And I am most certainly not a fan of Hyperdimension Neptunia Victory. Heck, I can't even pronounce it! Thankfully, I was not alone in my précis of the game: my own teenaged offspring repeatedly kept trying to convince me to shut it off whilst I repeatedly pressed the X button over and over like a disgruntled caveman in order to make my way through the title's never-ending barrage of dialogue screens, and I frequently kept pulling them by their collars as they less-than-coyly attempted to vamoose from the room so as to avoid being visually and aurally tormented by the sights and sounds the Japanese-made RPG had to offer. If I had to suffer, they did, too, dammit!
It was in fact odd that neither of them had any sort of interest in it, either. Normally, my daughter is eager to pounce upon anything RPG and/or Japanese in nature — a trait that seems all too familiar to me. In this instance, she was bored, outraged, and staggered by the mundane, repetitive nature of the game. The fact that some of the characters caused us to shout out "Pedobear!" surely did not help the enjoyment we so clearly were not experiencing any.
So, anyhoo, Hyperdimension Neptunia Victory—the third (!) in a series that I am grateful to not have been familiar with prior to this chance encounter (my editor offered, I accepted — not having so much as an inkling what I was getting into)—takes place in an alternate reality of the year 1989, where our heroine Neptune gets sucked into one of those funky time/space rift thingies and has to deal with a pending war between Gamindustri nations Lowee and Leanbox. Honestly, it sounds a lot more interesting than it really is. For the most part, all Hyperdimension Neptunia Victory appeared to be to me is one dialogue scene after another (I have never been so grateful to see a "Skip" option in all my life!) interlaced with occasional, short, battle sequence.
Like all of the other (better) single-player RPGs out there, this game gives you the option of choosing combo attacks against a variety of goofy-looking foes when you're roaming the surprisingly un-dungeon-like dungeon levels. Life in any of the game's cities, on the other hand, is quite disappointing: it's usually just a single snapshot of a town square, where you can gain entrance to certain marked buildings by scrolling over to them and pressing X. There are also a lot of strange characters sitting in the square (another resembling Pedobear, I might add: what is up with the Japanese, Chris?), who blab incoherent things which my children and I concluded were supposed to be funny after much deliberation (and a fair amount of crying, I might add).