Sorry for the confusion, and thanks for everything!

Having finally made the journey back to America after a three year stint living in Japan, I’m really surprised to see the widespread proliferation of the iPhone. Even I have one now (courtesy of my own birthday). The iPhone is, no question, not just a fantastically powerful gadget, and a capable phone that does not compromise aesthetics or function for the other. It even has a stable of games and applications that would make almost anyone scream in delight.

The DS and PSP continue to dominate the hearts and minds of Japanese gamers. As people become busier and spend more time outside of their homes, handheld gaming system popularity increases. Why is it that the iPhone just has not taken off in Japan then? Apple has stated that sales have been lower than expected, and despite no concrete numbers, warning signs have begun to appear. Exclusive iPhone provider Softbank cut the price of the phone and the accompanying data plan recently, making the 8GB model free, and the 16GB half its original price. They additionally cut roughly ￥1000 off the monthly data plan for both existing and new customers.

The Sample

Here in America, journalists everywhere are singing the praises of the iPhone as a true contender in the portable gaming space. In Japan, the platform is barely on the radar. To illustrate my point, I took a random sample from my friends in Japan, and split them into two equal groups: foreigners, and Japan-born natives. I would not purport that this experiment is entirely controlled, but for the purpose of proving my point, you will just have to suspend your disbelief.

The sample specifically was nine people: five Americans, and four Japanese. For the sake of simplifying the experiment, I tried to make sure that all nine of the participants had similar spending habits and buying power, and also made sure that all of them were either gamers, or at least had a passing interest in playing games.

Out of the five Americans, two already owned iPhones. The other three were either interested in iPhones, but either could not afford the device at the present time, or were not interested in switching from their current phone provider. All three of them purchased and iPod Touch instead. Of the four native Japanese friends, none owned an iPhone, two had absolutely no interest in getting one (or an iPod Touch), one thought it was really amazing but “unattainable”, and one did not want to switch from their cell phone service provider, and already owned a Sony Walkman mp3 player.

Like the astonishing market penetration of the MiniDisc format in Japan, the iPhone’s lack of popularity is a total mystery. There are a number of factors that might be the cause, but the following is merely semi-intelligent speculation, weighed largely on observed cultural trends and anecdotal evidence.

Country of Origin

This is not meant to be an inflammatory argument about the insular cultural bias of the common Japanese person in the least. In fact, I would list this as a strong similarity to America. Less based on national pride and more based on availability of information, Japanese people tend to trust companies they know. Companies like Casio, Panasonic, and Fujitsu are household names that carry a lot of weight, especially because of their longstanding history. People know about their long history as a trustworthy company, and many of these companies began as family businesses; something that is held in high regard in Japan.

Apple just does not have the same reputation. They are considered the American luxury electronics store (especially now that Apple stores have begun to spring up all over the country).

The Luxury Factor

The average Japanese consumer does not know much about Apple’s past. The geeky and down-to-earth Apple Computers of the 70′s and 80′s and its transition to the sophisticated and classy Apple of today is maybe not common knowledge, but most consumers know that Apple made computers before it made the iPod.

In Japan, Apple is a luxury electronics company. It has its own stores, and the locations of these stores are usually in the shopping districts of major cities: Apple’s Osaka store is in Shinsaibashi, across from Nike, Dolce & Gabana, Coach and Gucci. Meanwhile, Apple stores in America have, in the last 3 years, sprung up in virtually every thriving shopping mall and village, next to reasonably priced women’s clothing stores and book stores. For Americans, we view the iPod and the iPhone has aesthetically pleasing and surprisingly functional gadgets. I found many of my Japanese friends viewed Apple’s electronics as unattainable rich man’s toys.

The Price Tag

There is no question that the luxury image is strengthened by Apple’s pricing structure in Japan. My Macbook Pro was nearly $1000 more in Japan than it was in the US, and the iPhone is no different. Before Softbank slashed the price on the iPhone in February, the 8GB model was roughly $235, making it almost 25% more expensive than its American clone. The iPod Touch is no different. While the 16GB model in America sells for $299 (which is already pretty expensive for what it is), the Japanese Apple store sells the exact same model for ￥35800, approximately $354. Essentially, in addition to the well-known “Apple tax” Americans have gotten used to, Japanese consumers are paying an additional $30-$50 for no real apparent reason.

