There’s a saying that goes, “Just because something is popular doesn’t mean it’s for everyone.” I think that’s one of the biggest lessons I learned while playing Final Fantasy III Pixel Remaster. Going into the game, I expected another memorable journey through one of gaming’s most beloved RPG franchises.

After all, I’d already played several Final Fantasy titles over the years, and many of them had become some of my favorite gaming experiences. I figured this would simply be another classic adventure to add to that list.

Instead, I walked away with something completely different.

That doesn’t mean Final Fantasy III is a bad game. Far from it. It’s a game that helped shape the future of the series and introduced ideas that would influence RPGs for years to come.

I can appreciate its place in gaming history and understand why so many fans continue to speak highly of it. But appreciation and enjoyment aren’t always the same thing.

As I spent more time with the game, I slowly realized that it wasn’t the game itself that was the problem. The problem was my expectations and, more importantly, how my own tastes as an RPG player have changed over the years.

What once may have appealed to me no longer did. The more I played, the more I realized I wasn’t looking for the same kind of experience that Final Fantasy III was designed to offer.

Sometimes a game teaches you more about yourself than it does about the game. That’s exactly what happened here. Final Fantasy III didn’t make me question whether it was a good RPG. It made me question what I truly enjoy in an RPG today.

Looking back, I don’t regret playing it at all because it helped me better understand the type of adventures I look forward to and the kind of gameplay that keeps me invested from beginning to end.

Final Fantasy III Was Different from Other RPGs, but Bad – Different –

One of the things that made many classic RPGs so enjoyable was the freedom to replenish your resources. Whether it was restoring health with Potions or refilling magic with Ethers, most games eventually gave you reliable ways to stay in the adventure. Then there’s Final Fantasy III, which decided to do things very differently.

The biggest offender for me was the spell charge system.

There are no Ethers in the game. None.

Instead, every spell you learn belongs to a specific spell level, and each level has a limited number of uses. Let’s say you only have six Level 1 spell charges. That means you can only cast spells from that tier six times before you’re completely out and forced to find an inn to recover them.

Get that shit out my face, bro!

Seriously, fifteen-year-old me would’ve been just as frustrated. This isn’t what I wanted from an RPG, especially one that’s considered one of the foundational entries in the Final Fantasy series. I expected more from the Pixel Remaster, and instead I found myself constantly babysitting my magic instead of enjoying the adventure.

The resource management only made things worse. As someone who’s spent years playing RPGs, I know exactly what I enjoy: exploring, experimenting, and using my abilities without feeling like every spell has to be saved for an emergency.

Final Fantasy III constantly pushed me in the opposite direction. Resources felt scarce, Elixirs were incredibly rare, and without Ethers there was no practical way to replenish magic outside of resting at an inn.

The irony isn’t lost on me. The game gives you one of the rarest recovery items in RPG history—the Elixir—but leaves out one of the most useful: the Ether. To me, that’s a baffling design choice.

What bothered me even more was being locked into a small selection of spells. If I wanted Fire, Blizzard, and Aero, those were my options until I decided to swap them out. Want to use Fira, Thundaga, or another spell later? Time to reorganize your spell list all over again.

That’s where the game completely lost me.

Winning a difficult boss fight with the perfect spell should feel satisfying. Instead, I found myself thinking about reorganizing my spell setup for the next battle. That constant maintenance pulled me out of the adventure and turned what should have been exciting victories into extra busywork.

For me, that wasn’t challenging.

It was simply exhausting.

Constant Conservation Killed the Game –

It cannot be argued that every RPG is created differently, and that’s perfectly fine. Variety is one of the reasons the genre has remained so popular over the years.

But the constant need to conserve resources throughout Final Fantasy III ultimately killed the experience for me. Instead of enjoying the adventure, I found myself saving nearly everything because there always seemed to be a bigger threat waiting around the corner.

That’s one of the biggest reasons Final Fantasy III wasn’t the RPG I was looking for.

The game places a tremendous emphasis on conservation. High Potions, Phoenix Downs, and spell charges all felt too valuable to use freely because there was always the possibility that the next dungeon or boss would demand even more from me.

Suddenly, every decision became a gamble. Do I use my last High Potion now and keep my party alive, or do I save it because the next battle might be even worse?

On paper, that’s an interesting form of resource management.

For me, it became exhausting.

The problem only became more noticeable while exploring the world map. Instead of getting excited about discovering new towns or dungeons, I found myself constantly checking my inventory, counting my supplies, and wondering if I had enough resources to survive whatever came next.

The exploration itself became more stressful than many of the enemies I was fighting.

There were moments where I’d be walking through the world thinking, “I’d better check my supplies… great, I’m out of High Potions, and I just used my last Elixir on that giant enemy with 1,500 HP. Yeah… good for me.”

That wasn’t the feeling I wanted from an RPG.

I want exploration to create curiosity, not anxiety. I want to think about the next town, the next story moment, or the next boss—not whether I’ve conserved enough resources to justify taking another step.

For me, that’s where Final Fantasy III lost much of its magic.

My Fight With Gutsco, Kind of Blah –

One battle that perfectly summed up my experience with Final Fantasy III was the fight against the Demon of Fire, Gutsco. Going into the battle, I expected a fairly straightforward encounter. Fire enemies are naturally weak to Ice magic, so I figured I’d simply exploit his weakness and move on.

It wasn’t that simple.

At the time, I only had one Black Mage capable of casting offensive magic. While Blizzard spells were exactly what the fight called for, they were also limited by the spell charge system.

Since Blizzaga belonged to a higher spell tier, I only had a handful of casts before my mage was completely drained.

That left me in an awkward position.

Do I spend my remaining spell charges now and hope it’s enough to finish the battle, or do I hold back and risk dragging the fight out even longer?

The boss itself wasn’t what frustrated me.

The magic system was.

Ironically, when I later sat down to write my strategy guide for Gutsco, I realized how little there was to say.

My advice basically came down to:

“Use your Ice spells.”

That was it.

There wasn’t some elaborate strategy, clever mechanic, or interesting decision to explain. The battle simply expected me to use the correct elemental spell until the boss went down. The problem wasn’t figuring out what to do—it was having enough spell charges to keep doing it.

That’s when everything finally clicked.

I realized Final Fantasy III wasn’t challenging me in the way I enjoy. It wasn’t asking me to develop better strategies or adapt to creative mechanics. Instead, I found myself worrying about conserving spell charges and squeezing every last bit of magic out of my Black Mage.

Gutsco wasn’t the moment I realized the boss was difficult.

He was the moment I realized the game’s resource management simply wasn’t the kind of RPG experience I was looking for.

The RPG Player I’ve Become Over The Years –

Over the years, I’ve developed very high standards when it comes to RPGs. Games like Final Fantasy VII, Final Fantasy IX, and Chrono Trigger are the reason I became the RPG fan I am today. Those weren’t just games I played—they helped shape what I look for every time I pick up a new adventure.

Those games didn’t impress me because they were long.

They impressed me because they were simple.

You attacked. The enemy attacked. You managed your Magic Points, learned new abilities naturally as you leveled up, and the game trusted you to experiment with everything it gave you.

There were very few surprises in how those systems worked, which meant I could spend more time enjoying the adventure than trying to understand the mechanics.

That’s exactly the kind of RPG experience I enjoy.

Another thing I appreciated was how those games rewarded progression. Instead of constantly buying spells from shops or worrying about limited spell charges, I looked forward to leveling up because I knew new abilities were waiting for me.

Every level felt like meaningful progress rather than another opportunity to manage scarce resources.

That’s where Final Fantasy III and I went our separate ways.

The game asks you to constantly think about conservation, spell slots, and resource management. The RPGs that shaped me asked me to think about strategy, exploration, and discovering what came next. Neither approach is objectively wrong, but one fits my playstyle far better than the other.

Looking back, I don’t think Final Fantasy III had bad ideas.

I simply realized those ideas weren’t what I wanted from an RPG.

I’d much rather have the freedom to use the abilities I’ve earned than spend my time compensating for systems that constantly tell me to hold back.

That’s the kind of RPG player I’ve become, and Final Fantasy III helped me understand that more clearly than any game before it. and that’s exactly what you did when it came to FF3.

I prefer to have all of my cards on the table vs. working up to them like I have to in FF3.

Does That Make FF3 A Bad RPG –

Based on everything I’ve experienced, it’s fair to ask one question:

Does this make Final Fantasy III a bad RPG?

The simple answer is no.

I have no doubt the developers poured their hearts into this game, and considering its place in Final Fantasy history, it’s easy to see why so many people still appreciate it today. The mechanics, progression, and overall design clearly resonated with a generation of players.

The problem wasn’t that the game failed.

The problem was that it wasn’t the kind of RPG I was looking for.

Today, I know exactly what I enjoy from the genre. I like RPGs that give me the freedom to use my abilities, explore without constantly worrying about conserving resources, and reward me for experimenting instead of holding everything back for a future battle.

Final Fantasy III asks you to play much more cautiously, and while many players genuinely enjoy that style of gameplay, I discovered that I don’t.

I’m sure there are gamers who love the strict resource management, the limited spell charges, and the constant planning that comes with every dungeon. For them, that’s part of the challenge and part of the fun.

For me, it wasn’t.

That doesn’t take away from what Final Fantasy III accomplished or the impact it had on the series. If anything, playing it helped me better understand my own preferences as an RPG player.

That’s the real lesson here.

Just because a game belongs to one of gaming’s greatest franchises doesn’t automatically mean it’s going to fit your personal playstyle. Sometimes a great game simply isn’t the right game for you, and Final Fantasy III taught me that lesson better than any RPG I’ve played.

Final Fantasy 3 Taught Me A Lesson –

In closing, Final Fantasy III helped me appreciate my own preferences as an RPG player. After spending years playing games across the genre, I’ve developed a clear understanding of what I enjoy and what keeps me invested in an adventure. Final Fantasy III simply wasn’t built around those preferences.

That’s perfectly okay.

Many RPGs share the same foundation: turn-based combat, magic, character progression, and large worlds to explore. What separates them is how those systems come together.

For me, games like Final Fantasy VII, Final Fantasy IX, and Chrono Trigger found that balance perfectly. They gave me the freedom to experiment, rewarded exploration, and never made me feel like I had to fight the game’s mechanics just to enjoy the journey.

I never reached the end of Final Fantasy III. In fact, I didn’t even make it halfway through. Not because I thought the game was impossible, but because I realized I was spending more time wishing it were a different kind of RPG than appreciating it for what it was.

I could start a new playthrough of Final Fantasy IX today and immediately feel at home. Final Fantasy III never gave me that same feeling.

Some games simply aren’t meant for everyone, and that’s one of the biggest lessons this experience taught me. Not every RPG—even one from a legendary franchise—is going to fit every player’s style.

And that’s okay.

No gamer is meant to love every game they play. Some become lifelong favorites, while others simply help us better understand what we truly enjoy. Final Fantasy III wasn’t the RPG I was looking for, but it did give me something just as valuable: a deeper understanding of the kind of RPG player I’ve become.

If you’re looking for more RPGs that shaped my journey as a gamer, check out my Benable list where I share some of my favorite role-playing games and why I recommend them.

https://benable.com/RoddyMcG/retro-rpgs-that-shaped-my-gaming-preferences

Intro –

For years, one of the biggest debates in gaming has centered around one simple question: Is it better to own your games physically or digitally? It’s a conversation that never seems to end.

With each passing day, the same arguments come back stronger than ever.

One side believes physical media is the only true way to own your games, while the other embraces the convenience of digital libraries. Both sides make valid points, and for a long time, I found myself thinking about those arguments too.

The more I thought about it, however, the more I realized something surprising. I wasn’t spending my time enjoying the games I already owned—I was worrying about what might happen to them years from now. Would digital storefronts disappear?

Would physical discs eventually stop working? Would future consoles still support today’s games? The more questions I asked, the more I realized there was no perfect answer.

Then it finally hit me.

Nothing lasts forever.

Not physical discs. Not cartridges. Not hard drives. Not digital storefronts. Not consoles. Even the games we love will eventually become relics of another era.

Once I accepted that reality, something changed. Instead of worrying about preserving my collection forever, I started focusing on what really mattered: enjoying the games I have today, adapting when the industry changes, and refusing to let fear of the future keep me from appreciating the present.

This isn’t an article about proving that physical gaming is better than digital, or that digital is somehow the future everyone should embrace. It’s about the mindset that helped me step away from a debate that has no permanent winner.

More importantly, it’s about why I believe our time is better spent creating memories with the games we love than worrying about whether we’ll own them forever.

Why the Physical vs. Digital Debate Never Seem to End?

People have spent a good portion of their time arguing that physical games are on their way out. Many believe it’ll mark the end of game ownership as they’ve always known it.

On the other side, many digital supporters—myself included—have argued that this change is inevitable and that fighting it is ultimately a waste of time.

While I understand why so many gamers are passionate about this issue, believing that if they spend their hard-earned money on a game, it should be theirs to keep, collect, and enjoy however they see fit, I’ve always looked at things a little differently.

Even years ago, I had a feeling that physical media would eventually begin fading into the background. Call it a collective hunch, but I always believed the industry was moving in that direction.

For many physical game collectors, it feels like Sony has betrayed them. To wake up one day and realize that one of your favorite gaming companies is moving in a direction you never wanted can be frustrating. Many feel like their voices aren’t being heard.

They worry that if Sony can make a decision like this today, what might they do tomorrow? To them, it represents a company becoming too focused on control and profit rather than the players who supported them for years.

