yesterday •••• messaged me that I needn't to buy it myself as she will lend me her's instead.
By the time I received and opened the game, it was getting late, close to 10 PM.
Just from the illustration and visuals, it looked damned promising.
Interestingly, the game seemed almost brand new at first glance.
The package had layers of soft, handmade wrapping with precise folds and elegant knots.
The paper had a gentle sheen. Inside, the game case was immaculate and smooth, reflecting light like a mirror, with no scratches whatsoever.
The disc inside was also flawless, without any smudges, and the label was vibrant, with colors that looked freshly printed I might have mistaken it as anew.
The game opening sequence was visually stunning, with sweeping landscapes and an orchestral score that made my tiny apartment feel like a grand hall.
Then came the hero, stepping into view. Tall, chiseled, and with a sharp jawline that looked like it was carved by the gods themselves.
He was the kind of bastard that would make even the most stoic of characters blush.
"If I had a dime for every time a game protagonist looked like they belonged on a runway, I'd be rich." But I digress.
I was just starting to get into it when the heroines appeared, each one more beautiful and intriguing than the last.
I could see why she was so passionate about it. The animation was...
"Holy fuck!"
It seemed almost as if the animators had spent the entire budget of jjk season 2 in each one second frame.
The gameplay mechanics were also quite challenging; while in other games successful parrying might give you something, in this series it was the bare minimum.
You had to manually manipulate each of the character's limbs to parry, attack or avoid, adjusting the choreography yourself.
Even visually, it was more demanding than its predecessors.
That is because you have to spent all of your gaming experience and the reaction speed you'd build up just to defeat a random Mob.
I was intrigued. For about fifteen minutes.
Then, the gut wrenching horror began promptly after.
The game's premise was simple enough: a noble hero on a quest to save the world from the calamity.
Classic stuff, But, what is not classic stuff, is that •••• didn't mention the gut wrenching, soul crushing, snot forming, pain inducing, spirit breaking plot line that would ensue.
The hero, Righteous and kind, was surrounded by a cadre of beautiful heroines, each as enchanting and alluring as a women could get.
It felt as if the women describes in songs of solomon' gathered like a kaleidoscope, each competing for the sweet and sole nectar, that is the protagonist.
It didn't take long for me to realize that these so-called heroines were about as loyal as a cat in a room full of laser pointers.
Is this how Julius Caeser must have felt when Brutus dipped that 10 Inches long steel on his flesh I wonder.
Every single one of them, the heroines, one by one they were systematically stolen by other "heroes"—and I use that term quite loosely.
Not through charm, romance or stupid shit like that. If you could just dominate them, why bother, right?
Yes, you heard that correctly, through coercion, manipulation, and outright threats, they were stolen.
It was like watching a train wreck in slow motion, except the train was my sanity, chipping away dozen of it each time the protagonist act like a bitch, and every stupid decisions the heroines chose.
What frustrates me further however, was that, I... sympathize with their decisions on a conceptual level.
Really? Why the fuck was that shit so well written? Was it necessary?
Each of the hero, they were smooth talkers, trash, ugly bastard, manipulators + all the other negative adjectives you could find in a doujin site of a specific base.
It was like watching a soap opera where every twist was more gut wrenching than the last.
I called •••• with tears of blood, with a nausea building up within, "What the hell? Thi, This Game? You tricked me! You trick meeee!!!" I shouted.
"Ah, ha, ha, ha." She laugh stiffly, "just, just ke— keep playing. You'll find out, out soon." She whispered anxiously, in her same docile tone as usual.
—Tût.
"Did, did she just hang up on me! The child I raised through snot and tears!?" I looked at my phone in horror.
It didn't matter that I was only just 2 and half a years older, I was heavily involved in her development Regardless.
Trust her. Right. I could sense the blood pressure rising as I look at my screen again.
"Woman! The Guy pick you up from being a meat toilet by the bandits! Show Some fucking respect!!!" I screech, as the Rose gold Haired heroine look at the protagonist with disdain.
The heroines weren't just leaving—they were downright cruel, treating the protagonist like dirt even though I, the player tried my very best.
And the hero, not me the player, the Hero, handsome as he was, couldn't do a damn thing about it, because?
Because he was damn fucking weak.
The most annoying thing about all of this madness however was that, you couldn't entirely blame any one of them.
It was infuriating. I aim my fist at the LCD, but recalling the price, I stopped myself. Then I raise my right fist intending to violently lowered it upon the keyboard, but again I recalled the prize and stop myself again.
For 10 minutes straight after that I just stood still, trying to lower my blood pressure and my trembling muscle, bloodlusted.
But did I stop playing? Oh no no no no, not me.
