to play in the top, and an English game in the back.) Consequently, I have very fond memories of that Christmas, and notably, the original Street Fighter II is one of the only fighting games I’ve ever felt like I actually “got”.

I think it’s more than that, though. I wrote yesterday about how I have generally positive associations with Christmas thanks to generally pleasant family gatherings growing up, and Nintendo as a whole prides itself on its family-friendly output. Now, to be honest, my parents were never particularly ones for playing two-player games with me — though my brother would join in when he was present — but the association is still there. First-party Nintendo games in particular are wrapped in a wonderful feeling of warmth and friendliness — a feeling that they’re designed for families to gather round and enjoy themselves with, even if it’s only one person playing at a time while others look on and enjoy the cartoonish silliness.

Then there’s also the fact that Nintendo games are generally very “pure” experiences that often — not always — forego ambitious, thought-provoking storytelling in favour of extremely solid gameplay, and as such are the perfect fodder for those times of year when you don’t want or need to think too hard about things, such as, say, when you’ve eaten several tons of turkey.

Whatever the reasoning behind it, I can’t break the association between Nintendo games and the holiday season, and nor do I want to. So the remainder of my Christmas day is going to be spent in the company of Mario and all his friends.

2533: Future Collector’s Item

You’ve probably seen me mention my friend Chris on these pages a few times. (You might even be my friend Chris, in which case hi.) Chris and I have differing opinions on a number of things, but one thing we both agree on is the importance, value and general sense of satisfaction inherent in archiving and collecting games and gaming hardware for the future.

The other day, Chris and I were discussing Nintendo’s Wii U. We’re both a fan of the console and many of the games on it, and find the self-fulfilling prophecy of its “failure” rather frustrating; had people been a bit more willing to celebrate its most interesting and exciting titles rather than playing the usual “lol, Nintendo got no third party support” game things might have turned out a bit more differently. Or perhaps they might not have. Either way, it doesn’t really matter; it’s on the way out come March when Nintendo launches its new console, the Switch.

Chris raised a really interesting point about the Wii U that I hadn’t considered before: it is a new TurboGrafx or Neo-Geo.

“Tiny library of mostly excellent stuff?” he explained. “Check. Very short lifespan? Check. Innovative tech that was received poorly? Check. The Wii U in general is going to be a hardcore collecting legend in 5+ years.”

NEC and SNK’s consoles weren’t bad at the time they were released; they were simply competing with more popular (and particularly in the Neo-Geo’s case, more affordable) alternatives from Sega and Nintendo. In 2016, Nintendo finds itself in a similar position as these “second-tier” console manufacturers were in back in the 16- and 32-bit eras: the market is dominated by two more popular, more widely supported consoles (not to mention the endless sprawl of PC gaming) and is perceived as a “failure” despite having a small but beautifully formed library of games, most of which are not only excellent, but markedly distinct from the big-budget affairs that make up the frontline of the PS4 and Xbox One’s respective software libraries.

For the last few years, I’ve taken the attitude that, with a few exceptions — the most recent being Final Fantasy XV and Pokémon Moon — I will prioritise buying games that will more than likely be difficult to find in a year or two. (That said, old copies of Pokémon appear to absolutely skyrocket in value after a few years, so I’m certainly glad I grabbed that one, and especially glad I grabbed the apparently considerably less popular Moon variant.) Since I have an enormous backlog to get through already, I feel that the next few additions to my collection will more than likely be Wii U titles in an attempt to fill out an “essential” catalogue of games that I will be proud to keep alongside the console once it leaves the market.

So far I’ve got quite a decent selection: Bayonetta 2, Hyrule Warriors, Lego City Undercover, Mario Kart 8, NintendoLand, Sonic and Sega All-Stars Racing Transformed (multi-platform, so I sort of don’t really count this one, as fun as it is), Super Smash Bros., Super Mario Maker, Star Fox Guard, Star Fox Zero, Super Mario 3D World, Wii Party U, Wind Waker HD, Xenoblade Chronicles X and ZombiU. (The latter has been subsequently ported to other platforms, but the Wii U version features a unique local multiplayer mode that is a surprising amount of fun.)

I also have digital copies of Pikmin 3 and The Wonderful 101 that I’d like to replace with physical editions at some point in the near future, and I’ve ordered copies of Rodea the Sky Soldier and Captain Toad Treasure Tracker. The game I’m most concerned about becoming difficult to acquire in the near future is Tokyo Mirage Sessions, so I’ll likely grab that in the new year, and I think I’d also like to round out the Mario collection with Mario Tennis and Mario Party 10 at some point, too.

At that point, I think I’ll be satisfied with what I have; I don’t feel the numerous Lego games (aside from Wii U exclusive Lego City Undercover) have much value due to their multi-platform, cross-generational status, and likewise for stuff like Ubisoft’s dreadful but inexplicably popular Just Dance series and yet another port of the inescapable Minecraft — although I must confess I do like the idea of Minecraft making use of the GamePad’s touchscreen for its interface.