Truth be told, though, I don’t really care about this debate anymore. I’ve been pro-digital since the PlayStation 4 era, and I made peace with that decision a long time ago. Whether Sony embraces an all-digital future today, five years from now, or even during the PlayStation 7 generation, it doesn’t really change anything for me.

The industry was always going to evolve. Fighting against that reality won’t stop it from happening. Once I accepted that, I stopped worrying about trying to preserve gaming forever and started focusing on something far more important—enjoying the games I have today.

I Made My Peace With Digital Gaming, Here’s Why –

As I mentioned earlier, I’ve been part of the digital age since late 2017 during the PlayStation 4 era. Looking back, there are a number of benefits I’ve enjoyed since making that decision.

The biggest one is convenience. My entire game library is right there whenever I turn on my console. I don’t have to get up to swap discs, worry about where I left a game, or wonder if someone borrowed it and forgot to bring it back. Everything I own is organized in one place, ready whenever I decide it’s time to play.

Going digital also meant saying goodbye to something I don’t miss at all—driving to a store, standing in line, and hoping the game I preordered actually arrived on time. More than once, people were told to come back later because the shipment hadn’t arrived yet. Those days never bothered me to leave behind.

Today, if I want a game, I can buy it directly from Sony’s website or straight from my console. Within minutes it’s downloading, and whether I play it immediately or wait until next week or next month, it’ll still be sitting in my library waiting for me.

There’s no scrambling to find a copy, no wondering if the shelves are empty because everyone else had the same idea.

That’s ultimately why I stopped worrying so much about owning games forever. The only thing that truly matters is playing them, enjoying them, and eventually beating them before moving on to the next adventure.

Nothing in life is permanent, and gaming is no exception. To me, the industry’s shift toward digital always felt inevitable. Life has a way of reminding us that change is coming whether we’re ready for it or not, and I’ve learned it’s far better to adapt than spend my time worrying about what I can’t control.

Why I Didn’t Follow The Crowd, By Choice –

When the physical versus digital debate really started gaining traction, I was sitting on my throne enjoying a game of Yu-Gi-Oh! Master Duel, focusing on my combos and celebrating a good winning hand.

I didn’t make it my life’s mission to worry about why so many people wanted to stop Sony from moving away from physical discs. None of that held my attention because, as I’ve already mentioned, enjoying the games I was playing in that moment was all that really mattered to me.

Whether I was playing 007 First Light, Chronicles of the Wolf, or Prince of Persia: The Lost Crown, those games deserved my energy far more than worrying about what might happen years down the road. I’d rather spend my time creating new gaming memories than arguing over a future I couldn’t control.

I think that’s why I was able to “see the future” without letting it consume me. Because I had already accepted that change was coming, I wasn’t burdened by it. I was too busy enjoying the present to spend every day worrying about tomorrow.

I remember finally deciding to weigh in on what I considered a pointless debate. Someone in the group asked me, “Why are you acting like this doesn’t affect you too?”

My answer was simple.

“I made my peace with this long ago. That’s given me more than enough time to adapt instead of sitting here breathing fire like everyone else. I’d rather spend that time getting excited for games like Phantom Blade Zero and Wolverine.”

The more you fight change, the more that change begins to consume your thoughts. That’s no way to enjoy gaming, especially when your voice is only one among millions trying to overturn a decision that has already been made.

And, at the risk of playing devil’s advocate, there are genuine benefits to both physical and digital ownership. Recognizing that is exactly why I chose to wash my hands of the debate. I’d rather spend my time playing games than arguing about how everyone else should.

Physical Ownership, Forever; Ha! –

You know, all of these people arguing, fighting, signing petitions, and pouring their energy into stopping an all-digital future seem to forget one simple fact:

Nothing lasts forever.

And to put a finer point on it, the only way something you treasure lasts forever is if you’re around forever—which none of us are. Discs wear out. Cartridges eventually fail. Consoles age. Every piece of gaming hardware has an expiration date. All of it.

Think about it. Even during the PlayStation 3 era, when physical discs were still the norm, plenty of people were already choosing to buy their games digitally. Long before that, cartridges were beginning to show their age, and as hardware gets older, it becomes more difficult to keep everything running the way it once did.

Sure, you could argue that owning a PlayStation 1, PlayStation 2, or even a Sega Genesis means your collection will live on. Maybe it will. Maybe it won’t. But the older that hardware becomes, the greater the chance something eventually fails. Time has a way of catching up to everything. That’s why I’ve never believed gaming is about preserving something forever. It’s about enjoying it while you have it.

I’ve always tried to keep an open mind in an ever-changing world, so it wasn’t difficult for me to accept that gaming was gradually moving toward an all-digital future.

Looking back at my childhood, there were countless games I wanted to play but couldn’t. My copy of Ninja Gaiden II on the NES eventually stopped working, and I never wanted to wake up another day unable to play a game I was, for lack of a better word, fiending to experience.

That’s why having reliable access to my games became more important to me than debating the format they came in. Gaming has always mattered to me, and so has being able to sit down and play whenever I feel like it.

If there’s one lesson I hope other gamers take away from all of this, it’s that the future shouldn’t consume the present. Whether your games are physical or digital, if you can play them today, then today is what deserves your attention—not spending every waking hour arguing about what might happen years from now.

Hell, right now I’m working my way through New Super Mario Bros. U Deluxe on my Nintendo Switch. That’s a far better use of my time than arguing online about a decision Sony has already made. No amount of debates, petitions, or angry comment sections is going to change the direction they’ve chosen.

And, in case you hadn’t already put two and two together, yes—I’m playing that game digitally.

Sony saw a reason to move in this direction, and whether people like it or not, it’s happening. You can spend your days arguing about it if you want. Me?

I’d rather spend mine beating another game. As for the people at the top making those decisions… they’re probably sitting comfortably in their offices while the internet keeps arguing. That’s another reason I decided my time was better spent playing games than fighting a battle I was never going to win.

Why Enjoying Games Today Is Far More Important Than Worrying About Tomorrow –

Simply put, I love gaming. Over the course of my life, I’ve beaten well over 1,000 games. And you know why? Not just because I’ve become a skilled gamer, but because I learned early on how to focus on what really matters when I pick up a controller: me and the game in front of me. Period.

Sure, I could’ve died the next day, the following week, or even later that month. But even if that had happened, I would’ve left this world with one more gaming memory that no one could ever take away from me.

At one point, that memory was Castlevania III: Dracula’s Curse. Every time I played it, I chose my favorite route—Alucard’s route—through the Sunken City and beyond. Those experiences became part of my life, and nothing can erase them.

That’s the thing about gaming memories—you can’t replace them. They’re tied to the experiences you have while playing, not to whether the game sits on a shelf or in a digital library.

I understand why many people are upset with Sony’s direction and why they feel disappointed by the company’s changing strategy. But those debates don’t change the memories people are making every single day while playing the games they already own.

If someone told me they were constantly worrying about the future of gaming, my response would be simple:

“Why aren’t you playing right now? What are you waiting for?”

Every day, someone somewhere is creating the next great video game. The memories you build from the games you’ve played, the challenges you’ve overcome, and the adventures you’ve completed are the things that stay with you for the rest of your life.

That’s one of the biggest reasons I stopped worrying about owning games forever. I don’t spend my time fearing what might happen years from now.

I’d rather enjoy the moment—blasting enemies, dodging attacks, and striking down whatever stands in my way. To me, true ownership has never been about possessing a game forever. It’s about the memories that game leaves with you long after you’ve put the controller down.

Adapting Is Better Than Change –

Over the years, the gaming industry has changed tremendously. We’ve gone from simple computer screens to cartridges, from cartridges to compact discs, and now to an era where many games don’t require a disc at all.

I’ve watched every major shift the industry has made, and to me, it’s simply doing what every successful industry eventually has to do—change. That doesn’t automatically make those changes bad.

There was a time when I believed a game belonged on the console it was originally released for. If it came out on the PlayStation 2, then in my mind, that’s where it should stay. Looking back, I realize that was a purist mindset.

Over time, many of those same games found new life on the PlayStation 3, PlayStation 4, and eventually the PlayStation 5. Games from years ago continue returning for new generations of players, bringing the same experiences that made us fall in love with them in the first place.

Take Wild Arms 4, for example. It recently arrived on the PlayStation 4 and PlayStation 5, complete with additional features that make revisiting it even more enjoyable.

The game itself didn’t lose what made it special—it simply adapted to a new generation of hardware. Seeing that reminded me that I could adapt too.

I still have PlayStation 1 and PlayStation 2 memory cards tucked away somewhere. If I tried accessing some of those save files today, there’s a good chance it wouldn’t be easy.

Yet now I can revisit many older games on modern hardware, complete with built-in save features and other quality-of-life improvements. That’s why I believe the future of gaming is bright.

It doesn’t require us to fear change—it simply asks us to adapt to it. I’d rather spend my time embracing those opportunities than fighting a future that was always going to arrive.

A Back Up Plan is Necessary if You Think It Is –

In light of Sony’s push toward an increasingly digital future, some people believe that if they keep fighting long enough, the company will eventually reverse course and continue supporting physical discs.

Personally, I don’t expect that to happen. If I truly believed a company was moving in a direction I didn’t like, my energy wouldn’t be spent trying to change its mind—it would be spent preparing for what comes next. If physical games were that important to me, I’d be buying the titles I wanted now instead of hoping the company eventually changed course.

Preparing for the future has always made more sense to me than fighting against something I can’t control.

That’s one of the reasons I took the time to make sure I could play many of my digital games offline. I didn’t do it because I was afraid of the future—I did it because having a backup plan lets me stop worrying and get back to enjoying my games.

That’s the biggest difference between worrying and planning. Worrying keeps you focused on what might happen. Planning gives you something you can actually do.

Whether someone chooses physical or digital isn’t really the point. The point is having a plan that lets you keep gaming instead of spending years fighting a battle that may never be won.

There is a cost to every decision we make. Collect every physical game you can if that’s what brings you peace of mind. Go digital if that fits your lifestyle better. Neither path is free. The mistake, in my opinion, is letting fear of the future keep you from enjoying the games you have today.

Don’t Be Sheep, Think For Yourselves! –

To wrap things up, I want to make one thing clear: I don’t let anyone tell me what to think.

The internet is full of people who believe they know what’s best for complete strangers, and gaming is no exception. Some people are convinced Sony is going to take away far more than physical media, and they’re determined to convince everyone else to believe the same thing.

The problem is that outrage spreads much faster than facts. People see one headline, one rumor, or one announcement and immediately assume the worst before the full picture is even available.

That’s one of the reasons I spend far less time on social media these days. I’d rather spend my energy playing games than feeding endless arguments about what might happen years from now.

I know what I want from gaming. I want to wake up, grab one of my consoles, sit down at my game desk, and lose myself in a great game for hours.

I’m not going to let fear about the future rob me of the enjoyment I can have today. If Sony changes something tomorrow, I’ll deal with it tomorrow. Until then, I’m going to keep playing.

So my message is simple: stop worrying so much about what Sony might do and start enjoying the games you already have. January 2028 is still a long way off.

That’s plenty of time to make plans if you need to. Until then, get your priorities straight, fire up your favorite game, and make memories that will stay with you long after the debate is over.

Because tomorrow isn’t promised.

That’s why I game today instead of worrying about forever ownership.rt worrying about what Sony is doing and play your games, January 2028 is a little bit from now; you have collectively, a year and a half to worry about anything let alone what hand Sony shows.

Get your shit together and go game with the time you have with your games now because as they say, tomorrow isn’t promised. That’s why I game today and not worry about forever ownership!

Gaming is about the experiences we create, not just the games we own. If you’re looking for some of the games that have shaped my perspective over the years, check out my companion Benable list below. You might just find your next great adventure.

https://benable.com/RoddyMcG/games-that-prove-great-memories-matter-more-than-ownership

Intro –

Valis I is often overlooked when compared to blockbuster franchises like Call of Duty or Star Wars. What many gamers don’t realize, however, is that it’s the kind of experience that makes you appreciate exactly what it sets out to be.

On the surface, it may look like nothing more than a young girl running around with a sword defeating enemies, but there’s much more beneath that simple premise.

Having now beaten the game myself, I found there was a lot to love about the experience—but I’ll get into that shortly. Even after 34 years, Valis I can still provide hours of fun and entertainment.

Don’t let its straightforward presentation fool you. The learning curve is there, and while the game feels approachable, you’ll definitely have to earn your victories.

I come before you today not just as someone who finished Valis I, but as a gamer who can confidently say it remains just as enjoyable today as it was when it was first released.

It still delivers a quality experience and rewards players who approach it with an open mind. In many ways, modern games could take a page from Valis I’s book when it comes to simplicity.

No tutorials. No lengthy explanations of the controls. No lectures about how to use Yuko and her sword. You simply jump in and play.

Simple.

The Hidden Strength of Valis I, Simplicity –

When you think about Valis I, you might expect a game filled with lengthy dialogue and story events before it finally lets you play.

Instead, what makes it so easy to pick up is that it gets straight to the point. You’re not spending the first five minutes trying to absorb tutorials, mechanics, or pages of exposition like many modern games ask you to do.

Valis I has a much simpler message: pick up the controller, step into its world, and start kicking ass. That’s what makes it so inviting. The red carpet of modern gaming expectations simply doesn’t exist here. Like many classic games of its era, the only real expectation is simple: don’t die.

That’s one of the biggest reasons the game resonated with me. It isn’t trying to impress players with endless systems, overpowered weapons, or complicated mechanics.

At its core, it’s about a young girl with a sword trying to make sense of her reality, and the gameplay reflects that straightforward approach.

