My name is “Miss Wang.” Sex: male. Don’t get the wrong idea. Wang is my surname, “Miss” is my given name, Miss Wang is what I’m called, and I am indeed a man. Originally I should’ve been lurking around Jiangsu and Zhejiang, but a love triangle with Pigeon Girl and the lady teacher left me so wrecked I decided to take an impromptu trip. I headed north, to a snow-covered place, and was told I’d be going to school here. I have no friends. I only have my “Koogle.” Koogle is my phone’s voice assistant, and I talk to her like an idiot on the regular. This godforsaken freezing hellhole, and I have to live here? Absolutely ridiculous. Good thing I’m not alone here — I’ve got a shot at meeting several girls. There’s a white-haired rich girl working part-time at Lawson, a black-long-straight-hair, black-tights, quietly-horny senpai, a tiny little seamstress girl, and a hyperthyroid girl who wants to be a vet. And miraculously, all four of them develop a keen interest in me at the same time. I have to wonder if this school is actually a girls’ school, or if every other guy here is just tragically under-endowed.

It’s the year 2050. Plague, war, resources running dry, and a whole lot of infighting have humanity staring down extinction. To head off the tragedy, humanity picks three representatives, forms the “Three Sages,” and hand-selects over a thousand genetically superior people to build a giant biological computer. Led by the Three Sages, the human gene modification project begins. Oh, right — it’s called the “Three Sages” and yes, there really are three people, but that’s just the name of the organization. The modified “new humans” are immune to a ton of viruses and bacteria, their constitutions are way stronger, and there are some “side effects”… a good number of them end up with “superpowers.” The Three Sages who improved the new humans also rewrote their own genes, gaining ageless, deathless lives along with monstrous physical ability and strength. But they chose to go into hiding, holed up in a secret underground base, quietly watching the new humans live. And so the world goes on for nearly 70 years.

I originally planned to write a 2019 eroge roundup, but my beloved Duan-ye nagged me on social media to post a shopping writeup, so that one gets pushed back. Honestly I like writing shopping posts too. They’re fast, simple, low-effort, and they still count as a post. Who wouldn’t? Esoteric audio stuff especially — you can bullshit freely with zero accountability, and apparently there are idiots who enjoy reading it. Perfect time for one, no? This time it’s about: the FiiO EH3 NC over-ear Bluetooth wireless headphones.

I’d nearly forgotten that I used to run around in the student council back in college. My whole student council stint was so boring I barely remember it. The org I joined was called the “Office.” I had no idea what it did then, and looking back it was probably something like a school office or faculty office — handling paperwork, doing publicity and the like. So it turns out I was already being forced to write stuff back then. A long, proud tradition. I don’t think I did much in the “Office,” either — just pulled together some notices and announcements, wrote some notices and announcements. Most of the time I hid in the student council room playing games, messing with my phone, messing with a computer. Actually I only got into the student council because the president picked me. The president was a girl, reasonably good-looking, friendly. I have no idea why she picked me or what I was supposed to do once I was in, and frankly I never saw what anyone else in the council did, either. In my head the “student council” was a purely nominal body with zero real power, no funding, and nothing to show for itself besides printing the occasional poster. Oh, right — the student council did organize an evening party once. I remember the president telling me she wanted to put on an evening party with real feeling. She was really into folk and rock. I think the two are kind of worlds apart, but my impression of her was always that she was that artsy type of girl. She also said that instead of a conventional evening party, a bonfire gathering would be better — more down-to-earth, more popular with the students. Naturally all her ideas got shot down in the end. The school took the whole thing over and turned it into exactly the kind of party she hated. You could read the displeasure all over her face. The so-called “student-council-organized evening party” still had the student council’s name on it, but it had nothing to do with us anymore. “Nothing to be done. Sometimes that’s just how things are.”