Digital Distro

While Sony has been flirting with digital distribution for all future PSP releases in America, SCE Japan still clings to its boxes, manuals and UMD releases. No matter how dismal UMD adoption has been, Sony knows that Japan is still not ready for full digital distribution. Japanese hospitals and businesses still use paper primarily to keep records, Japanese music lovers still buy CDs regularly, and modern gaming is still predominantly disc-based. Japanese companies looking to push digitally distributed games tend to focus on games that would interest the Western market, because they know fully well that those countries will be the biggest money makers.

Perhaps this could be Apple’s folly. The iPhone has an incredible and expansive app store and thousands of fantastic games and programs, yet coverage of iPhone titles never ends up in Japanese gaming magazines. Maybe the iPhone is a little too ahead of its time for Japan; the country is just not ready for an entirely online game store, devoid of discs, manuals and tangible boxes.

Despite all of these factors, Japanese companies like Square Enix and Hudson seem to be hopping on board to create titles for the platform, though it seems fairly obvious their effort to make compelling products pales in comparison to that of small independent developers and American publishers. 2009 is not yet over, though, and there’s still time for Apple to gain ground in the new fiscal year.

There should be a law against buying a product for the sole purpose of getting at its free pack-in. Though, if that was the case, I suppose I would be jail, along with droves of Final Fantasy fans. Prisons would even more overpopulated than they are now. Rapists and murderers would walk the streets in search of new prey, while innocent but gullible consumers would be sitting in cells, cursing the day they bought Final Fantasy VII Advent Children Complete.

After all, that might be the biggest reason most Japanese gamers picked up the Blu Ray release of the Final Fantasy CG movie, even if they already owned the same movie on DVD. The movie itself has new added scenes and crisper high resolution visuals, sure, but it was the inclusion of the long awaited Final Fantasy XIII demo that pushed the box set to the top of hundreds of Most Wanted Lists.

When the very first trailer for Final Fantasy XIII was revealed, it was pretty hard to figure out what exactly the battle system was, but it was obviously very stylish. The Heads Up Display has changed a little bit since then. Gone is the humorous “Blizzrad” misspelling. In fact, almost all of the English is gone. It looks like the Japanese version will have full Japanese menus as well (with Japanese games, you can never be sure; the demo itself still has English sprinkled around in random places).

Let’s get this out of the way first: the game is beautiful. The demo is absolutely gorgeous, and when you consider that much of the frame rate issues and low resolution textures found in the demo have already been fixed in recent builds of the final game, it is very hard to find things to complain about. In fact, the demo seems to look better and better as you continue to play. Each of the characters is rendered meticulously, and there seems to be little difference between the fidelity of the cut scene models and those the player uses in battle. From Snow’s beard shadow to the threads and fibers in Lightning’s clothing, the attention to detail even in this demo is mind blowing.

There have been complaints about the generic nature of the art style, and while that is a valid argument at this point in the game, there are signs that the game has its heart in the right place. It’s hard to judge atmosphere from such a small chunk of the game, so perhaps it is better to reserve judgment for the final product, especially when the game seems like it have drastic atmospheric changes throughout the game.

The very first battle seamlessly flows from the cut scene that sets it up, but don’t get chummy with the idea. Final Fantasy XIII still does screen transitions for regular battles. It’s unknown why exactly. All enemies involved in the battle are visible on the field (not just a single unit representing a group), and there does not seem to be any loading leading into battle. The transition is quick and unobtrusive, though a friend who played the demo with me said he missed the dramatic wipes and shattered glass. To each their own, I suppose.