Another thing I appreciated was that Valis I wasn’t trying to imitate what other games were doing. It created its own identity instead of chasing trends. In many ways, that’s where modern games sometimes stumble—they become so focused on adding more that they forget how effective simplicity can be.

The design revolves around exploring, gaining new abilities, uncovering the story one piece at a time, and learning how to overcome each challenge. That focused approach is what keeps the experience engaging.

Sometimes I wish we could return to the days of games like Valis I, where the focus was simply on gaining new powers, discovering boss weaknesses, mastering your abilities, and relying on quick thinking to succeed.

That’s what made Valis I so enjoyable right from the start. No complicated rhetoric—just great gameplay.

Every Special Weapon Has a Purpose –

One of the best things about Valis I is that you’re not limited to using just your sword. Throughout the adventure, you can enhance it with a variety of special weapons that each offer something different.

While I experimented with all of them, the Hunter quickly became my favorite. Every swing of the sword released seeker projectiles that automatically tracked nearby enemies, making combat feel both satisfying and reliable.

The Hunter became the only special weapon I used from beginning to end, and I had two reasons for making that decision.

First, I wanted to challenge myself. I wanted to see if I could complete the entire game using the weapon I enjoyed the most instead of constantly switching between abilities. Fortunately, that challenge paid off.

Second—and more importantly—the Hunter fit the way I wanted to play. I wasn’t looking for the easiest route through the game. I wanted a weapon that could handle almost every situation despite whatever weaknesses it might have.

The Hunter did exactly that. It reduced surprise attacks, kept enemies under control, and made boss battles feel more manageable without removing the challenge.

Even though I eventually settled on the Hunter, I did experiment with every special weapon, including the Arc Shot and the Saber.

They all have their strengths, but the Hunter simply suited my playstyle better. As it became stronger, enemies were less likely to catch me off guard, and boss fights became much smoother.

Another feature I really appreciated was that defeating bosses rewarded you with new abilities. My favorite by far was the Rune Barrier. Its defensive capabilities proved incredibly useful whenever I found myself in trouble.

While it required a moderate amount of magic to use, that was a small price to pay when I needed extra protection or simply wanted more time to study a boss’s attack patterns before going on the offensive.

Valis I, Short but Memorable –

Taking my time to explore and enjoy the experience, I finished Valis I in about 18 in-game hours. Even the final battle, despite having two phases, didn’t take nearly as long as I expected.

The only part that really slowed me down was learning Rogles’ attack patterns, and even that took less than ten minutes once I settled in and paid attention.

Modern games often try to give players the most bang for their buck by stretching the experience with larger worlds, longer campaigns, and countless side activities.

There’s nothing inherently wrong with that, but Valis I proves you can still get tremendous value from a shorter adventure. A focused game can leave a lasting impression without demanding dozens of hours of your time.

In fact, I’d argue that long games are more likely to consume your available playtime than a shorter game is to disappoint your wallet. Think about that for a second.

What really sold me on Valis I was its focus. It never tried to pad the adventure with unnecessary endgame filler or distract players with puzzles that pulled attention away from the action.

Everything revolved around Yuko’s mission to save both worlds. Rogles’ lieutenants appeared, challenged you, and once they were defeated, the adventure kept moving. There were no unnecessary detours—just a clear objective from beginning to end.

Valis I proves that a game’s length isn’t what makes it memorable—its quality does. That’s also one of the reasons it’s worth replaying. You can experiment with different special weapons instead of following the path I chose, use it as the perfect palate cleanser after a long RPG, or simply enjoy the freedom to play at your own pace.

Thanks to the save system, you never feel pressured to finish everything in one sitting. You decide when to stop and when to continue, and that control makes returning to the game even more enjoyable. can stop wherever, even during boss battles. You have the control.

Observation vs. Panic, The Boss’s Reward –

The boss that challenged me the most was, ironically, the final boss himself—Rogles. His attack patterns weren’t especially complicated, but he definitely made me earn the victory.

There were several moments where I nearly got caught because I was constantly watching his movements, deciding when to dodge, when to slide, and when to stay out of range. Success wasn’t about attacking nonstop—it was about reacting correctly to everything he did.

When Rogles entered his second form, it felt like he had changed his strategy. Even so, most of his attacks were readable once I paid close attention. He spent much of the fight darting through the air before positioning himself to swing his mace.

The key was sliding underneath him as he landed, keeping yourself just outside the reach of that attack before immediately going back on the offensive.

It was a demanding battle, and without Rewind I probably would’ve died a couple of times. Even so, I never felt like I needed endless patience. I simply needed to understand what the fight was asking me to do.

I’ve always been the type of gamer who reads boss patterns during the battle instead of stopping to study them afterward. For me, victory comes from recognizing what to watch for rather than simply landing as many hits as possible.

With Rogles, once I realized he almost always swung his mace immediately after landing from one of his aerial dashes, I knew exactly how to react depending on where he landed.

By the end of both phases, Rogles had definitely given me a run for my money. He was easily the toughest boss in the game, but he also perfectly demonstrated what makes Valis I’s boss fights so satisfying: they reward observation, adaptation, and good timing far more than blind aggression.

Valis I Reminded Me Why I Love Classic Action Games –

I can’t say there was one specific moment that made me appreciate classic action games again—it was really the entire experience. When you stop and think about what makes the genre so enjoyable, Valis I checks all the right boxes.

That’s why I believe it’s such an underrated hidden gem. In many ways, it belongs in the same conversation as classics like Contra, Super Mario Bros., and The Legend of Zelda.

The controls felt responsive, the pacing was excellent, and by the time I reached the ending, I honestly felt like I could’ve started another playthrough right away. That’s the sign of a game that leaves a lasting impression.

I also appreciated how the cutscenes gave just enough story to keep me invested without interrupting the flow of the action. They helped explain what was happening and where Yuko’s journey was headed without overstaying their welcome.

That’s one of the reasons classic action games continue to be enjoyable years after their release.

They focus on what matters most: solid gameplay, responsive controls, and a clear objective. Instead of constantly stopping to teach you another mechanic or overwhelming you with unnecessary complexity, they trust you to pick up the controller and simply play.

For me, that’s a big part of why games like Valis I remain so rewarding decades later.

Valis I is Still Playable In the Present Day –

To conclude, based on my experience, I’d recommend Valis I to anyone who enjoys anime or appreciates action games that don’t overstay their welcome. I’d especially recommend it to players who’ve never heard of the series before. It’s one of those games that quietly earns a place in your collection because it’s memorable, focused, and simply fun to play.

One of the biggest surprises for me was its length. I expected each stage to have multiple sub-levels like later entries in the series, but Valis I took a much more direct approach. Instead of filling the adventure with unnecessary padding, it stayed focused on delivering solid gameplay from beginning to end.

Between the special weapons, boss abilities, and opportunities to develop your own strategy, I never felt like the experience was lacking despite its shorter runtime.

Some people may look at a 34-year-old game and assume it has nothing left to offer when compared to titles like Ninja Gaiden Sigma, Elden Ring, or Crash Bandicoot.

I couldn’t disagree more. Valis I still has its own identity. It may not overwhelm players with massive worlds or endless mechanics, but it delivers a rewarding experience that feels complete from beginning to end.

The biggest lesson I learned from Valis I is that great game design doesn’t have to be complicated. It doesn’t rely on unnecessary distractions or artificial padding to keep players engaged.

Instead, it trusts its straightforward gameplay, responsive controls, and rewarding mechanics to carry the experience. More than three decades later, that’s exactly why Valis I still holds up today.den Sigma, Elden Ring even Crash Bandicoot.

The game still comes with its own bag of tricks, nothing too out of the ordinary but enough where you know that you’re getting something of value without feeling like you’re getting cheated because the game is short but to the point.

The main lesson I learned while playing Valis I is being able to appreciate the game design as it is, its not fluffed up or have landmarks where you can’t get ambushed or take a significant amount of damage but you’re able to destroy everything in a straightforward manner.

If Valis I sounds like the kind of classic action game you’d enjoy, I’ve also put together a Benable list featuring modern ways to play it along with other games and products I recommend.

Check out my Benable list to see what made the cut and discover more hidden gems worth adding to your collection. https://benable.com/RoddyMcG/hidden-action-games-worth-your-time

Intro –

When you think about a good RPG, games like Chrono Trigger, Final Fantasy VII, and even Octopath Traveler probably come to mind. But Final Fantasy V deserves to be part of that conversation as well. Over the years, it has built a huge fan base, and it’s not hard to see why.

After trying it for myself recently, I quickly understood why the game is so highly regarded. Its combat and Job System offer a different approach than many other RPGs, but I’ll get into that later.

What stood out to me most, though, wasn’t just how the game played—it was what playing it taught me about my own preferences as an RPG fan.

Now, what I bring before you today isn’t an attack on Final Fantasy V. The game has a lot going for it, from its gameplay systems to the quality-of-life improvements found in the Pixel Remaster.

I’m certainly not here to tell fans they should stop enjoying it because I understand why so many people hold it in such high regard.

Sometimes, though, we as gamers overlook the fact that a game can teach us more about ourselves than it does about whether it’s objectively good or bad. There’s often a bigger lesson waiting beneath the surface.

That’s the perspective I want to share today. This isn’t just about my experience with Final Fantasy V—it’s about what I learned from it and how those lessons helped me better understand the kinds of RPGs that truly fit my playstyle.

My hope is that, somewhere along the way, you’ll find something you can relate to as well.

Why Final Fantasy V Didn’t Grab Me Like Others Before It –

In the past, I’ve played and beaten several Final Fantasy games, including VII, IX, XII, and even XVI. I loved them all, with a few exceptions. The experiences those games gave me were unforgettable, and if I’m being honest, I plan to go back and play some of them again someday.

Why? Because they weren’t cookie-cutter RPGs. Each one followed its own identity while still offering a progression system that made sense to me.

Take Final Fantasy VII Remake, for example. It completely reinvented the battle system by letting me switch between characters in real time, which I absolutely enjoyed.

While Barret was laying down suppressive fire on turrets, Cloud and Tifa were taking care of Shinra guards. It created a sense of momentum that made every battle exciting. Before I knew it, the fight was over, and I was eager to see what the game had in store next.

When I first tried Final Fantasy V, it felt like a dream come true. The idea of assigning different abilities to different jobs sounded like something I would really appreciate. But after spending more time with the game, I began to notice a problem.

As characters mastered different jobs, the abilities they learned stayed with that individual character. If another character hadn’t learned those same abilities while using that specific job, they simply didn’t have access to them.

For example, let’s say I wanted my Mystic Knight to use Black Magic Level 3 abilities with my lead character. Great! But what if I decided to make my second character a Geomancer and wanted them to use those same Black Magic Level 3 abilities?

The problem—and this is what really got under my skin—was that my second character couldn’t use them because they hadn’t learned them as a Black Mage like my lead character had. That became frustrating.

The more I noticed this happening across my entire party, the more I found myself losing interest in the game. As the enemies became stronger, it grew harder and harder to justify sticking with only one or two jobs to overcome them.

Before long, I found myself right back at the same problem that had been bothering me from the beginning.ose enemies which still brought me back to my point.

The Job System Was Doing Too Much –

Now, I’m the kind of gamer who likes to experiment—to dip my hand into the cookie jar after midnight, so to speak. I enjoy learning the do’s and don’ts of a game’s mechanics through my own experience. Final Fantasy V seemed perfect for that because changing jobs felt like a dream come true. No one had to stay locked into a single role, and I could adapt my party to different battle situations on the fly. I had no problem with that concept.

What I didn’t expect was that I found myself changing jobs not because my current ones weren’t getting the job done, but because I knew every class had abilities I didn’t want to miss. My strategy became simple: stay with a job long enough to learn a few abilities, then switch to another one and repeat the process. I kept doing this for hours, only to realize that constantly changing jobs wasn’t improving my experience nearly as much as I had hoped.

Sure, I could have made all four characters Red Magi, but if that job didn’t have the hard-hitting magic I needed for a particular fight, then having four Red Magi wasn’t going to help me. Experiences like that slowly turned what once felt exciting into something that became more of a chore than a strategy.

One of the biggest frustrations, even in the Pixel Remaster, was the ABP (Ability Points) system. I’ll be honest—I turned the ABP boost up to 4x, and even then I was barely maxing out any jobs.

My goal wasn’t to master every class. I simply wanted each character to learn a useful collection of abilities before moving on to something else.

Even with the boost, I was only earning four ABP per battle instead of the normal one. After spending 52 hours with the game, I didn’t feel any closer to learning meaningful new abilities than I did when I first started. I kept fighting every battle, but the sense of progression I was looking for just wasn’t there.

One of my biggest goals in any RPG is to build my characters naturally. I like using them in battle, gaining levels, and gradually unlocking new abilities along the way. Final Fantasy V made that process feel much slower than I expected.

Instead of feeling like my characters were constantly growing, I often felt as though I had stopped making meaningful progress altogether. By the end, it seemed like everything—including the ABP system—was working against the way I enjoy playing RPGs.

My RPG Preferences –

Despite the flaws I found in Final Fantasy V, I can’t say I walked away without learning anything. In fact, I learned quite a bit. More than anything, the game reminded me of the kind of RPG experience I enjoy most.

I like being able to see what abilities I’m working toward so I can plan my strategies and build my characters accordingly. I don’t enjoy having important progression hidden behind mystery because, for me, that takes away part of the satisfaction of carefully developing my party.

To put a finer point on it, Final Fantasy IX handled this in a way that really clicked with me. Yes, your weapons and armor have abilities tied to them, but that gave me even more incentive to learn those abilities before moving on.