Why I bought it: I’ve always used a Surface Pro 4 as my “secondary machine.” The reason is simple: I need Windows, especially for playing Galgame. Unfortunately my Surface Pro 4 later went to my wife, so I no longer had a Windows machine. I started thinking about getting a new one, and that’s when I saw the Chuwi Minibook project on Indiegogo. I was hooked instantly. I compared it against other similar products, including the GPD Pocket 2 MAX and the One-Netbook, and each had its merits, but the Chuwi Minibook had these highlights: Supports Yoga-style tablet flipping Front camera quality better than the GPD Pocket 2 MAX User-replaceable/expandable NVMe SSD The Chuwi Minibook has the biggest keyboard buttons (typing is no problem) Internals are closer to a real laptop, with metal shielding — less of the knockoff feel than GPD and the like Cheap, cheap, cheap! The One-Netbook with the same specs as the Chuwi Minibook costs more, GPD isn’t cheaper than Chuwi, and it doesn’t support Yoga mode either Keyboard backlight, which GPD doesn’t have Pressure-sensitive stylus support, which GPD doesn’t have I figured the Chuwi was the most well-rounded overall and fit my needs well, so I joined the crowdfunding campaign and picked the 16GB RAM / 8100Y version. The campaign ended in August, with a few free spec upgrades along the way, plus a stylus and an EVA hard shell case thrown in. It didn’t arrive until October, though. As everyone knows, Chuwi is a Shenzhen shanzhai factory, so I didn’t have to wait for an international package like the other foreigners on Indiegogo. Mine came by SF Express. But that was only the start of a whole saga.

I can’t remember who Parasol’s parent company is, I just always got the feeling they’re half-dead. By “half-dead” I mean they keep making games that feel out of step with the times, the kind you look at and think “no way this sells,” and the wildest part is they make them and still don’t go under. Still, every now and then Parasol puts out something normal—though those games always make me suspect the writer’s brain is wired wrong. Take their most famous one, Haru na Hana. But I do think Parasol genuinely wants to make good games, and Sakura Hitohira Koi Moyou from two years back was actually pretty solid. It even introduced this surprisingly ahead-of-its-time concept, basically an “internet addiction boot camp” school. Shame is, a lot of Japanese players didn’t get it—they kept saying “no way a school like that exists, where they lock kids up and force total obedience to the principal, that’s so fake.” Apparently the game got an official Simplified Chinese release, so maybe Chinese players would understand it better. Not that I’ve looked into how they actually felt about it. If they can make something like Sakura Hitohira Koi Moyou, that proves Parasol’s got some skill. So naturally, strike while the iron’s hot—make something even better, reinvent yourself, achieve self-actualization, all that. So I waited, and in 2019 Parasol dropped a game called Koarashi Spiritchu. At first glance it looked pretty hype. Then I saw the premise and immediately spat out my drink.

Animal Panic (あにまる☆ぱにっく) is a weird game… First off, the premise is weird. It comes from QUINCE SOFT, a Lump of Sugar sub-brand I’d just been praising for Mono no Aware wa Iro no Koro.. I figured it was Lump of Sugar’s experimental plot, a place for oddball new games with strange setups. A year and change later, I got slapped in the face. Animal Panic looks like the most generic moege imaginable, and the staff list gives zero reason to expect surprises. Then, even weirder: I actually played the damn thing for some reason, and found it contains stuff way stranger than I expected.

I’ve always been waiting for Yuzusoft to crash, but unfortunately their games have always been stable—it’s hard for them to crash because their production process is practically an assembly line. Pick a theme/setting for the game Design characters based on the theme Then get scenario writers to split the story, write each part, and stitch it together Start the hype campaign, release countdown animations every day Release character songs, keep building hype Remix the character song tracks and use them as the game’s OST Game ships Also, Yuzusoft’s artists are almost always the same, so the art style is guaranteed, and the voice actors they hire are all competent. After playing, you basically never feel like it’s a “landmine”—at worst you think “the story is just okay,” “too formulaic,” “the setting is a bit childish”—not outstanding, but definitely not bad. This level of quality has also bred a lot of “irrationally devoted Yuzu fans.” I vaguely remember saying on social media that Riddle Joker had a dumb story, and someone tracked me down on Telegram to rant at me, practically saying “I’m so mad I’m so mad I’m so mad.” That shows how powerful Yuzusoft’s magic is. But precisely because of the nature of their games, most Yuzu fans are quite young, many still minors. I remember seeing a post on Twitter about a minor who broke down after being rejected from a Yuzu live event. So I have mixed feelings about Yuzusoft: I love them because they’re genuinely one of the benchmarks of the visual novel genre, and they always manage to cast voice actors I like, I hate them because they’ve always been an assembly line producing moe-feed with zero innovation. The impact of Yuzusoft’s lack of innovation isn’t just on themselves. As a cult company where “every new release tops the annual sales chart,” if they can keep making easy money off the assembly line, other companies will inevitably copy them. I really don’t want every visual novel company to become like Yuzusoft—if that happens, the industry is truly doomed. But this year’s Yuzusoft seems to have actually tried something different… And they crashed…