The prospect of the Wii U becoming highly collectible in the next few years is quite an exciting one, because for once, I not only have one, I have a good collection of games to go alongside it, too. It’s not exciting from the perspective that I’ll be able to make a lot of money from it — on the contrary; I don’t intend on letting it go anywhere — but rather because it’s a tangible piece of collectible history that I’ll be able to look back on fondly in the future.

2532: Five Games You Should Get in the Steam Sale

Steam’s Winter Sale has rolled around again! As always, there’s a wealth of great games on offer. On the off-chance that you don’t already own some or all of these games, here are five of my favourites that you should check out.

Recettear (£2.59)

I find it hard to imagine that anyone doesn’t have Recettear yet, but on the offchance you don’t, here’s the pitch.

Recette is a young girl saddled with an enormous debt. Fortunately, she has a shop with which she can attempt to clear said debt by selling items to the local community, as well as through making good use of the assistance of her fairy companion Tear (actually a representative of the bank keeping an eye on her finances) and the local adventurer’s guild.

Recettear is split into two main components. Firstly, there’s running the shop, which involves putting out items for people to buy, correctly answering their requests and haggling over prices. Secondly, there’s a significant roguelike-esque action RPG component in which Recette can hire one of the local adventurer’s guild to go into one of the nearby dungeons to fight monsters and acquire items that she can subsequently craft into more interesting items or simply sell as-is.

The closest comparison is probably Gust’s Atelier series, though there’s much less of a focus on crafting in Recettear and more on the dungeon crawling and customer interaction side of things. It’s one of the most charming games ever created, with a stunning localisation from the original Japanese by Carpe Fulgur, and is well worth your time.

Steam page

Binary Domain (£2.74)

An absolutely wonderful third-person shooter, Binary Domain takes Gears of War’s po-faced, joyless over the shoulder cover-based shooting and ramps up the adrenaline to make something with a bunch more personality and drama about it, albeit with (arguably) a few more clunky edges to it.

In Binary Domain you spend a lot of time shooting the shit out of robots, all of which shatter into pieces rather satisfyingly. There’s a variety of upgradeable weapons to acquire over the course of your adventure, and some truly entertaining setpieces. The story is good, too, featuring a cast who are all much more interesting than the walking military stereotypes found in shooters that take themselves a bit too seriously, and the whole thing feels like it’s been designed on the understanding that games are supposed to be fun.

Steam page

HuniePop (£1.74)

One of the absolute best puzzle games to be released in the last few years — hell, one of the only puzzle games to be released in the last few years that isn’t a free-to-play mobile phone-based Bejeweled ripoff — and a game full of endearingly cheeky humour designed by a team who doesn’t give a fuck about political correctness.

HuniePop is ostensibly a dating sim in that you build up your stats in order to attempt to woo the various girls on the cast, but the twist is that in order to have successful dates (or “intimate” encounters) you need to indulge in some mind-bending, highly strategic puzzle-solving using a combination of your pattern-spotting skills and the items you collect throughout the dating sim gameplay.

HuniePop is beautifully presented, highly playable, shamelessly lewd and an absolute pleasure to play.

Steam page

VA-11 HALL-A (£9.34)

VA-11 HALL-A is a brilliant visual novel-cum-bartending sim in which you take on the role of Jill, a rather ordinary young woman who lives in a cyberpunk future and tends bar in the titular drinking establishment.

VA-11 HALL-A tells its story rather wonderfully through what it doesn’t show you — since the majority of the action unfolds from Jill’s perspective behind the bar, you tend to see the immediate prelude to and aftermath of important events in the game world rather than the events themselves, which allows you to develop a much more personal attachment to them by hearing firsthand accounts from people who were there.

There’s a wonderful cast of characters — effortlessly “diverse”, I might add, and without making a big song and dance about it at any point, unlike its spiritual predecessor Read Only Memories, which very much wanted you to know how progressive it was at every opportunity — and a compelling story to enjoy here, all beautifully presented in the style of an old PC-98-era visual novel from Japan. Except this masterpiece was put together by a couple of dudes from Venezuela over the course of the last couple of years.

Steam page

Assault Android Cactus (£5.49)

One of the best shoot ’em ups I’ve ever had the pleasure of playing, Assault Android Cactus channels a variety of influences ranging from bullet hell shooters to Rare’s Jet Force Gemini to create a marvelously entertaining and meticulously designed twin-stick shooter for up to four players simultaneously.

Unfolding across some beautiful-looking dynamic levels, Cactus will challenge your shooter skills to the limit if you want to attain the best scores and grades, but the game also remains accessible to newcomers who just want to blast their way through to the end to say they’ve beaten it.

The whole package is capped off with an amazing soundtrack and some brilliant old-school Sega-style “EX options” that can completely change the way the game plays, and is an absolutely essential purchase for anyone who enjoys a bit of quality arcade action.

Steam page