If you expect to coast through the game while learning as little as possible, you’re going to have a hard time against monsters like Ironite.

Call me old school, but I’ve always preferred progression to be tied to the individual character. Going back to Final Fantasy IX, Vivi is a Black Mage who learns support abilities from equipment designed specifically for him.

That means no matter what anyone else equips, abilities like Magic Element Null belong to Vivi alone. It reinforces each character’s identity while still rewarding you for investing time into developing them.

Ultimately, Final Fantasy V showed me why I have the RPG preferences that I do. It helped me understand that I enjoy progression systems that are clear, character-driven, and easy to build strategies around.

That doesn’t mean I’m unwilling to try new ideas, but when it comes to RPG progression, I’ve learned what works best for me. As the saying goes, if it isn’t broken, don’t fix it.

Simple Progression Systems, Preferred –

When I think about games like Final Fantasy VI, Final Fantasy VII, Chrono Trigger, and Chrono Cross, their progression systems all have one thing in common: simplicity.

They aren’t trying to change your characters or force them into roles that wouldn’t fit them in a million years. Terra isn’t trying to be Celes, Cloud isn’t trying to be Aerith, Crono isn’t using Shadow magic, nor can you make Kid an Innate White character.

Instead, each of these characters grows within their own strengths. As they gain levels, they learn abilities that fit who they already are, and that’s what makes these progression systems such a slam dunk.

Everyone becomes stronger naturally throughout the game without having to equip abilities or weapons that make them feel awkward or out of place.

Take Chrono Trigger, for example. Once your first three characters receive magic, each of them learns techniques tied to their respective element. As long as they continue participating in battle, they progress naturally while staying true to the role they were designed to play.

That’s exactly why I prefer this style of progression. It doesn’t undermine what the characters are supposed to be just to adapt to different combat situations.

No matter what happens, Crono remains the Lightning user, and Serge remains the Innate White element user. Even though he temporarily becomes Lynx because of FATE, he eventually regains his body and returns to the role that defines him. Nothing about his identity changes—it simply grows stronger as the game goes on.

Freedom Doesn’t Always Mean More Fun –

To the average gamer, being able to switch jobs and become whatever you want might be incredibly appealing. Honestly, I can see the appeal myself. But here’s where things become complicated.

Even if your White Mage borrows Mystic Knight abilities, they’re still fundamentally a White Mage, with all of the strengths and weaknesses that come with that role.

For many players, experimenting with different combinations is part of the fun, and I completely understand why they enjoy that level of customization.

For me, though, it spoiled what could have been a great experience. I didn’t want to give my Dragoon White Mage abilities or turn my Red Mage into a Geomancer because every job should justify the cost of becoming that job.

Take the Red Mage, for example. The tradeoff is clear: you gain access to both Black and White Magic, but you never reach the full potential of either because the job is designed to be a balance between the two. That’s what makes the class unique.

Likewise, I would never put Dualcast on a White Mage or Black Mage because, to me, that ability belongs with the Red Mage. That’s where it feels the most natural.

That’s ultimately why Final Fantasy V didn’t click with me. The game gives you so much freedom to mix and match abilities that the distinct identity of each job starts to blur.

I prefer progression systems where every class has a clear purpose, meaningful tradeoffs, and a role that remains true to what it was designed to be.

Closing, Not Every RPG Has To Be Your RPG –

To wrap things up, we gamers sometimes try to fit square pegs into round holes by convincing ourselves that we have to love every classic RPG. While that sounds ideal, it can also lead to pretending you enjoy a game that simply doesn’t fit your tastes.

Take me, for example. I never enjoyed the first four Wild Arms games. To me, Wild Arms 5 is the best game in the series and the only one that truly clicked. Sure, I bought Alter Code: F, Wild Arms 2, Wild Arms 3, and Wild Arms 4 again, but that doesn’t automatically mean I’m going to love them any more than I did the first time. Wild Arms 5 will always be my favorite in the series. I’d die for that game.

Instead of forcing yourself to enjoy every RPG, spend your time with the ones that genuinely resonate with you. For me, that’s games like Shining Force II, which never takes itself too seriously and delivers an experience that simply feels fun from beginning to end.

That’s why I chose the games I did. They fit my straightforward gaming style. I’m not afraid to work for victory, but I don’t want an RPG to spend dozens of hours convincing me why I should like it. I’d rather play games that naturally click with me than force myself to enjoy something just because it’s considered a classic.

Not every classic RPG is going to be the right fit for every player, but it’s always worth keeping an open mind about the games that have the potential to do so.

If you’re like me and prefer RPGs that let characters grow naturally instead of constantly changing jobs or roles, I’ve put together a list of some of my favorite games that embrace that philosophy.

Check out my Benable list, “RPGs That Reward Simple Character Progression,” for more recommendations that prove sometimes the best progression systems are also the simplest. https://benable.com/RoddyMcG/rpgs-that-reward-simple-character-progression

Intro –

Stumbling across the many games in my collection, I eventually came across Lords of Exile. A game that plays like Castlevania combined with Ninja Gaiden, I was hooked from the moment I started playing.

Whenever I come across a game that reminds me of the classics I grew up with, I can’t help but want to share the experience with other gamers.

One of the first things that stood out to me was how easy the game was to pick up and play. Sure, there are a few simple instructions to help you get started, but nothing that requires a lot of memorization, and that’s something I really appreciated.

Before long, however, I realized there was much more to the game than its simple beginning.

One of the biggest lessons I learned during my playthrough was that the bosses become much easier once you understand their attack patterns.

Yes, you’re going to die along the way, but every defeat teaches you something. Each attempt helps you improve your timing, your movement, and your understanding of the fight, and all of those things matter.

If you’re getting ready to play Lords of Exile for the first time, don’t let the opening of the game fool you. As I like to say, judging a book by its cover can and will get you cut by the pages. The game gives you room to learn, but it’s also going to make you earn every victory.

There are also a few helpful mechanics that can make your journey easier, but I’ll talk more about those later. More than anything, I wanted to write this article because I recently finished the game and wanted to share the lessons I learned along the way.

My hope is that by the end of this article, you’ll know the do’s and don’ts of playing Lords of Exile and be better prepared to get the most out of your own adventure.

Learning the Level Is The First Victory –

My first impression of Lords of Exile was a little mixed—not because the game was bad, but because after playing games like Castlevania, Mega Man, and Ninja Gaiden for years, there wasn’t much that truly surprised me.

Even so, it didn’t take long for me to realize that while the mechanics felt familiar, the game had its own identity. It eases you into the adventure before gradually turning up the heat.

One thing that did surprise me was the game’s Mega Man-style ability system. Every time you defeated a boss, you earned a new ability.

Those abilities weren’t designed to make the game easy, but they did make exploring and progressing through the later stages much more manageable.

The enemies also demanded more respect than I expected. While some were easy enough to dispatch, others—like the golems—forced me to change my approach.

Their attacks were difficult to avoid, especially when I tried to stay aggressive. They taught me that sometimes patience is just as important as offense.

I couldn’t help but think back to the original Castlevania. You break candles, collect power-ups, fight your way through zombies, and eventually make your way to Dracula’s front door.

Lords of Exile takes a different approach. Right from the beginning, a guard stands outside the gate, making one thing perfectly clear: you’re not rushing past him.

To me, that guard delivers a subtle but obvious message: rushing through this game isn’t an option. Taking your time, paying attention to your surroundings, and moving when the opportunity presents itself will carry you much farther than charging ahead.

The more I played, the more I appreciated that familiar blend of Mega Man, Castlevania, and Ninja Gaiden. Despite a few difficulty spikes that challenged me along the way, I never stopped enjoying the experience.

By the time I reached the end, Lords of Exile had earned a place among my favorite retro-inspired action games.

5 Key Things I Took Away from The Levels I Got Through –

One of the biggest lessons I took away from the levels was the importance of staying alert. Just because things had calmed down or there weren’t any enemies on screen didn’t mean it was safe to let my guard down.

Level 3 drove this point home while I was climbing the vines through the moving platform section. The archers there made it clear they didn’t want me around, and they weren’t about to make the climb easy.

Another lesson I learned was not to get greedy. Going back to the Golem example, I tried getting up close and finishing the fight as quickly as possible. Instead, I ended up taking unnecessary damage.

Once I started timing my attacks and knowing when to back away, I saved much more health and was reminded that slow and steady really does win the race.

Another lesson was patience. If you’ve played Castlevania II or Castlevania III, then you know how important timing can be. The same is true here.

Once I slowed down, studied the obstacles around me, and stopped trying to force my way through, I began making much better progress. That patience even paid off during my fight against Issa in Level 7.

For me, getting better at a game isn’t really about becoming more confident—I’ve always believed in my abilities. Instead, this game reminded me to trust myself.

Trust my instincts, trust my timing, and trust the experience I’ve built over years of playing games like this. Sometimes that’s all you need to get through a difficult section or a challenging boss.

The last lesson I learned was never to forget the basics. One example is the downward thrust, which is perfect for enemies below you and later becomes even more effective after it’s upgraded. It’s easy to get caught up using flashy abilities and forget the simple techniques that work just as well.

I learned that lesson the hard way while fighting the blue guards with the long spears. What should have been a routine encounter turned into a complete mess because I ignored the basics. I lost far more health than I should have before reminding myself that sometimes the simplest solution is still the best one.

The Level Made the Boss Easier –

The first thing that comes to mind is timing—knowing when to use your sub-weapons, when to capitalize on an enemy’s weakness, and how to use every tool at your disposal.

There were plenty of moments where timing meant the difference between taking unnecessary damage and making it through a fight unharmed.

Each level introduced its own challenges. The Sunken City, for example, constantly tested my awareness with its sinking platforms and environmental hazards.

It also reminded me to react quickly and not forget about the summons I had available. Their energy cost was small compared to the amount of health they helped me save before reaching the boss.

By this point in the game, there were very few surprises left when it came to enemy placement. That brings me back to one of the biggest lessons I learned: look before you leap.

An enemy circling a platform may follow the same pattern every time, but knowing when to move onto that platform is what separates surviving from taking unnecessary damage.

One fight that really reinforced this lesson was Issa, the Level 7 boss. His attack pattern is surprisingly easy to memorize once you stop trying to rush the fight.

After taking enough damage, he’ll float to the center of the screen and launch his giant windmill shuriken. I never counted exactly how many hits triggered the attack, but I did learn to recognize what came next.

As soon as he disappeared and reappeared at the top of the screen, I knew it was time to move into the right corner and prepare for a double jump over the incoming attack.

That strategy sounds simple, but it only worked because I took the time to understand his attack pattern instead of trying to overpower him. What first looked confusing eventually became predictable, and that’s when the fight became much easier.

I don’t think I ever saw a game over screen during my playthrough, but that doesn’t mean the game never threatened one. Years of playing action games certainly helped, but repetition played an equally important role.

The more I saw certain obstacles and enemy patterns, the more natural they became. Even then, I never stopped being cautious. One lesson gaming has taught me over the years is to never underestimate anything. Whatever you choose to ignore will eventually hit you—and it’ll hit hard. Speaking from experience.

I’d Like To Offer Some Advice To New Players –

So, for all of you new players out there who are either coming in from the cold or have, like me, played games like this for years but decided to give Lords of Exile a shot, here are a few tips I think will help.

Not only can this game be challenging, but these lessons can mean the difference between surviving and staring at the Game Over screen.

When you’re fighting bosses, learn their attack patterns because doing so is one of the biggest keys to staying alive. Take the Warhog on Stage 5, for example. At the start of the fight, it’ll open with a barrage of bombs followed by its flame attack.

Don’t worry about getting hits in right away. Wait until the bomb barrage is over, then attack the metal plate on its face. Land a few good hits before getting underneath the boss to avoid its flame breath. Patience is what wins this fight, not rushing in.

One of the hardest things I ever had to accept was that, even as an experienced gamer, I was eventually going to see the Game Over screen. I used to think losing meant I had failed or that I had gotten rusty. The truth was the exact opposite.

Losing is what helps you grow. Every death teaches you something if you’re willing to learn from it. So don’t be afraid of failure. Take each defeat with a grain of salt because that’s often when the “a-ha!” moment happens.

Sometimes all it takes is one mistake to show you exactly what you need to do differently the next time around. Samantha on Stage 1 was one of those moments for me.

Another piece of advice I’d give is to take your time through each level. Walk—don’t run. Pretend you’re out for a leisurely stroll with all the time in the world and nowhere else to be.

Enjoy the scenery, cut down everything in your path, and really soak in the atmosphere. If you happen to die along the way, you’ll already have a better understanding of the level when you come back.

To put a finer point on it, patience makes the road ahead much easier to travel. You’re no longer carrying the weight of trying to play perfectly or expecting yourself to make no mistakes. One of the hardest things to do is simply slow down long enough to absorb your surroundings.

There’s nothing wrong with wanting to get to the next level or see what’s coming next, but patience carves the road ahead—not overzealousness. That’s a lesson Lords of Exile taught me the hard way.

Lessons That Go Beyond Lords of Exile –

Now, Lords of Exile isn’t a complicated game. Can the difficulty spike at different points? Absolutely. But the lessons you learn throughout the game can carry over into other action games, like Ghosts ‘n Goblins Resurrection.

One lesson that’s especially valuable is learning to accept death. You’re going to die—a lot—but every defeat is an opportunity to learn. If you’re willing to pay attention to what went wrong instead of getting frustrated, you’ll come back stronger the next time.

Another lesson is timing, and that’s something that carries over perfectly to games like Contra: Operation Galuga. Enemies are constantly trying to overwhelm you, so knowing when to move, jump, or attack can make all the difference.