The battle system itself is simple enough. Each character has a traditional ATB (Active Time Battle) bar that always fills over time, but segmented into three parts. Each attack, skill and magic uses between one and three bars. When issuing orders, players choose a combination of attacks that add up to 3, and then hit triangle or press the “Issue Command” button to push the combo through to the AI to perform. The player is forced to choose a target before picking skills, though, so it’s impossible to split a command string between two enemies, or even an enemy and an ally. If you intend to heal a teammate or yourself, you will have to dedicate a command string to them.

Despite all of this, the battle system is fast, flashy, and even a little intricate. Players can launch enemies into the air and combo aerial attacks, or even throw magic attacks into a group and hit everyone. Because of the inclusion of the Issue Command button, players even have the choice of using a single attack to finish off a heavily damaged foe instead of wasting the entire ATB bar, adding a level of strategy to ATB conservation and use.

There doesn’t seem to be mana dependency at all, though. In the interest of simplicity, perhaps, magic relies solely on the ATB, with each more powerful magic requiring a larger bite of the bar to use. Square Enix has stated in the past that the demo does not contain the “entire” battle system, but what that means is still a mystery. Most good games never give you everything at the beginning of the game and tend to layer the complexity on as the player gets more and more familiar with what they’ve learned, but it is unclear whether this demo is just from the beginning of the game, or if Square Enix forcibly ripped pieces of the system out for the purposes of the demo.

There probably will not be much news about Final Fantasy XIII until this winter, when the game is set to ship in Japan. For now, it is safe to say that from this slice of the full game, it looks like the next iteration in the world’s most famous RPG series is in good hands.

I have been hearing too much of it in the last couple months. Globalization. I’m on my way back from the countryside on a rapid train headed east. The beautiful Japanese landscape is passing me by, and all around me, businessmen and students alike are practically catatonic, sleeping the commute away. Some have cell phones in their hands; others have a PSP or a DS.

Despite being a gamer myself, I’m not playing anything. I’m watching the tree line and the blue sky, and listening to Listen Up, the successor to 1Up Yours, one of my favorite gaming related podcasts. Someone is talking about the controls in Resident Evil 5. Some agree with him; some don’t. They’re all arguing about how inaccessible some games are for the modern American gamer. Companies need a more global outlook.

Modernization. Globalization. These are words being thrown around in excess in recent months. Journalists and gamers alike have used both words as synonyms for controls and game conventions familiar to the modern western audience. As North America slowly pulls ahead as one of the most financially important territories, the interests and desires of its inhabitants seem to be gaining prominence.

Unlike the Playstation era, when gamers were more than willing to learn new control methods to facilitate exploring new genres like the Japanese RPG, the pendulum has, as is its wont, swung back towards genres more practiced and tread by the North American game development community. Companies like Capcom see the benefit of capitalizing on such change, and has expanded its lineup of action shooters. Kojima Productions enlisted Ryan Payton (among others I’m sure) to “westernize” Metal Gear’s controls for its outing on the Playstation 3. Why list these changes as globalization, though?

This past week I spent much of my time in the center of Osaka with Josh and his visiting brother, playing Bandai Namco’s online arcade game Gundam: Bonds of the Battlefield (known as Senjou no Kizuna in Japan). The game uses a projector and a dome like screen to simulate a cockpit experience, and outfits each player with a set of two sticks and two pedals with which to control their mechs. Despite giving the player two independent sticks and using much of the mechanics and conventions inherent to team based first person shooters, the controls do not work like a traditional console shooter.

Unlike many shooters where one stick controls swivel and another controls strafing and moving forward, each stick independently controls a leg, giving the player a surprisingly high level of control when strafing, turning, escaping from an imminent beam rifle attack. It also contributes greatly to the authentic feeling of piloting a giant robot. Despite all of this, if the game was ported to a home console and mapped to a set of twin thumb sticks, there would inevitably be a girth of belly-aching and moaning about its incongruency when compared with other competitive team shooters.

I also played quite a bit of Metal Gear Online during its beta period. There was no question that Japanese players struggled with the controls far more than American players. Playing on both types of servers, there were a number of incredible players, but the average Japanese player seemed to have trouble acclimating to two stick movement and aiming. American gamers, of course, picked up the controls rather quickly and even average players were a force to be reckoned with, even early on.

