A while back, “Bro of Bros” Tony Daiki finally dropped a new album after six years, with a ridiculously flashy title: Greatest Works of Art. But when I actually listened to it, something felt off: “It’s just a pretty ordinary album—honestly, a lot of it feels outdated, it’s lost that forward-looking edge it used to have. How can you call this ’the greatest works of art’ with a straight face?” Then the MV came out, I watched it, and it hit me. Oh. So “Greatest Works of Art” isn’t the whole album—it’s just the lead single. And the song isn’t saying it’s great; it’s just name-dropping and mashing up all the “greatest works” from art history. So the album is called Greatest Works of Art because that’s the lead single. And the lead single is called “Greatest Works of Art” because its content pays tribute to those “greatest works”—not because the song itself is great. Once you get that, the title actually makes sense. No real problem, just a bit of deliberate clickbait. To me, Jay Chou’s new album feels more like a Frankenstein—stitching together everything he thinks is “the sickest” or “the greatest,” and that’s it. This kind of tribute-and-stitch approach to “great works” happens in plenty of fields, and in the almost-ignored world of eroge, it’s practically the norm. Take Neko to Joshiryou seyo! (ネコと女子寮せよ!), the game I’m talking about here.