Sometimes the hardest part isn’t defeating the boss—it’s knowing the exact moment to avoid a projectile or jump out of the way before taking unnecessary damage.

For a long time, I looked at dying in games as something negative. I couldn’t have been more wrong. Death isn’t failure—it’s a teaching tool. Every defeat has something to teach you if you’re willing to learn from it.

One of the hardest things I ever had to accept was that I was going to die in video games. It doesn’t matter whether you’ve been playing for 36 days or 36 years—you’re going to lose sometimes. What matters is what that defeat teaches you before your next attempt.

And perhaps the biggest lesson Lords of Exile taught me is that observation pays off. Taking a moment to look at what’s happening around you helps prevent mistakes that rushing almost always creates.

Take Contra: Operation Galuga, for example. You’re busy mowing down enemies when you suddenly run over something flashing on the ground.

If you’re only focused on the action, you might never notice the hidden mine until it explodes beneath your feet. Had you slowed down and observed your surroundings, you could have avoided it entirely.

Whether you’re playing Lords of Exile, Ghosts ‘n Goblins Resurrection, Contra: Operation Galuga, or almost any challenging action game, the lessons remain the same: be patient, learn from your mistakes, trust your timing, and always pay attention to your surroundings. Those lessons won’t just help you beat one game—they’ll help you become a better gamer.

Conclusion –

So, to recap, when you sit down to play Lords of Exile, learn the level first. I know it’s tempting to treat each stage like it’s just another obstacle standing between you and the boss, but that’s the quickest way to end up back at the Game Over screen.

Nine times out of ten, knowing where to jump, when to use your downward thrust, and how enemies behave will save you far more time than simply hoping the level works in your favor. Trust me—it won’t.

Always be patient as you make your way through each level because it’s easy to overlook something important when you’re rushing from one area to the next.

Maybe a certain sub-weapon makes a boss much easier, but how would you know if you never took the time to break the boxes along the way? Treat your journey through each level like a leisurely stroll. Slow down, take everything in, and let the game reveal its secrets to you.

And don’t get discouraged when you die. It’s easy to feel like the game is working against you, but I can assure you there’s always a way to survive even the toughest battles.

Sometimes the only way to find that solution is through defeat. It might be something as simple as realizing you got too greedy trying to squeeze in one more hit on a boss. Patience is its own reward—always.

Above all else, remember that preparation is what leads to victory. Difficult games reward players who observe their surroundings, learn from their mistakes, and resist the urge to rush. Lords of Exile has its fair share of difficulty spikes, but every victory feels earned because of them.

Keep these lessons in mind, and you’ll not only have a richer and more rewarding playthrough of Lords of Exile, but you’ll carry those lessons into every challenging action game you play afterward.

Difficult games don’t just test your reflexes—they teach patience, observation, and perseverance. If you’re looking for the games and gear that helped shape my approach to challenging action games, check out my companion Benable list below.

https://benable.com/RoddyMcG/challenging-action-games-that-made-me-a-better-gamer

Intro –

Alright fellow gamers, burnout and mental exhaustion. Many of us have no doubt experienced both after spending dozens of hours making our way through long RPGs.

Games like Elden Ring, Bloodborne, Chrono Trigger, and Chrono Cross can easily keep us occupied for 50 hours or more, practically chaining us to their worlds until the very end.

After going through this myself over the years—and even recently—I’ve reached a point where having something to take that edge off makes a huge difference.

Some gamers simply take a break from gaming altogether, while others jump straight into another game. Both are choices, but neither is the only option.

That’s where a palate cleanser comes in. Think of it as a game that gives your mind a chance to recover after a massive RPG. It provides a welcome change of pace before diving into your next grand adventure.

Personally, after I finished Ninja Gaiden Sigma, I realized I needed a break. At the time, I didn’t have a name for what I was looking for, but I knew I wanted something different—something that would let me unwind from not only the mechanics of that game, but the intensity of the entire experience.

Today, I’m going to explain what makes a great palate cleanser, why they’re more important than many gamers realize, and how they can help you enjoy your next big RPG even more.

So, let’s get started.

Part I, Palate Cleanser. Why It’s Need is Absolute –

Being someone who’s played RPGs for years, I can tell you that even if you have the mental fortitude of a god, you’re eventually going to experience burnout or mental exhaustion.

That’s not because you can’t handle it—quite the opposite. Long RPGs simply demand a tremendous amount of your time, focus, and gaming energy.

Games like Final Fantasy VI, Final Fantasy XVI, and even the Final Fantasy VII remakes can leave you mentally drained after just a few hours or a major boss battle.

Then there’s everything happening outside of combat. You’re constantly managing equipment between party members, deciding which side quests deserve your attention, and choosing which ones can wait until later.

And that’s before you consider the worlds themselves. Some RPGs continue expanding long after you think you’ve seen everything. Final Fantasy VI is a perfect example.

Just when you become comfortable navigating one massive world, the game opens up another, asking you to explore even more. Depending on how you play, that journey can easily stretch well beyond 30 hours and sometimes reach 40 or 50 hours before the credits roll.

What Makes A Good Palate Cleanser?

A palate cleanser, in its purest form, isn’t simply a short game. It also isn’t another massive RPG that’s going to ask for another 50 or 60 hours of your time.

Instead, it’s a game that feels mentally refreshing after you’ve spent weeks immersed in a long adventure. The goal isn’t to replace the RPG you just finished, but to give yourself enough breathing room before committing to another one.

For years, I never really had a name for this feeling. I just knew that after finishing a long RPG, I wanted to play something completely different.

I didn’t want to manage another inventory, organize another party, or spend hours deciding which quest deserved my attention next. I wanted a game that let me simply pick up the controller and enjoy myself.

For me, that game was often Yu-Gi-Oh! Master Duel.

Whenever I finished a long RPG, I’d find myself loading Master Duel and heading straight into a few matches. There wasn’t a grand objective waiting for me.

I wasn’t trying to climb the rankings or prove anything to anyone. I simply wanted to duel. I’d jump into a handful of matches, win some, lose some, test my deck, and then call it a day. There was no pressure to continue if I didn’t feel like it, and that’s exactly why it became one of my favorite palate cleansers.

That’s the beauty of a game like Master Duel. Every duel feels self-contained. Once a match is over, it’s over. Whether you win or lose, you can simply move on with your day.

There’s no lingering obligation to complete another chapter or another dungeon before you can finally stop playing. It gives you permission to enjoy gaming without feeling like you’ve interrupted a larger journey.

For someone like me, that’s incredibly refreshing after spending dozens of hours inside an RPG world.

That doesn’t mean everyone needs to choose a card game. Your palate cleanser might look completely different from mine. Maybe it’s a few rounds of Tetris. Maybe it’s a racing game where you can finish a race in just a few minutes.

Maybe it’s a side-scrolling action game that gets you into the gameplay almost immediately. The important part isn’t the genre—it’s how the game makes you feel once you pick up the controller.

The best palate cleansers all have something in common. They don’t ask much of you before becoming enjoyable.

You don’t have to spend an hour learning complicated mechanics or remembering where you left off three weeks ago. Instead, they welcome you back almost immediately. You start playing within minutes, and before long you’re smiling because you’re simply having fun again.

That’s one of the reasons I recently gravitated toward Valis I on the Nintendo Switch.

After spending time with Final Fantasy III, I wanted something that demanded less from me mentally. Even though I didn’t finish every part of Final Fantasy III, I still reached a point where I wanted a change of pace.

Valis I provided exactly that. It was straightforward, easy to understand, and never buried me under complicated systems. Within minutes, I was moving through stages, fighting enemies, and enjoying myself without feeling mentally overloaded.

Ironically, the same thing happened after I finished Lords of Exile.

Now, Lords of Exile isn’t an excessively long game, nor is it an RPG packed with dozens of systems. But it still demanded my attention. Learning enemy patterns, mastering the stages, and figuring out the bosses required focus and concentration.

By the time I reached the ending, I felt satisfied—but I also knew I needed something lighter before throwing myself into another demanding experience.

That’s exactly why I started Valis I.

It wasn’t because Lords of Exile wore me out in a negative way. Quite the opposite. I enjoyed every minute of it. I simply recognized that my mind wanted something different.

Instead of immediately asking it to solve another difficult challenge, I gave myself permission to enjoy a game that was shorter, simpler, and easier to settle into.

That’s what a true palate cleanser does.

It doesn’t exist because you’re tired of gaming.

It exists because you still love gaming enough to recognize when your mind needs a different kind of experience.

Whether that’s a few rounds of Yu-Gi-Oh! Master Duel, an evening with Valis I, or another game entirely, the goal is always the same.

Step away from the mental weight of a massive adventure for a little while, enjoy something that feels refreshing, and come back ready for whatever world awaits you next.wasn’t but the experience left me feeling heavily drained with a need for a palate cleanser. Hence the break.

Why I Keep Coming Back To Action Games –

One of the biggest reasons I keep coming back to action games is because they help clear my mind after finishing a long RPG. It isn’t because the RPG was bad—I just need something that’s quick, easy to pick up, and ready to go from the moment I press Start.

RPGs always have another quest to complete, another piece of equipment to manage, or another objective the game decides is important.

Action games are different. They strip all of that away. Sometimes, having that change of pace is exactly what the gaming soul needs. Think about it: if you just spent 33½ hours making your way from the Red Dragon to the White Dragon in Chrono Cross, you’ve earned a distraction.

That’s why I enjoy games like Shadow of the Ninja Reborn and Ghosts ‘n Goblins Resurrection.

They throw you straight into the action with very little downtime. It’s pure, unadulterated carnage, fast-paced gameplay, and no lengthy preparation before the fun begins. To me, that’s the true definition of a palate cleanser.

The Goal Isn’t To Finish Fast, Its About Refreshment –

So to recap, a palate cleanser isn’t just about playing some random game. It’s about finding a game that doesn’t demand your time, doesn’t overwhelm you with side quests, and doesn’t ask for another huge commitment before you can simply enjoy yourself.

It’s a game that gives you the right kind of distraction and the recovery time you need before starting your next big RPG.

Think about it. If you sit down with Cyber Shadow or Valis IV, you don’t have to take either game too seriously or even finish them for them to serve their purpose. Sometimes, all you need is a few hours of fast-paced action to clear your mind and remind yourself why gaming is fun.

Then, when it’s time to begin your next 100-hour adventure, you’ll be ready to enjoy it with a fresh perspective instead of carrying the mental fatigue from the last one.

Give yourself permission to step away from the RPG genre every now and then. Your next adventure will be even more enjoyable because of it. ready to start your next 100 hour adventure when you make the time to briefly step away from that RPG genre for a little while.

Keep these in mind and always give yourself time to recover from RPGs, you’re no good to that next game if your mind is still bogged down by that RPG.

Need a break after a long RPG? Here are the games I turn to when I want to recharge, clear my mind, and get ready for my next big adventure. Check out my Benable list here – https://benable.com/RoddyMcG/games-that-help-you-reset-between-long-adventures

Intro –

Over the many years that we’ve spent playing video games, a lot of us have noticed—whether we realize it or not—that some games never stop being difficult. Take games like Ghosts ‘n Goblins Resurrection, for example. Getting punished for even the smallest mistake is part of the experience, and the game shows very little mercy.

Even years ago, when I was playing games like Todd McFarlane’s Spawn: The Video Game and Crash Bandicoot 4: It’s About Time, those games always felt like they were doing everything they could to keep me from ever reaching the ending. Their difficulty was relentless, and every victory felt earned.

However, after replaying many of those games over the years, I came to an interesting realization. It wasn’t that the games had become easier—I had changed.

Years of playing platformers, action games, and RPGs had quietly built my instincts, patience, and confidence. What once felt impossible now felt manageable, not because the games were different, but because I had become a better gamer.

That realization didn’t happen overnight. It came from refusing to give up, embracing a never-say-die attitude, and having the patience to learn from every defeat.

Since I’ve never believed in rage quitting, every failure became another lesson instead of a reason to stop playing. Over time, those lessons built confidence that allowed me to push back against challenges that once seemed overwhelming.

Looking back, I realized the games never got easier. I simply became better at rising to the challenge, making their difficulty feel far less intimidating than it once did.

Lords of Exile Didn’t Feel Impossible –

Lately, I’ve been playing Lords of Exile, and I have to admit, I’m hooked. One thing I immediately noticed is that the game only offers one difficulty setting: Normal.

Despite that, the platforming, enemy placement, and constant need to recognize attack patterns never felt impossible or confidence-breaking. Instead, the game challenged me to rely on the experience I’ve built over years of playing action platformers.

As someone who believes in finishing every game I start, I reached Stage 5 in less than 18 hours. The funny thing is, I could have finished the game nights ago, but I chose not to.

Sometimes it isn’t about proving what you can do in the moment—it’s about knowing you can finish and deciding to enjoy the journey instead of rushing to the ending.

The game’s difficulty never felt overwhelming, even on my first playthrough. I certainly died, but nowhere near as often as I would have years ago. The difference wasn’t that Lords of Exile was an easy game—it was that years of experience had already taught me how to approach games like it.

The enemies and bosses all have telegraphed attack patterns. Once you recognize them and learn when to move, every successful dodge and counterattack builds your confidence. That confidence reminded me of another experience I had while playing Cyber Shadow against Dr. Progen.

When I first reached the final battle, I struggled with his first form. It wasn’t until I slowed down, stayed patient, and paid close attention to his attacks that everything began to click.

Once I understood his patterns, I was able to conserve my health for the second and final phase of the fight.

That battle taught me something I’ll never forget. The boss didn’t become weaker with each attempt—I became stronger through every attempt.