Why hasn’t Japan widely adopted the “global” shooting controls in its various games, with the exception of a few? Even Capcom was hesitant to go all the way with its implentation of Resident Evil 5, still offering traditional one stick controls for series fans. Some could (and have in the past) suggest that Japan is behind the times, and that they’re stuck in the 90′s. Some might equally suggest that shooters are not the region’s strongest genre, and they lack the kind of modernization that which American games are inherently imbued.

The simplest answer is that Japanese gamers are not as acclimated to this type of control as American gamers. They also desire different types of gameplay and different goals. Additionally, Japanese gamers have become accustomed to using twin sticks in different ways (such as in Virtual On, where players use the sticks as if they’re controlling a tank). This is not to say that two stick console first person controls are not the best solution the industry has for now. They’re reliable, they’re accurate to a point, and they’re easy to grasp with a little practice.

The problem is in its colloquialism. If these controls, among a number of North American gaming conventions, are indeed commonplace and required, why do Japanese gamers not stand up in arms about their lack of implementation? They’re wonderful, but global they are not. A call to globalize games is not to globalize at all, but to americanize. Is that horrible? Certainly not. American gamers, like Japanese gamers, have their own expectations and knowledge to which they want their games to adhere.

This is hardly globalization, though. This is an inward looking movement that asks that gamers in other territories throw away their “childish” ways and walk through the door into the modern American era. This seems to leak into opinions on foreign games, whether it be a disdain for Football Manager or a general dislike for Japanese animation. Where mainstream American gamers once looked across the seas for gaming goodness, we now find plentiful on their doorstep. We no longer need the strangeness and idiosyncrasies of other countries to satisfy our needs, and so now shun them in favor of something wholly American and wholly homogeneous; perhaps dangerously so.

American games have seen somewhat of a renaissance in this console generation, and it has allowed American gamers to once again shy away from the strange and the new. We can once again be coddled by sameness and cultural homogeny, and reject what we once held dear. There are exceptions, but those exceptions hold no particular cultural flag high. They might originate from a land far away, but without that knowledge, no one would know the difference.

Every territory has something to offer, and while many acknowledge that each region has its strengths and weaknesses, there’s a remarkable and lopsided view of the industry. While Japanese games were idolized in earlier days, now western games fill the void. There does not seem to be a healthy mix of both in the average gaming diet. Some gamers shun western “bald space marines” in favor of Japanese games, while others refuse to be corrupted by “animu” in favor of playing western games. Homogeny seems to be reigning supreme on both sides of the coin.

Gaming is about new experiences, and it scares me to see a call for more cultural ambiguity. There are games that are quintessentially American, and there are those that are so very Japanese or European, and it would be a dangerous future if that line were blurred. A global market does not mean a culturally united market. Culture is not something to be hidden from the public and to be worn as a yoke in private. Regional culture built our favorite games and our favorite genres, and no country should have to shed its own identity to be recognized in other territories. It should be appreciated for its difference and its dissonance.

Perhaps one day we’ll figure it out.

Wolfenstein 3D, the self-appointed “grandfather of First Person Shooters” was recently retooled and ported to the iPhone and iPod Touch. There is little point in dedicating an entire post to the game, as my feelings on the affair can be summed up rather succinctly: Wolf3D is still a classic, and you should buy it if you love gaming.

That said, the most interesting aspect of the game’s release is creator and id Software programming guru John Carmack’s post mortem designer’s notes on the conception, birth and creation of the tiny project. It even has its fair share of absolute hilarity:

The developers came back and said it would take two months and exceed their budget.

Rather than having a big confrontation over the issue, I told them to just send the project to me and I would do it myself.  Cass Everitt had been doing some personal work on the iPhone, so he helped me get everything set up for local iPhone development here, which is a lot more tortuous than you would expect from an Apple product.  As usual, my off the cuff estimate of “Two days!” was optimistic, but I did get it done in four, and the game is definitely more pleasant at 8x the frame rate.
And I had fun doing it.

It’s a wildly interesting read that gets a bit heavy on thd jargon at points, but is still a great view into the mind of one of the world’s greatest programmers.