I'm what you'd call tenacious, if you put it elegantly—or just plain stubborn, if you want to be direct. I didn't care either way.
The spite in me wouldn't let me quit. I had to see how far this shit hole went.
I spent the entire first playthrough in a state of mounting horror.
Each heroine, who should have been an ally, turned into a traitor.
They weren't just being disloyal; they were the most detestable, hateful, disgusting characters imaginable.
"How the fuck did they come up with this Idea, some creativity are supposed to be hidden as I thought!!!" I shout.
Every interaction felt like a punch to the gut. I mean, seriously, who the fuck writes this stuff?
By the end of the night, I was cursing my dear cousin with the fervor of a sailor who'd stubbed his toe on an anchor.
The more I played, the more determined I became to outwit these characters, to make them suffer as they had me suffer.
So I kept at it, replaying scenes, making different choices, trying to twist the story in my favor.
As stated, the characters are powered by advance Ai, which means... It was possible to twist the story in however way I desired.
By the 30th replay, I was seething.
Steam was practically coming out of my ears. This wasn't just a game anymore; it was personal, fucking personal.
Every betrayal, every sneer from those pixelated harpies, every smug grin from the so called "heroes" was like a dagger in my side.
I needed a target for my rage, and luckily, I had two: ••••, the master manipulator, and the game's producer, who clearly had a vendetta against happiness.
"••••! You absolute daughter of a—" I screamed into the empty room, startling my neighbor's cat on the windowsill.
"You set me up, you swine! May all your favourite snacks mold just enough to make it sour and sudden diarrhea befell you whenever you are out in public."
But she wasn't there to hear my tirade, so I turned my ire to the screen.
"And you!" I jabbed a finger at the crying protagonist's handsome face.
"You're supposed to be the hero? How the fuck is that possible? My grandma's garden gnome shows more backbone than you! Grow a spine, you little shit! Where are all your testosterone?!"
Then came the heroines.
Oh, whores. "You think you're so clever, don't you? Coasting around with your silky hair and doe eyes. I'd rather kiss a cactus than deal with your ass hairs."
I could feel the veins visible through my skin all over my body, but I ignored it.
"And to the producer, wherever you are, I hope your socks are forever wet, your favorite shows get canceled, and you step on a Lego every morning for the rest of your miserable life."
I continued, "Who, Who, Who hurt you so badly, you sadistic cretin? Did a puppy bite you when you were a child? Were you drop very often as a baby? Do you get some sick pleasure out of ruining happiness? If I ever meet you, I swear, I'll—"
I paused, trying to think a creative adjectives.
Just then my phone buzzed, and I glanced at the screen to see a text from •••: "How's the game?"
I fired back. "How's the game? HOW'S THE GAME? It's a sadistic nightmare designed by the devil himself! May you stub your toes every single day for eternity!"
Her reply was quick: "LOL. Keep playing. You'll love them. But No Spoilers."
"Lol. Lol???" I fired back again. She didn't reply.
"Oh, I'll keep playing, alright. I'll keep playing until I've dismantled this digital torture device piece by piece."
I dove back in with a renewed sense of vengeance.
Every time the heroines betrayed the hero, I made it my mission to ruin their lives in the most creative ways possible.
If they wanted to play dirty, I'd show them how filthy I could get.
I replayed the game over and over, each time finding new ways to disrupt the plot without them realizing I was the mastermind.
If the heroines were going to be awful, I was going to be worse.
I twisted their fates in ways that would make a Greek tragedian weep.
They wanted betrayal? I'd give them one. That by the person they chose to be with, after they betrayed me, the player.
By the end of my marathon session, I'd managed to concoct an ending so bleak, so utterly devoid of hope, that even I almost felt a twinge of pity. ALMOST.
And then, after countless sleepless nights and more caffeine than is legally advisable, I did it.
I crafted the perfect ending—an ending so dark and twisted it would make Edgar Allan Poe shiver.
The heroines' fates were sealed, each one more miserable than the last.
It was so twisted and cruel that I couldn't help but wince a little. Well, a wince of victory as I'd like to call it.
"The Graphic though... absolutely phenomenal."
As I finally leaned back after the campaign, I realized that my body was aching from the lack of movement.
Even still, a winning grin was plastered across my face, I was exhausted but victorious.
I vowed that as soon as she come over again, I'd make her pay, I'd twist her cheeks so bad they'd swell for at least a month.
But for now, sleep was claiming me, and for the first time in days, I welcomed it.
As I stood up a sudden diziness hit me, though it was probably due to the blood flows suddenly shifting across my body.
So, I stretched around and smiled in smug satisfaction, but, a wave of exhaustion hit me like a freight train.
My vision suddenly blurred, my head spun, and then—darkness...