Hiroshi hadn't planned to buy it that day.
He had gone to Akihabara to look for a replacement keyboard for his PC-9801. The previous one had a sunken key, and coding like that was a torment. He walked slowly, dodging people, looking at shop windows out of habit rather than interest.
Then he saw the cover.
He recognized the name immediately.
The sequel.
He had played the first Aoi game to the end. Not because it was famous, but because it felt different. Less noisy. Quieter. More attentive to what the player did rather than telling them what to do.
He picked up the box.Read the description. Ruins. Global exploration. Refined survival.
–"Hmm…" – he murmured.
He didn't hesitate for long.
That night, after dinner, he turned on his PC. Inserted the first disk. The system loaded with that familiar, mechanical, almost soothing sound.
The initial animation appeared.
The sea was no longer the protagonist.Now there were fast images: old documents, incomplete maps, an older Aoi adjusting her gear, a silhouette of ruins emerging from the mist.
–"Oh…"
It wasn't spectacular.It was intriguing.
When he took control, he noticed immediately.
Movement was smoother. Actions responded better. No unnecessary menus. Everything felt… considered.
He explored a rocky coast. Found remains of a partially buried ancient structure. No marker. No arrow.Just curiosity.
He tried interacting with an eroded wall. The character commented on something. Nothing important. But when he walked around the structure, he found a hidden entrance.
–"Really?" – he smiled.
The hunt was familiar, but more precise. Combat punished mistakes, but didn't frustrate. Resource management demanded attention, not memorization.
Hiroshi lost track of time.
He discovered an underground ruin. Activated an ancient mechanism without fully understanding it. Took notes in a notebook, like he did with games worth playing.
By the time he saved the game, it was already early morning.
He stared at the screen for a few seconds.
He didn't feel the typical "this is amazing" euphoria.He felt something better.
–"This game trusts me," – he said quietly.
The next day, at work, he mentioned it to a colleague.
–"Did you play it?" ––"Yes," – Hiroshi replied.–"And I don't think I'll forget it anytime soon."
He didn't know who made it.He didn't know the engine.He didn't care about the studio's story.
He only knew one thing.
He had bought a sequel.And he had found something that genuinely felt new.