Those interested can read the notes here.

Kojima Productions and specifically Metal Gear fans were all dumbfounded when the enigmatic teaser website that went live just a few months ago turned out to be the official site for an iPhone game, rather than the often requested Xbox 360 port of Metal Gear Solid 4.

Itself based on Metal Gear Solid 4, MGS Touch is akin to a lightgun shooter. Players move the reticle around the screen by dragging their thumb, and tap the screen to fire Snake’s M4. By pinching to zoom, Snake can also take out far away enemies with his sniper rifle. Players are also given different objectives every mission. Rather than always finishing a level by killing everyone, certain levels involve using specific tools and destroying specific targets.

Unlike most other platforms, it’s difficult to know when iPhone apps go on sale in the store, so I felt it would be good to let everyone know that the game is now available for download for $7.99. If you are looking to keep up-to-date on iPhone and iPod Touch releases, be sure to check out one of my favorite resources, Touch Arcade.

Metal Gear Solid Touch is exclusive to the iPhone and iPod Touch, so it cannot be played on any other type of iPod.

I don’t think there is any question that I have an almost insurmountable devotion to the RPG genre. My very first RPG was Dragon Warrior for the NES. After it and Final Fantasy, my undying love for RPG genre was officially cemented. I have a healthy background in PC gaming, but just like any person whose gaming education was heavily based on console gaming, my most formative RPG years were spent playing games from Japan.

My entrance into Western RPGs started with Ultima VII. I had no console at home at the time, and my friends were all enjoying Super Nintendo RPGs like Illusion of Gaia and Final Fantasy III. I was looking for the replacement that would keep me going. I enjoyed what Ultima provided, and was always amazed by the series’ level of depth and freedom, but there was a certain je ne sais quoi about Japanese RPGs that I still missed.

When I finally got a SNES and returned to modern JRPGs with the Playstation, I was surprised to find that while games had moved forward in a storytelling and cinematic capacity, the games themselves were largely unchanged. The depth, freedom and malleability of Western RPGs that I had started to take for granted was nowhere to be seen. I was happy to be back, though, and enjoyed Wild Arms, Final Fantasy VII and its ilk without regret.

It’s now 10 years later, and admittedly, not a lot has changed. RPGs have become prettier, have better translators and occassionally sport new battle systems. Like the Joker raising his shoulders in disappointment after a hospital fails to self-destruct, I find myself wondering what can be done. There’s so much ground that could be covered, but with executives begging for cash cows and a tough economy nipping at their heels, only those who have enough capital and/or guts will step up to the plate. Perhaps its not such a gamble, though. No one is asking for drastic and sweeping changes in the RPG formula over night. Gamers themselves treasure a certain level of familiarity in what they play, but little changes can go a long way to make a consumer truly appreciate the effort.

More Interesting Encounters

Screen wipes are old, even if they are still there to hide load times. Even those who still love the idea of the random encounter are tired of going to a completely different screen to start a battle. It chops up the pacing and lacks the smooth transition that a game largely based on adventure and exploration should have. The solution is simple: be inventive with transitions. No game should have a player blindly run into giant hawks and sandworms without proper introduction. Passing through a forest? Thieves might jump out of the trees and ambush. Traipsing through a swamp? A large creature might emerge from the murky waters to capture its next meal. Don’t treat this as a replacement for random encounters. People love the excitement of an unpredictable environment. Dynamic enemy spawning does not have to be planned. It just has to be believable.

Make Each Encounter Matter

RPGs have a horrible habit of throwing “trash mobs” (useless, weak, time wasting enemy groups) at the player on their way through a forest, mountain range or dungeon. Especially in games where random encounters are the main course of battle, monster encounters are numerous and in many situations, not a challenge. Encounters are meant to fulfill two jobs: initially, they are meant to provide an obstacle between the player and the boss creature of ultimate goal of the dungeon. Secondly, they are meant to be a source of strength and experience upon their defeat. Unfortunately, most RPGs tend to fulfill the second requirement but overlook the first.