Every retry gave me more knowledge, more confidence, and eventually took away the advantage the boss had over me. That realization is what helped me understand that difficult games don’t necessarily become easier. We become better at meeting the challenge.

Mastery Carries Over –

When I was growing up, a lot of people in the ’90s believed that video games were a waste of time and that you learned nothing from them. However, after gaming for 36 years, I can confidently say they were wrong. One of the greatest lessons gaming has ever taught me is mastery.

Every game I’ve played and beaten has contributed to the skills I rely on today. One of the most valuable is timing.

Referring back to my earlier Cyber Shadow example, I had to force myself to let things happen instead of trying to force the action. Timing became everything.

During my battle with Dr. Progen, I intentionally struck his orange barrier, causing my character to bounce backward just enough to avoid his pillar of flames. That moment taught me that sometimes the right move isn’t attacking more—it’s knowing when to attack.

Another lesson gaming taught me is patience.

I’ve always been willing to learn a game’s mechanics rather than rush through them. One of the best examples came from Black Myth: Wukong while fighting Yin Tiger.

He defeated me more than once, but every attempt taught me something new. Little by little, I began taking away his advantages until I finally defeated him. That battle showed me he wasn’t unbeatable—I simply needed to stay persistent.

Pattern recognition has become just as important.

Contra: Operation Galuga reinforced that lesson. Recognizing enemy and boss patterns often meant the difference between surviving and losing a life.

I learned to slow down, observe, and understand every attack instead of reacting blindly. Before long, those same patterns became familiar, and stages that once felt intimidating no longer seemed nearly as difficult.

One of the hardest lessons to learn was resource management.

Just because a boss or enemy deals heavy damage doesn’t mean defeat is inevitable. Sometimes it’s simply the game’s way of teaching you to value your resources. Shadow of the Ninja Reborn demonstrated this perfectly.

Even with a healthy life bar, powerful attacks could erase it in seconds. That forced me to think differently about every encounter. Instead of wasting healing opportunities or playing recklessly, I learned to conserve what I had for the moments that truly mattered.

Finally, there’s positioning, a skill many players overlook until they realize how important it really is.

For me, Ghosts ‘n Goblins Resurrection taught that lesson better than any other game. During my battle with Satan, standing directly beneath him created the best opportunity to deal damage, but I constantly had to reposition to avoid his attacks and prepare for the next opening.

Especially during the second half of the fight, understanding where to stand often mattered just as much as knowing when to attack.

Looking back, every one of these lessons carried over into the games that followed. Timing, patience, pattern recognition, resource management, and positioning all became part of how I approach difficult games today.

That’s probably why Lords of Exile feels much more manageable than it otherwise would. The game didn’t become easier—I simply brought decades of experience with me.

Difficulty is Relative

Why New Players See Something Different –

When it comes to video games, it can be argued that a new player and a veteran are playing two completely different games. They’ll encounter the same enemies, obstacles, and bosses, but their experiences couldn’t be more different.

The biggest difference is experience. A new player sees everything happening at once, while a veteran sees opportunities hidden within the chaos.

Take a game like Lords of Exile, for example. A new player may encounter enemies scattered across the screen and feel overwhelmed, wondering how they’re supposed to survive.

Every attack, jump, and obstacle seems to demand their attention all at once, creating that first chaotic challenge every player experiences.

Now compare that to a veteran. They’ll likely look at the same situation and think, “I’ve seen something like this before.”

Instead of panicking, they’re already positioning themselves, recognizing enemy patterns, and waiting for the right moment to attack. What looks overwhelming to one player becomes familiar territory to another.

Last night, I fought Galagar in Lords of Exile. He defeated me more than a few times, but I never found myself getting frustrated because challenges like that weren’t anything new to me.

I simply slowed down, watched his attack patterns, learned when to strike, and knew when it was time to back away. The same approach carried me through his second form.

By the time I reached the final boss, I realized something. The game hadn’t suddenly become less challenging—I had simply become more comfortable with everything it was asking of me.

Even on my very first playthrough, there was a lot to learn, but years of gaming experience allowed me to adapt much faster. That’s what made the experience so rewarding.

Difficulty Isn’t Always About Setting –

Most of us gamers are familiar with the difficulty settings found in many games—Easy, Normal, and Hard. We’re also familiar with games that don’t offer a choice at all, challenging every player on the same difficulty.

Along the way, we level up, get defeated, become stronger, survive longer, and unlock new abilities. Each of those moments has meaning on its own.

Together, they tell the story of how we overcome a game’s challenges. Looking back, getting defeated by that Ochu in Kilika Forest wasn’t simply because the battle was difficult.

It happened because I hadn’t yet gained the experience needed to overcome it. Once I learned its attacks and adjusted my strategy, the fight transformed from an impossible obstacle into another challenge I knew I could conquer.

That’s what I’ve come to realize about difficulty in games. The challenge isn’t always defined by the enemy standing in front of you—it’s often defined by how you approach that enemy.

Your experience, patience, and willingness to adapt shape the battle just as much as the game’s mechanics do. That’s why games that demand genuine improvement continue to teach valuable skills long after you’ve beaten them.

The Game Didn’t Get Easier, You Grew Into It –

To wrap things up, playing video games can be viewed from two very different perspectives. A new player sees every challenge as something unfamiliar, while a veteran often approaches the same situation as just another day at the office.

Experience changes everything. From the spells you cast and the shields you break to the special attacks you unleash, experience sits at the heart of every decision you make.

When I first started Lords of Exile, I never felt intimidated by what the game threw at me. Even while learning its mechanics, it reminded me of games like Castlevania III and the original Ninja Gaiden.

That’s also why I didn’t rush to the ending. I already knew what kind of journey I was on, and as I always say, sometimes it’s better to enjoy the ride than race to the finish.

The skills we develop in games like Contra: Operation Galuga, Shadow of the Ninja Reborn, and Ghosts ‘n Goblins Resurrection don’t disappear when the credits roll. Pattern recognition, positioning, timing, patience, and resource management all carry over into the next challenge. Every difficult game leaves behind something that prepares you for the next one.

Years pass, new games release, and before long you discover something interesting. Difficulty was never just about selecting Easy, Normal, or Hard. Those settings simply establish the challenge. What truly changes is the player. Every victory, every defeat, and every lesson quietly builds experience that you carry into future games.

I’ve played games for more than three decades, and I still make mistakes. I still get defeated. That doesn’t make me unstoppable. What it does mean is that every difficult game I’ve conquered has left me with something valuable.

Crash Bandicoot 4: It’s About Time taught me timing and precision. Ninja Gaiden 3: Razor’s Edge reinforced the importance of adapting to every situation. Elden Ring reminded me that the greatest reward isn’t simply defeating a boss—it’s becoming a better player because of the challenge.

Those lessons are worth more than any single victory because they’ll stay with me for the rest of my gaming life.

That’s why I can pick up a game like Valis I and immediately feel comfortable. The challenge may be new, but the skills I’ve spent years building are not. In the end, the game didn’t get easier. I simply became a better gamer.

If you’re looking for games that reward patience, observation, and real improvement, I’ve put together a collection of some of my favorite challenging games that helped shape me into the gamer I am today. Check out my Benable list below and see which one will test your skills next.
https://benable.com/RoddyMcG

You know, there has been a lot of buzz in the gaming world lately, and much of it has to do with a decision Sony is making. If I’m being honest, I think this is something people should have made peace with a long time ago—especially those who have spent years buying digital games.

Now, I’ll be honest: it’s not often that something makes me get off my throne and weigh in because, most of the time, I just don’t care.

And I’m not saying that because gaming and everything associated with it doesn’t matter to me. It does. I’m simply not in the habit of treating every snippet of gaming news like it deserves my time and energy.

But every now and then, something gets loud enough to make me look over and ask, “What the hell are you guys doing?”

This is one of those times.

What surprises me most is how many people seem caught off guard by something that, from where I’m standing, has been coming for a long time.

I’ve watched the conversation grow louder, seen the complaints pile up, and wondered how we got to a point where so many gamers are still fighting a direction that has been right in front of us for years.

After listening to the constant whining, griping, and bitching, I’ve finally decided to weigh in and make my thoughts known.

Because whether people like it or not, this conversation isn’t going away.

That said, let’s go.

Part 1 – Why I Never Fought The Digital Future.

Most Gaming Controversies Don’t Get My Attention!

Based on the gaming outrage of late regarding Sony’s decision involving digital games, I’ve sat back and watched people blow fire because they believe Sony is being unfair.

Incidentally, I just don’t care. I don’t.

The reason is simple: I don’t make it my life’s work to hang around on Facebook, keeping up with every bit of gaming controversy. That’s energy I don’t care to give away.

Besides, whatever happens in the gaming world, I form my own opinion. I’m not looking for someone else to tell me what I should think because they believe it’s for the betterment of gaming.

Free will and gaming have one thing in common: the motivation should come from the person, not the crowd fighting for what they believe is the greater good.

To me, it’s just noise.

Ten times out of ten, I’m sitting on my throne, ignoring everything around me. The world could be burning. Gamers could be justifiably or unjustifiably irate about Sony’s decision involving digital games.

I don’t care about any of it.

I wasn’t even going to weigh in on this. But because the noise finally got louder than I could ignore, I decided:

“What the hell? I’ve got a few minutes.”

I Saw This Coming, Why Didn’t You?

The funny thing is that despite all the ugliness people have shown and expressed about Sony’s decision and digital gaming becoming a global thing, this has already been happening right under people’s noses.

I saw this coming as far back as the late PS3 generation. Sony has been heading in this direction ever since, yet people want to act like this decision somehow caught them off guard.

Personally, since people were already buying digital games, I don’t think they can pretend this wasn’t eventually going to become a much bigger thing. I mean, think about it. Physical gaming versus digital gaming—if one is outselling the other, it makes sense to go where the money is.

And that happens to be digital gaming.

So, for all the yelling and tantrums surrounding the policy changes, the rumors—both new and old—and even the idea of a complete switch to digital itself, I don’t think people should treat this like some doomsday warning no one saw coming.

Sony has been moving in this direction for years.

The difference is that they’ve finally started closing the gap, and that’s no crime.

I mean, seriously, what is everyone so surprised about?

I Went Digital and Still Got to Keep My Soul –

For me, I wasn’t coaxed into going digital. No one makes me do anything.

I went willingly because I saw the ease and convenience of what going fully digital could offer.

As someone who’s busy with life, kids, parenthood, and just living overall, I can appreciate the convenience of digital gaming—especially when it comes to buying games.

For me, it has been one of the greatest conveniences in gaming.

All of my digital games are in one place. All I have to do is pick one, press a button, and play. That’s it. Wishlisting makes things even easier because when I want a game or something goes on sale, I’m informed.

I don’t understand why people can’t see the benefits of digital gaming. Even with the direction Sony is heading, many of those same benefits aren’t suddenly going to disappear.

Most gamers will look at what Sony is doing and think the company is robbing them of their right to gaming, when in actuality, Sony is expanding in the direction it believes is right.

To many people, no physical games means they’re no longer in control of their gaming. They see it as a handicap.

I don’t see a handicap.

I see the same great time-saver I always have, and just because Sony is making changes doesn’t change that.

The one thing I value more than almost anything besides gaming is time. And to put a finer point on this, digital gaming has done wonders for mine.

What has it done for yours? for yours?

The Store Lines, I Don’t Miss Them!

Digital gaming has solved more problems than most gamers want to admit.

Remember those days when we wanted a new game and had to put a little money down to reserve our copy, only to go back to the store later to pick it up?

I remember doing exactly that with God of War II on the PS2 when it first came out.

I distinctly remember the GameStop clerk asking me, “What are you going to do if the copies don’t get here before the store closes?”

My response?

“Then I don’t leave! I’ll camp outside this store if I have to.”

I was willing to do it too, even though the clerk was only kidding.

But my point remains valid.

Digital gaming cut all of that shit out.

What’s so bad about buying a game, downloading it, and eventually playing it on your own terms? What sounds so terrible about that?

To me, it seems like people are more obsessed with trying to have it all instead of making peace with what they have access to.

I prefer digital gaming because, as someone who lives by the philosophy, “You want my time, pay my price,” digital gaming does exactly that. I don’t lose time in any regard.

The convenience is what matters to me. I get to keep my time and do what I want with it—even if I don’t immediately start the game I just downloaded and spent $64 to $77 on.

That still beats running around trying to pinpoint which store is going to get which game.

Those days are long gone, and they shall remain so.

Count your blessings, people!

Part 2 — Think for Yourself and Let the Future Come.

Facebook Doesn’t Get to Tell Me Shit!

At different points in time whenever I’ve gotten on Facebook—even recently—there has been a LOT of buzz surrounding Sony’s so-called “designs,” as it were. One of the latest involved account inactivity.

Naturally, people started acting up. But here’s the thing: the inactivity scare people were spreading around wasn’t even about us North Americans.

One person started making noise about it. Then two people. Before long, there was an entire network of Facebookers spreading the story like wildfire and making it sound like everybody was going to be affected.

This is exactly why I don’t get my information from Facebook. No one tells me what to think, and I’m certainly not going to let a crowd of people panicking over half-read information do it for me.

At that point, people are just turning noise into unnecessary panic. If I’m being honest, they’re creating the very stress they’re putting other people under by making something seem far more urgent and widespread than it actually is.

Before long, people aren’t even reacting to the actual information anymore. They’re reacting to someone else’s reaction to someone else’s reaction—and by then, the truth is buried under a mountain of outrage.

Check your facts, people.

