Yokoyama Jirō rolled his eyes.
"Could you at least make it look professional? Even if you're hiring people to leave perfect scores, at least do it properly! What's with only two reviews? You think two people can convince anyone? Or is this game actually made by you guys? No, looking at these ratings, it definitely is!"
Still unwilling to give up entirely, he clicked into the game page with the mindset of at least taking a look. Yet before he even saw the actual game, a registration pop-up appeared on the crude webpage demanding that he create an account.
"Click!"
"Trash game!"
Yokoyama Jirō rolled his eyes again and immediately closed the webpage without even reading it further. He hated troublesome processes like this. The game simply wasn't worth spending time registering a separate account for.
Just as he was about to return to the game introduction page and leave a low rating, a third player review refreshed onto the screen.
[Lord Hattori Hanzō]: It's actually gold!? An incredibly innovative and astonishing game in every aspect. A work like this should be featured in the recommended upcoming masterpieces section. Although I've only been playing for a few hours, I can already feel the sincerity behind this game. It absolutely isn't something that can be compared to a mere hobby project or small company production. Especially the so-called "Mental Model" system—the quality of the character illustrations is noticeably superior to most mainstream large-scale card collection games right now. Based on the current trial phase, I'm giving it an excellent review. (The missing 0.5 points are due to uncertainty about unexplored content.) A very interesting and highly worthwhile game to explore. (9.5)
Yokoyama Jirō's fat body froze. He rubbed his eyes in disbelief.
Having spent years on this gaming website, he recognized many famous users. [Lord Hattori Hanzō] was one of the site's most well-known game testers, publicly acknowledged as the strongest "gold digger." Nearly every newly released game had traces of his reviews, and his objective, fair evaluations served as guideposts for many treasure hunters browsing new releases.
Generally speaking, [Lord Hattori Hanzō] gave scores ranging from 4 to 8. Anything above 9 belonged to titles with overwhelmingly positive public reception. However, games of that caliber had no reason to appear in this obscure new releases section in the first place—they had their own official websites and promotional channels.
Yokoyama Jirō's first reaction was that [Lord Hattori Hanzō] had finally started taking money for advertisements.
After thinking about it, though, that didn't seem likely either. There was no reason for him to destroy the reputation he had built up over the years just for an unknown game.
"Whether the game is actually fun or not, I can just test it myself."
Half doubtful yet carrying a trace of anticipation and curiosity, Yokoyama Jirō returned to the crude page from earlier, registered an account, and clicked login.
The page switched.
The moment he entered the game itself, Yokoyama Jirō was surprised again. Unlike the crude registration page, the game's internal visuals—from the background artwork to the UI design—were exceptionally polished. Nothing about it felt rough or cheaply made.
"Please select your starting ship."
"Shimakaze, Gromky, Z16, Yūdachi."
"So it's just another ship collection game. What's supposed to be so fun about this?"
Yokoyama Jirō shook his head in disappointment.
······
One week later, Yokoyama Jirō, a shut-in NEET who rarely left home, walked out the front door for the first time.
Under the dumbfounded gazes of his parents, he muttered, "I'm going to look for a job," while wandering off in a dazed state, mumbling to himself nonstop.
"How is this possible!? How is it possible! Why won't Kongō show up!? Did all my luck run out after building Bismarck!? I already spent every last yen in my savings stash! I used over one hundred thousand resources and performed large-scale construction more than a hundred times!"
"Construction docks, repair factories, and most importantly, marriage rings! All of them need money… money… money… Anyway, I'll check whether any nearby convenience stores are hiring first."
Yokoyama Jirō sighed helplessly.
Ever since he encountered 'Warship Girls Collection' a week ago, he realized he simply could not stop spending money on it. Even though, theoretically speaking, the game system was extremely generous and ordinary players could still enjoy it perfectly well without paying.
As more and more people came into contact with the game, he joined a dedicated 'Warship Girls Collection' chat group that only had around a dozen members discussing game-related content. In reality, the game continued to surprise them more and more.
Unlockable gameplay systems, countless mechanics, affection-triggered special systems, marriage mechanics, rare ship types, and all kinds of dazzling content gradually revealed themselves. They realized this was definitely not some hobby project or small-company production.
The exquisite and detailed UI design, varied background music, complete yet incredibly fun gameplay systems, professional voice acting, and, most unbelievable of all, the absurdly high-quality character illustrations.
[Shadow Ninja]: Seriously, this game is such a mystery. What I'm most worried about right now is whether the game might suddenly shut down one day. I'm at the point where I'm anxious about it every single day! My Z16 will finally have enough resources tomorrow to unlock her Mental Model.
[Hayase]: It probably won't, right? The game's origins are definitely mysterious, but a work this good shouldn't just disappear overnight.
[Sakamoto by the Window]: Well~ 'Warship Girls Collection' has incredibly high replay value. Its overall quality is far better than some first-rate games in the same genre. Why would something like this be quietly released in the obscure new releases section?
[Yoshida Akira]: Is Cloudy-kun around? I want to ask him about the fleet setup for Stage 1-2's boss. I've already sunk several ships that didn't have Mental Models unlocked yet.
[Snow Sakura]: He apparently stayed up all night grinding Stage 1-4 yesterday, so he's probably still sleeping.
[Shogun]: Speaking of which, yesterday Kubo-kun got a five-hour construction timer from large-scale construction. The ship's identity is still unknown.
[Hayase]: Nani!? Isn't he supposed to be the unluckiest one among us? Five-hour ships currently only exist in the in-game encyclopedia! That's basically a legendary weapon in 'Hero and Evil Dragon'!
[Shadow Ninja]: What kind of ship is it? Japanese? British? German? I want to see the Mental Model illustration. The artwork in this game is seriously incredible.
[Snow Sakura]: I think he spent money on the game. Even though the game feels almost hostile toward paying players, once you understand the monetization system a little, it genuinely feels like the developers are shouting at us: "Don't spend money! Absolutely don't spend money!"
[Mizuyoshi]: Actually, I spent a little too. Though I also feel this game is best enjoyed slowly. Right now, I've already raised Fubuki's affection to 90. Tomorrow, I can finally test what exactly the marriage system in the game does.
······
Not long ago, one of the members in the chat group revealed that he had obtained an unknown ship with a four-hour construction timer. Since he lacked instant construction tools, all twelve members of the group stayed awake with him until past one in the morning just to see what the longest construction-time ship currently in the game actually was.
Battleship — Kongō
After that, the player used all his resources to unlock her Mental Model; the exquisitely drawn Japanese-style illustration instantly struck directly at Yokoyama Jirō's aesthetic preferences.
Filled with envy, he dumped all his resources into large-scale construction, yet barely created any waves at all. Unwilling to give up and still clinging to a sliver of hope, he continued spending money to buy resources.
By the time he finally came back to his senses, the more than four hundred thousand yen he had painstakingly saved up was already completely gone.
Although he had obtained quite a few rare items and rare ships, Kongō never appeared.
Before encountering this game, Yokoyama Jirō couldn't even distinguish ship classifications. Yet now he had become utterly addicted to 'Warship Girls Collection.'
'Shadow Warrior'?
Not only had the money originally reserved for buying the game disappeared, but Yokoyama Jirō had not even realized that the demo release date he had eagerly awaited had already passed.
'Warship Girls Collection' was poisonous!