When a game has enemies only to pad the world’s empty landscape and provide the player with the ability to grind their way to victory, the experience begins to wear thin faster than possibly intended. Higher risk and reward might be the best way to alleviate this. Make each fight count. Increase experience gained and the difficulty of each encounter, but decrease the frequency of encounters. Instead of breaking up the flow of exploration with incessant and worthless fighting, make encounters a slightly more unusual occurence, and make each one special and worthwhile.

Quest Logs and Records

This is a problem particularly aimed at the Japanese RPG. JRPGs in the past never kept any record of one’s progress in either the main story or in the plethora of side quests they might stumble upon. While some are starting to emulate the quest structure of MMORPGs and more Western-centric RPGs, JRPGs still manage to cling to incomprehensible idiosyncracies for no other reason than to infuriate the player. Sega’s 7th Dragon has the ability to pick up quests from townspeople and even provides a fantastic quest log to keep everything in order. The quest log even provides a five star rating system that gauges the difficulty of the quest, and clues players in on how to proceed.

Strangely, though, the quest log can only be accessed at a Guild Hall in town, which means that if you forget what exactly you’re looking for in a forest you must return to the nearest town. It’s unnecessary, and reflects absolutely nothing about reality. Why can my characters not keep a notepad of active quests in the inside pocket of their armor?

Provide Waypoints

Why RPGs still refuse to give players markers on the map that identify the general area a player must go to in order to fulfill a quest is beyond me. Hybrid RPGs like Level 5′s Inazuma Eleven and Sega’s Ryu Ga Gotoku (Yakuza outside of Japan) give players waypoint markers for most quests, but other games refuse to follow suit. Even Level 5′s less than stellar White Knight Story provided a useful waypoint system that made finding the next part of the story much easier. There are cases where waypoints should not be used (like forcing the player to search for a person or object), but there’s usually no legitimate excuse other than to artificially pad the game’s playtime.

Give Characters Life

JRPGs, now more than ever, have become painfully rote. Effeminate protagonists are more ubiquitous than the much parodied bald space marine, and player character archetypes (like the adorable lolita with an oversized weapon) run rampant. It would be wonderful to see developers break away from fan favorites and try to be a little dangerous. If that means choosing new and unusual settings and environments or even picking an untapped and strange art style, players will be open-minded enough, and they will thank you.

Additionally, try to add character interaction that does not interrupt the player experience. Cutscenes are not always the best way to develop characters. Exploring a large and empty landscape? Why not have characters converse in real time. Namco’s Tales series is famous for its skits, but with current hardware, it could be taken to the next level. Have players talk and comment in and out of battle, but add enough dialogue and content that players never hear the same comment more than twice.

Explore New Locales

This is a point that I belabored both in real life and in my writing, but I have little problem touching on it again. RPGs grew from Dungeons & Dragons and Wizardry, but that does not mean that the genre is irrevocably tied to Fantasy, or even Science Fiction. Just like adventure games, why not explore other, more unusual locales? Inazuma Eleven successfuly brought soccer into the RPG space, and Atlus’ Shin Megami Tensei series has long had its fingers in the pop culture pie, but most series and new releases seem happy to wallow in the tired fantasy pool. Sure, taking a chance can be scary, but when it pays off, it can be a huge success.

This is a post that has been a long time in the making; one that has been simmering in my head for far too long. There’s so much more I’d love to write, but this is already too long. What do you think about these points? Anything more you wish from RPGs in the future? Be sure to voice your opinion in the comments box below!

Square Enix has a healthy-sized stable of IPs, and a long list of excellent games. While most of those games have arrived in the United States in some form, There are a few that continue to be ignored. Possibly a financial nightmare for S-E to justify, the kooky RTS gameplay of Hanjuku Hero over the years probably left them with little choice.

Hanjuku Hero vs. 3D is a particularly interesting Hidden Gems subject for a number of reasons: I bought the special edition by chance, I’ve always wanted to play a Hanjuku Hero game, and I’ve been delaying playing this particular game more times than I can count.