Sony has a massive worldwide fan base. Stop acting like everybody’s account is suddenly standing in front of a firing squad because somebody on Facebook hit the panic button.

You Guys Zig, I Zag. That Simple.

In light of this whole ownership debacle surrounding physical and digital gaming, it’s been said that people who buy digital content, like me, are traitors and that Sony is eventually going to flip the script on us—meaning we’ll be the ones who get the worst of it.

Now, I’ve been pro-digital since the PS4 era, and I still am today.

I want it to go on record that I plan to stay digital.

Direct your attention to the screen above. That is a physical copy of a game I bought. Now, you’re probably wondering, “Why did you buy a physical game if you’re all digital?”

My answer is simple: I had no choice.

The game had been delisted from the PlayStation Store, so I had to buy a physical copy. Fine. Accepted.

But that doesn’t mean I’m automatically going to change my decision or my feelings about an argument that has about as much appeal to me as dirt.

So, while you guys are making all this noise about physical media, yeah, I don’t give a shit.

I’ll stay on my side—the digital side. The side of the future.

Because, let’s face it, this is happening. You can bitch, whine, and complain about it all you want, but none of that is going to stop the direction gaming is heading.

Playstation Still Gets My Trust, For Now –

To put a finer point on this, I’ve been loyal to Sony—to PlayStation—since ’99, and that’s not going to change anytime soon.

However, while you guys are creating panic and spreading fear, my stance is simple: as long as PlayStation doesn’t start crossing the lines I’ve drawn in the sand, I’m cool.

A rumor is always going to be a rumor. A fact is always going to be a fact. But the common denominator is action. Until there is something real to react to, I’m not wasting my time worrying about baseless bullshit.

If I had one message to pass on to PlayStation, it would be this:

“All right, guys. I stand with you as I always have. That changes the second you start abusing your power—deleting accounts willy-nilly or simply because you feel like it. So make your changes. Get your affairs in order. But do not cross the line.”

Just like that. Simple.

The way I see it, everything cooking right now has been in the making for a long time—probably longer than most people want to admit. None of this appeared overnight.

So, what must be, must be.

You Keep Fighting the Transition, I’m Going to Fight to Empty Those Health Bars –

I’m going to close out this post with this, and you can quote me as saying:

“You can choose to fight the transition or whatever underhandedness you believe Sony is up to. You can even stand around bitching that an all-digital future will undo PlayStation and everything they’ve built.”

Furthermore:

“You can even spend your time trying to recruit others to your side like you’re waging war in the name of some holy crusade, believing your cause is just.”

You know what I’m going to do?

I’m going to spend my energy fighting to delete the health bars of the enemies in the games I’m playing right now and the games I plan to play later.

So, you guys keep doing what you do. I’m going to be sitting over here playing games and enjoying my gaming time.

At the end of the day, you have two choices.

A. Waste your energy worrying about something you believe is inevitable—something you think is going to steamroll over every debate, no matter how loud the crowd gets or how many people join it.

Or:

B. Spend your time wisely playing games and enjoying them.

Personally, I’m over here enjoying my games and letting the future happen. I don’t give a shit about any of it as long as Sony doesn’t get out of control.

As long as they don’t cross that line, I’m cool.

So, with that said, here’s some energy for my next boss fight.

Going digital has always been about making gaming easier for me. If you want to see some of the essentials that help me manage and enjoy my digital game libraries, check out my Benable list below – https://benable.com/RoddyMcG/digital-gaming-essentials-that-make-life-easier

Intro –

You know, moving from old hardware to updated versions can be a very difficult thing to do, especially when you believe the hardware you’re holding is the only true way to experience a game.

For a long time—and in some cases, not so long ago—I thought exactly the same way. I was a purist who believed that mixing gaming generations was almost forbidden. To me, the games you bought for a console belonged on that console and nowhere else.

For example, if I wanted to play Jak & Daxter 1, 2, and 3, then I played them on the PS2. Keeping each gaming generation separate meant everything to me. One of the hardest things we gamers can do is change, especially when it challenges what we’ve grown comfortable with.

Sometimes, though, what feels like a betrayal at first can actually be an upgrade for the greater good.

The reality is that gaming hardware ages. Eventually, every console reaches a point where we have to decide whether it’s worth spending a small amount of money on an updated collection or potentially much more trying to preserve aging hardware for years to come.

Today, I want to share my own experience with that decision. If you’re anything like I used to be, you may still struggle with the idea of buying collections or updated versions instead of playing everything on the original hardware.

And that’s okay. Change is hard, and it doesn’t have to happen overnight.

That said, let’s talk about it.

Chasing the Perfect Version, Rod Edition –

From late 2007 to mid-2014, I spent most of my time playing my PS2 and its games. Even though collections and remasters of many of those games were becoming available, I wouldn’t allow myself to embrace them or move toward the future.

To me, the PS2 was the perfect way to experience my favorite games. Looking back, I realize I spent so much time chasing the “perfect” version instead of simply keeping an open mind.

What’s ironic is that while I was searching for perfection, I missed out on some excellent collections, like the Sega Genesis Classics Collection on the PS4.

The problem wasn’t convenience—it was my mindset. I was determined to keep my collection “pure.” If I already owned a game on the PS2, I didn’t want an upgraded version, no matter how good it was. That obsession became the driving force behind many of my gaming decisions.

Take the God of War HD Collection, for example. It was available on the PS3, but at the time I had no interest in it. If I was going to play God of War I and II, I wanted to play them on the PS2 and nowhere else.

Yeah, I know—stubbornness at its finest. I’ll gladly admit that.

When the Final Fantasy I–VI Pixel Remaster collection was released, I barely gave it a second thought. I was convinced that playing those games on the PS2 was all I needed.

Looking back, I realize I spent years denying myself the chance to enjoy those same adventures on newer hardware simply because I refused to step outside the boundaries I had created for myself.

For me, it always came back to staying in my lane. I had convinced myself that every game belonged to its original console, and that was the only “right” way to experience it.

One of the best examples was God of War III. I spent years searching for an original PS3 copy. I knew the God of War Saga collection existed, but I didn’t care. I wanted the original release because, in my mind, that was how the game was meant to be played.

The funny part is that I had already beaten God of War III Remastered on the PS4. Even after that, I was still chasing what I believed was the “perfect” copy. Eventually, I found it, but only after spending more money than I needed to, including an expensive shipping charge.

Looking back, I achieved my goal—but at a completely unnecessary cost. of War III Remastered on PS4, I belly ached about looking and having the ‘perfect’ copy of God of War III.

To say the least, I accomplished my goal but at an unnecessary cost which was my bank account combined with paying a high shipping and handling fee to get it delivered. What a waste, am I right?

When Research Replaced Playing –

When the PS4 era arrived, I finally decided it was time to move toward the next generation, including picking up a PS3. As I built a large physical collection for that console, many of the same games started appearing on the PS4 in the form of collections and remasters.

Naturally, I did what I always did—I researched. I compared versions, weighed the pros and cons, and spent countless hours trying to determine which version was the “right” one to own. Instead of enjoying games that were already available to me, I kept myself planted in the PS3 neighborhood.

Going back to my earlier example, there were plenty of times when I had an itch that only God of War III could scratch. The problem was that I convinced myself the only way to satisfy that itch was to play the original PS3 version.

The Ninja Gaiden series was another example. When the Master Collection released on the PS4 in 2021, I didn’t immediately see it as an opportunity. Instead, I spent hours researching it, asking myself, “If these are the same three games, what difference does it really make whether I play them on the PS3 or the PS4?”

Looking back, I realize I was asking the wrong question.

Preservation isn’t just about protecting old hardware. It’s also about making sure we can continue enjoying the games we love. Instead of embracing that idea, I spent more time researching than gaming, and that slowly changed the way I looked at the hobby.

I had convinced myself that I was doing things the “right” way while everyone else was doing them wrong. I watched review after review, listened to endless opinions, and let other people’s arguments influence decisions that should have been my own.

There’s nothing wrong with hearing different perspectives. The mistake I made was allowing those perspectives to outweigh my own experience. I let myself get caught up in debates and complaints from people who simply disliked something because it was new.

Looking back, I wish I had trusted myself more.

Since 2007, I’ve been working on a massive gaming project. The more I reflect on that journey, the more I realize how much further along I might have been if I had spent less time searching for the perfect version of every game and more time simply playing them.

There were games I left on the shelf for days, weeks, and sometimes longer because I was trying to live by my own unwritten “laws” of gaming instead of allowing myself to enjoy the experience.

There’s nothing wrong with loving video games. The problem comes when our love for them turns into an obsession with purity. At that point, respect for the hobby can slowly become a barrier that keeps us from enjoying it.

Today, I believe the version matters far less than the experience. Whether it’s the original release, a collection, or a remaster, what truly matters is that you enjoy the game.

It’s a lesson I wish I had learned much sooner.

The Moment My Thinking Changed –

Several months ago, I woke up with a realization. If I truly wanted to become an authority on gaming, then I had to step into the light, so to speak.

I finally understood that many of the collections and remasters of the games I loved would eventually become just as important to preserving those experiences as the original hardware itself.

That wasn’t a decision anyone else could make for me. I could have just as easily turned my back on the idea of owning collections like God of War, Jak and Daxter, or Ratchet & Clank. Instead, I decided it was time to change the way I looked at them.

I spent a long time wrestling with the idea that there had to be a perfect version of every game. Eventually, I realized there isn’t.

Take the Final Fantasy Pixel Remasters, for example. Yes, they include quality-of-life features, but if you set those aside, you’re still playing the same incredible games. The heart of the experience hasn’t changed.

That realization also changed how I viewed collections like the Ninja Gaiden Master Collection. I know those games extremely well. Playing them on the PS4 doesn’t change what made them great on the PS3.

The enemies are the same. The challenges are the same. The satisfaction of overcoming them is the same. The only thing that changed was the console I was holding.

Once I finally embraced game collections, I stopped agonizing over how I was supposed to play a game and simply started playing it.

I’ll admit it—I made a much bigger deal out of this than I probably should have. But when your thinking is driven by the idea of gaming purity, it’s difficult to accept that another version of the same game can still deliver the experience you fell in love with.

These days, my mindset is completely different. Instead of asking, “Should I buy this collection?” I find myself asking, “Which collection should I pick up next?”

The best example of this came when I played Final Fantasy VI Pixel Remaster. I never finished the game on my PS2, but I finally completed it on my Nintendo Switch.

What surprised me most was that I was well into the adventure before it even occurred to me that I wasn’t playing on my PS2 anymore.

I wasn’t thinking about the hardware.

I was thinking about the game.

That was the moment everything clicked. I realized I wasn’t losing anything by embracing newer versions. I was gaining the opportunity to continue enjoying the games I loved without putting unnecessary limits on myself.

From that point forward, I chose to stay open to collections and remasters because, at the end of the day, what matters most is making progress, creating memories, and enjoying the experience—not arguing over which version is the “right” one.

The differences only matter if we allow them to.

Ninja Gaiden Sigma still punishes mistakes. The Golden Scarabs are still hidden in the same places. The challenge is still there, and so is the satisfaction of overcoming it.

In the end, I discovered there was never a different experience waiting for me.

There was only the same great game, ready to be enjoyed. Scarabs are still in the same places they were a generation earlier.

There is no difference, only the same great experience that comes from enjoying a great game.

My New Rule, Just Play –

After spending so much time overthinking and agonizing over the “perfect” way to play a game—or even a specific game—I finally reached the point where I just put the game in and played.

That really brings my new rule into focus: I’m no longer looking for excuses to stick to a single “correct” way of playing or enjoying games. I just play.

I remember when I played Final Fantasy VI Pixel Remaster for the first time. As a new player, the game had a lot to offer, and it started with simply experiencing its features without overthinking them.

From that point on, I made it my focus to keep one idea at the front of my gaming mindset: there is no such thing as a perfect version of a game—only the version you enjoy.

I have a little over 4,200 games, and I still get enjoyment out of every one of them, even though they’re spread across different consoles. My goal has become simple: to create memories.

Even now, my Facebook is filled with photo after photo of gaming moments from the games I’ve played and completed.

At that point, it stopped being about chasing the “perfect” version of a game. It became about creating memories—like using the Red Mage in FFV, defeating the Colossus in God of War II, or blasting enemies apart in Ratchet & Clank: Going Commando. Those moments matter more than version debates ever did.

I’ve also learned something else: there’s a real difference between trusting your own experience with a game and letting others decide which version is “best.” Whether I’m taking down Cronos in God of War III on PS3 or PS4, the experience itself is what matters most.

Why This Makes Gaming More Enjoyable –

Once upon a time, at the height of it all, I believed a game was measured by how “perfectly” it could be played. That often led to massive amounts of time spent researching instead of actually playing.

I’ve come to realize that spending less time researching and more time playing—and creating memories—is a far better use of gaming time.

Gaming becomes more enjoyable when you stop overthinking what makes certain aspects of a game “important” and just experience them for what they are.

And if I’m being honest, too much research often becomes wasted time, because when you finally play the game, you realize that the real value was always in the experience itself, not the preparation.

Besides, that’s why it’s called video gaming—not video game researching all day. These days, I try to spend as much time as possible with my games, whether it’s PS2, PS4, or PS5. Once I start a game, I get invested in it and push through from beginning to end.

I don’t like wasting time. That has always been a core part of how I operate. So when I play, I tend to absorb everything the game offers without constantly stepping outside of it.

For me, there’s no “until I get bored.” I usually commit from start to finish, and that focus helps me get fully immersed in the experience—almost like everything else disappears except me and the game.

And that’s also why I prefer developing my own strategies and approaches. I like figuring things out myself rather than watching someone else’s playthrough or relying on outside solutions.