Despite having a number of games on my plate (including Ryu Ga Gotoku 3 and Sega’s 7th Dragon), I feel obligated to put myself through this insanity, if only to adhere, if only haphazardly, to my earlier promise. I probably should not have said such things on video, but I was full of beer and sushi.

Sit back and relax. This is Hidden Gems.

12:08 – Twice as late and half as good, I’m finally going to do this feature. Biohazard 5, Street Fighter IV and 7th Dragon have interrupted me for the last time. Let’s do this. Keep in mind that it’s midnight right now, and I’ve had a few drinks.

12:10 – This intro is a hilarious parody of an anime, with cel-animated characters fighting with CG enemies. It even has karaoke subtitles so fans can sing along.

12:11 – Instead of Press Start, the title screen instead says はやく押して〜, which basically means “Hurry up and press!” Hilarious.

12:15 – Are all the cutscenes told as live theater, or just this first one? I wonder.

12:16 – Weird. As if mimicking TV, during the cutscene, the game gave a superimposed weather warning that said “This game is Hanjuku Hero vs. 3D”.

12:20 – The music so far is delightfully retro. I just sent my troops to a bunch of different citadels in hopes of kicking ass in hilarious ways. My enemies are still all 2D so far, so I assume the real threat hasn’t arrived yet. I’m assuming the game is going to offer some sort of heavy handed tutorial in characteristic Square Enix style, as I still have no idea how to fight enemies.

12:22 – I just realized absolutely every command is written in hiragana and not a combination of hiragana and kanji. That’s actually making this a bit harder than I expected it to be.

12:23 – I just won the encounter but I’m not entirely sure how I did. Well, Don’t look a gift horse in the mouth, I suppose. My goons seem to be happy enough.

12:26 – Kokotto, you fool, you’ll be the downfall of this entire kingdom!

12:28 – Good lord, I just ordered a new unit type. After swearing their allegiance to the crown, they performed a rap number and rhymed about how great they were.

12:31 – I was so dazzled by the rap, that I didn’t realize they were changing places, and forcing me to choose the one I really wanted. Looks like I managed to catch on in time. I got exactly what I wanted. Take that game!

12:36 – Sebathchan seems to be a really reliable general. I realize this is just the opening moments of the game, but I can definitely see me using him more often.

12:37 – So, as far as I can gather so far from what I’ve played, I can move my individual armies around the field, and either capture kingdoms or attack armies that are charging across the landscape to take over my kingdoms. Once in battle, things seem to be very simple. I move my whole army around as a one mass and charge them into the enemy, trying to keep my general in the middle safe from spears and swords. I assume my repertoire of special attacks will expand as I get deeper, but so far I have the ability to use stamina to inflict more damage, a distraction move that seems ineffective most of the time, and the ability to flee. My first battle, I made the dumb mistake of fleeing without actually reading what the option was.

12:42 – Sebathchan captured another kingdom, and I think I’m done playing for the night. I’ll try to play more when I have a little more time. This game is downright hilarious. One funny tidbit before I go. The progress bar when the game saves is a series of pictures: egg, cracked egg, chick, chicken…drumstick.

That does it for the first part of our Hanjuku Hero vs. 3D Hidden Gems column. Be sure to check back in the coming weeks for subsequent installments, headaches permitting.

Ys is not a well known RPG series in western countries. This is largely because of its limited release in these territories. Ys 1 and 2 were released for the PC in the 1980′s by Broderbund of all publishers, but the series went into hiding for more than a decade before it finally re-emerged on Playstation 2 with the release of Ys VI: The Ark of Napishtim.

The game’s obscurity can be owed in blamed on its creator, Falcom. While most developers and publishers jumped ship in the 80′s and moved to the Family Computer, Falcom felt it prudent to stick with the PC platform, only publishing on consoles with the help of outside development. Considering the huge incongruency and culturally relative PC markets across oceans, it’s no surprise that multitudes of Falcom’s releases remain unknown.

My dirty admission in all of this is that I’m not a big Ys fan. My opinion of the series was colored by horrible ports and botched improvements. I have several rabid Ys fans for friends, and it was about time I validated (or at least attempted to) their downright sickening devotion to the company.

Anyone who follows my twitter noticed that I was desperately reaching out to the collective knowledge of the internet geek community for help on what to buy. Falcom’s history is twisted, winding, and wholly incomprehensible to the uninitiated, and traps are too easy to fall into without prior knowledge. The right people missed the twitter until it was too late, unfortunately, but I came back unscathed, and with a couple quality titles in tow.

Both Ys I&II Complete and Ys The Oath in Felghana are considered to be excellent games. It was hard to choose where to begin my Ys collection, but considering the amount of praise I received after others laid eyes upon the acquisitions, I made the decision that I had made the right choice.

Ys I&II Complete is a compilation of the first two games in their final remade form, while Oath in Felghana is a remake of Ys 3, the black sheep of the series, in the original top-down action RPG style of its predecessors.

The next titles on the list are Ys V for Super Famicom, and Ys VI for PC. Wish me luck!

How does one explain Noby Noby Boy? Created by Keita Takahashi, the visionary behind Katamari Damacy, Noby Noby Boy was originally revealed as a relaxing game about stretching. That’s it. There are no goals, no objectives, no death, and no adversaries (save perhaps physics). The game was meant to be in the same vein as Katamari before it, but something almost entirely different; something primal and childlike, but also hilarious and heartwarming.

Noby Noby Boy is in fact all of those things. The game does indeed have no real objective other than to stretch your character (aptly named Boy), and have fun with the randomly generated environment, using physics, a healthy appetite, and a little imagination. It has its fair share of meta-goals and hidden objectives, but Noby Noby Boy is, at its core, a fantastical sandbox built around discovery and experimentation.

Taking place on a randomly generated patch of land, a game session characteristically consists of leaving Boy’s house, stretching Boy using the analog sticks, and then proceeding to eat random objects in the environment using L2. The word random is not meant to be lightly used in this case. The amount of variety in the game is startling at times. Everything from motorcycles to giant strawberries are available, edible, and tied to the everloving laws of physics. People also litter the environment; oddities that span both place and time.

Outside of the basic stretching and experimentation, the game does have its own set of trophies. While they’re all meant to be secret for the sake of experimentation, a few sites spoiled the surprises and revealed what each was. While some were simple and would have been achieved simply by playing and testing the boundaries of the game world, a few would have been near impossible to achieve without knowing the requirements ahead of time. Even with that knowledge, the trophies still remain a joy to unlock, and give skeptical players a good framework of the game’s possibilities and palpable goals to achieve.

Even if trophies had been overlooked, though, it would be wrong to say that the game lacks goals of any kind would be inaccurate. As Boy stretches and bounces around, the player can report that length to an anthropomorphic sun that looks down at the earth in eternal wonder. Once that length has been reported, the information is sent to Girl, a similar Noby Noby creature who is slowly growing from Earth out into space based on the stretching lengths reported to her.

The genius of this overarching metagame is partly its simplicity, and partly its strict adherence to the game’s tenets of exploration and discovery. Using the magic of the internet, every single player participating in Noby Noby Boy contributes to Girl’s journey through space, making the game a single player, but massively collaborative effort that, at least on message boards, has had a surprisingly positive effect on communities playing the game. The net effect of Girl’s journey is the encounter of new planets, starting with the Earth’s moon, and followed by Mars. As of this writing, the community has reached the moon. The giddy excitement of what new creatures, environments and physics we would encounter there was incredibly exhilerating, and the idea of unlocking something with a group of people that had never been seen before made me feel like I was part of something important. For some, that is perhaps the real driving force behind the game’s addictive elements.

Noby Noby Boy is an incredibly endearing, lovable and whimsical dream that, if you so choose, has no objective but to have fun and stretch. For those that want more structure, the metagame might not be enough to be considered a tangible objective, but there’s something to be said for its unmistakable, but equally unexplainable addictive nature. To top it all off, the PSN downloadable title sells for $4.99 or ￥800, making it a nearly risk-free venture into the unknown. That is the spirit of the game after all.