Even when I hit a rough patch, I’ve made a conscious decision not to immediately turn to YouTube or guides. Instead, I work through it my own way.

At the end of the day, no two players will experience a game exactly the same way. Everyone builds their own strategies, their own rhythm, and their own understanding of how to play. That difference is what makes gaming personal.

Looking Ahead –

The change in my gaming philosophy now guides every decision I make. If there’s a collection for an older game that offers a new way to experience it, I’m open to buying it. I’m done spending hours researching when I could be playing and enjoying the experience instead.

Creating memories has become the core of how I approach gaming. When I think about how life is unpredictable, I sometimes ask myself what games I would want to remember most.

Apologies if that sounds morbid, but gaming memories aren’t just a concept to me—they’re real experiences that stay with you. If you love gaming enough, those memories become just as meaningful as anything else in life.

Right now, I’m working my way through Final Fantasy V Pixel Remaster, and I’m not focused on 100% completion or collecting every chest in every area.

I’m not even worried about learning every Blue Magic skill, especially since some of them aren’t worth my time. I’m letting the experience guide me instead of forcing myself to check every box.

I remind myself that collectibles are often a dime a dozen. What matters more is not robbing yourself of the experience of actually playing the game.

When you play a game, the goal should be simple: enjoy it, experience it, and fully immerse yourself in it. Find what works for you, carve your own path, and let that experience shape how you play.

And even if you turn that into something greater—like helping other gamers through your writing—do it knowing you’re still playing the game your way, and encouraging others to do the same.

Conclusion –

My takeaway is this: when you stop chasing the “perfect” version of a game, the time you once spent researching turns into something else entirely—a deeper connection with the game itself.

Looking back on the years I spent overthinking versions and choices, I realize that choosing to simply play is what made gaming enjoyable again.

Moving forward, this is how I approach everything related to gaming. I no longer do it based on someone else’s perspective or how I think it “should” be done. I do it from my own experience, in my own way.

That, to me, is the greatest lesson I’ve learned from changing my gaming philosophy.

Some games become more than just playthroughs—they shape how we experience gaming itself.

This is a collection of games I’ve played and reflected on through my own approach: no walkthrough reliance, no chasing perfect versions—just real gameplay experiences across generations.

Each entry represents a moment, lesson, or memory from playing games my way. Check it out here, https://benable.com/RoddyMcG/games-i-played-my-way-personal-gaming-experiences-across-generations

Contra is known as one of the hardest game series in gaming, and it’s no secret that frustration has caused many players to walk away from it over the years. Others, myself included, embraced the challenge and kept coming back for more.

When I finally had the opportunity to play Contra: Operation Galuga on my Nintendo Switch, I quickly realized this game is no exception. It’s easily one of the toughest entries in the series, and along the way it taught me more than a few valuable lessons.

Operation Galuga follows the classic Contra formula: enemies attacking from every direction, bullets filling the screen, and obstacles appearing with little warning. However, this time around, the game introduces a few new mechanics that change how you approach each stage—but more on those later.

What impressed me most was how the game constantly pushes you to think differently. Success isn’t just about quick reflexes anymore; it’s about making smart use of your weapons, perks, and abilities while adapting to whatever the game throws at you.

The tips and strategies you’re about to read aren’t copied from another guide. They’re based on my own experience playing through the game and the lessons I learned along the way.

Contra: Operation Galuga is going to make you earn every victory, but with the right mindset and a few solid strategies, you’ll be better prepared for the challenges ahead.

Let’s get started.

Don’t Panic –

This is one of the most ironic tips I can give you. Despite Contra’s reputation, most of the danger in Contra: Operation Galuga is right in front of you.

Sure, you’ll occasionally run into enemies charging at you with bombs or missiles, but for the most part, you’ll see the threats coming. That’s why there’s no reason to panic.

One of the things I appreciate most about this game is that staying calm becomes its own reward. When you’re trying to survive a difficult section or wondering why you died several times in a row, keeping a level head will help you far more than rushing ahead in frustration.

Instead of worrying about every possible ambush, focus on what’s happening in front of you and react accordingly.

Your weapons and each character’s unique abilities are designed to help you overcome the challenges the game throws at you.

While Operation Galuga will still surprise you from time to time, staying composed will carry you through most situations, including many of the boss battles.

The worst thing you can do is lose your temper. Unlike some of the earlier Contra games, Operation Galuga is more forgiving in several areas, giving you opportunities to recover from mistakes.

Stay patient, learn from each attempt, and you’ll make steady progress through the game.

One thing to always keep in mind is survival. That means keeping your weapon firing, your eyes on the battlefield, and your focus locked on what’s happening around you.

Contra has always been a game that rewards quick reactions, and Operation Galuga is no different.

While surviving isn’t quite as unforgiving as it was in some of the earlier Contra games, you’ll still have to earn every victory.

Timing your jumps, avoiding enemy fire, and keeping your weapon ready at all times are all part of staying alive.

Perhaps the biggest mistake you can make is letting your guard down. Contra is known for creating false moments of safety, only to send another wave of enemies your way.

Stay alert, keep moving, and you’ll greatly improve your chances of making it through each stage. longer.

Learn the Level –

This tip will save your life, especially during stages like the village level. Whenever possible, take the high ground. From there, you’ll have a much better view of approaching enemies and can avoid being surrounded. I relied on this strategy throughout the stage and often made it to the boss with little or no damage.

Taking the high ground also makes it much easier to study enemy patterns. If you eventually have to drop down into the action, you’ll already have a good idea of what’s waiting for you. I leaned heavily on this approach during both the village and waterfall sections, where enemies and obstacles seemed to be everywhere.

Veteran Contra players know that safe spots have always been rare, but Operation Galuga includes more opportunities to catch your breath than earlier games. Learning where those areas are can make the difference between preserving your Life Meter and losing a life.

Pay attention to where enemies appear less frequently or where the action temporarily slows down. If you discover a relatively safe area, use it. Regroup, clear the screen, and only move forward when you’re ready.

Some players may think they can run through the game perfectly on their first attempt, especially if they’re experienced with previous Contra titles. In reality, Operation Galuga still demands patience and practice. You’re going to make mistakes, and that’s part of the learning process.

Mastery doesn’t come from a perfect first run. It comes from learning the stages, recognizing enemy patterns, discovering where the weapon pods appear, and improving with every attempt.

Find Weapons That Fit Your Style –

Right from the start, I recommend turning off the Auto Weapons perk. For me, it takes away some of the excitement that comes from breaking open a weapon pod and discovering what you’re going to get. That’s always been part of the Contra experience.

Think about it this way. You begin the game with the weapon you wanted from the start. Then, a weapon pod flies by carrying something that might have been even better for the situation you’re facing. Suddenly, one of the game’s most enjoyable mechanics doesn’t feel nearly as rewarding.

Personally, I enjoy earning my weapons as I play. I could have started every run with my favorite combination—the Homing Gun and Spread Gun—but I chose not to. I wanted every weapon upgrade to feel earned, and that’s part of what made the experience enjoyable for me.

Operation Galuga is generous with weapon pods, so there’s no shortage of opportunities to build the loadout you want. Rather than relying on the Auto Weapons perk, let the game reward you naturally as you progress through each stage.

For me, the Homing Gun and Spread Gun became my go-to combination.

The Homing Gun allowed me to focus on dodging enemies and navigating each stage while the missiles handled threats around me. Against bosses with multiple weak points or dangerous appendages, it let me deal consistent damage without taking unnecessary risks.

The Spread Gun, on the other hand, is exactly what Contra fans expect. Anything directly in front of you is in serious trouble. It clears crowds, destroys obstacles quickly, and gives you room to breathe when the action becomes overwhelming.

That doesn’t mean these are the only weapons worth using. The Laser excels at attacking enemies directly ahead of you, while the Flamethrower can be very effective in the right situations. However, I found that constantly changing weapons became less effective than mastering the ones I enjoyed using the most.

My advice is simple: experiment with every weapon, then find the two that best fit your playstyle. Once you discover the combination that feels natural, stick with it. Mastering your favorite weapons will carry you much further than constantly switching between them.

Use Perks That Support Your Strengths –

For the first time in a Contra game, you get to choose what kind of edge you want to give yourself before the action even begins. These come in the form of perks. Think of them as small bonuses that can make a big difference throughout your playthrough.

There are several perks to choose from, but I only relied on a few because I wanted to give myself a strong start.

One of my favorites is Weapon Retention, which lets you keep your current weapon after dying. In a game where the right weapon can completely change a battle, this perk is incredibly valuable.

Another perk I highly recommend is HP Boost+ 1 & 2. These are lifesavers and can easily mean the difference between defeating a boss or seeing the Game Over screen.

Personally, I wouldn’t play without at least one of them. Having more health gives you extra room to recover from mistakes, which is invaluable in a game as demanding as Contra: Operation Galuga.

Another perk worth considering is Overload Heal. At first glance, it sounds like the perfect choice because it restores a health point whenever you use Overload. Against difficult bosses, that can be very tempting.

However, there’s a tradeoff. Overload consumes your current weapon, so using it too often means giving up weapons that may be ideal for the fight.

If your strategy revolves around frequent Overloads, this perk can be very effective. If you’re like me and prefer holding onto powerful weapons, you may get more value from perks that improve survivability instead.

Ultimately, the best perks are the ones that fit your playstyle. My personal favorites were Weapon Retention and HP Boost+ 1 & 2 because staying alive was my highest priority.

Your preferences may be different. You might enjoy recovering health with Overload Heal, extending your invincibility after taking damage, or experimenting with different combinations.

There isn’t a wrong choice. Try different perks, see what works for you, and build a setup that complements the way you enjoy playing Contra: Operation Galuga.

Bosses Test Patience, And They Will Too –

Commonly, bosses are a test of both mental acuity and gameplay. More than regular enemies, however, Contra bosses are designed to test your patience. They’ll throw attacks at you that seem impossible to avoid, overwhelm you with projectiles, and punish every mistake you make. Sometimes you’ll escape without taking damage, and other times you won’t.

This is where patience becomes your greatest weapon. Even if you take a hit or lose a life, every attempt teaches you something. Pay close attention to the boss’s attacks because many of them reveal brief openings in their defenses. These openings may only last a second or two, but they’re often the safest opportunities you’ll get to strike.

And for the love of all that’s holy, don’t get greedy. One of the easiest mistakes to make is focusing so much on dealing damage that you stop protecting yourself. Before you know it, you’re taking unnecessary hits simply because you wanted one more attack.

I learned this lesson the hard way more times than I care to admit. Trying to force damage usually ends with you losing more health than you gained by attacking. Instead, let the fight come to you.

Nearly every boss has a pattern, and every pattern has a weakness. Your job is to recognize it, stay patient, and strike when the opportunity presents itself.

Contra: Operation Galuga rewards players who stay calm under pressure. The longer you observe, the more predictable each boss becomes, and what once looked impossible gradually turns into another battle you know how to win.

Easy Mode is Training –

This is one of those Contra games that lets you play the way you want. If you’re a longtime Contra veteran, you may jump straight into Normal Mode. However, if you’re new to the series or simply want to learn what you’re up against, don’t be afraid to start on Easy Mode.

There’s no shame in it. In fact, I almost started there myself because, much like Ghosts ‘n Goblins Resurrection on Squire Mode, Contra: Operation Galuga will still punish you for making mistakes. The difference is that Easy Mode gives you more room to learn from those mistakes.

With fewer enemies on screen, you’ll have an easier time recognizing attack patterns, learning each stage, and figuring out which character works best in different situations. Instead of constantly fighting for survival, you can spend more time understanding how the game works.

At the risk of sounding a little hypocritical, beating the game on Easy Mode isn’t a bad thing. If that’s the difficulty that helps you become comfortable with the game, then that’s exactly where you should begin.

Looking back, I probably would have benefited from starting there myself. Instead, I chose Normal because I’m a bit of a glutton for punishment. Even so, Easy Mode is an excellent learning tool.

Once you feel comfortable, you can always move up to Normal Mode. But don’t feel pressured to do it immediately. Contra: Operation Galuga isn’t going anywhere, and neither is the challenge. You can always come back later when you feel ready.

The most important thing is to enjoy the game on your terms. Learn at your own pace, build your confidence, and challenge yourself when you’re ready—not because you feel like you have something to prove.

Conclusion –

So, to recap, Contra: Operation Galuga offers a whole new kind of Contra experience. As long as you stay calm, take the time to learn each level, and avoid panicking when things get hectic, you’ll be well on your way to success.

Keep in mind that just because there are several weapons and Overload abilities doesn’t mean you have to use every one of them. Find the weapons that suit your playstyle and stick with them.

The same goes for perks. Don’t feel obligated to choose the ones I preferred—this is your adventure, so build a setup that works best for you.

The more comfortable you become with your weapons, perks, and the game’s mechanics, the more patient you’ll become during boss battles.

That patience, combined with a willingness to learn, is what will ultimately carry you through the toughest fights. If you decide to start on Easy Mode, use it as an opportunity to learn the game, build your confidence, and prepare yourself for greater challenges later on.

Above all else, enjoy the journey. Every defeat teaches a lesson, every victory builds confidence, and every playthrough makes you a better Contra player. As the saying goes, slow and steady wins the race.

If you’re getting ready to jump into Contra: Operation Galuga, I’ve also put together a Benable list featuring games, accessories, and other recommendations inspired by this article. Whether you’re building your retro collection or looking for your next challenge, be sure to check it out!

https://benable.com/RoddyMcG/contra-operation-galuga-and-other-action-games-worth-your-time