Fact: 99% of wanderers quit adventuring right before they’re about to hit it big.

Shiren 6 won’t turn you into Howard Ratner, but it’s addicting enough that you’ll probably feel like him at some point. A big part of what brings this about for me is that, in contrast to the approach of certain roguelikes like the Necrodancer games (which have unique pulls of their own), you have no means of mitigating the randomness of or otherwise controlling which items you’ll find. Whether you die frustratingly deep into a dungeon or at its entrance, the unshakeable chance that you’ll come across some killer weapon or weirdo shield or several different kinds of companions early on enough to make your next run a relative breeze makes replays so inviting, especially when taken together with the game’s brisk pace (compared to other turn based RPGs) and the length of each area being just right for its respective gimmick. Potentially the coolest contributor to this feeling’s the passive online elements which give other players the option of rescuing you if you die, in turn letting you continue your run and retain your gear from that point if they’re successful. The relatively small fanfare this game’s gotten in western countries so far means you’ll likely be waiting a timezone or two for just the chance of engaging with this system at all, but it’s no less effective than the other stuff I’ve mentioned at funnelling you into the grindset of “just one more run.”

Making it out as if its addictiveness or how far you’ll make it’s all down to randomness and other players’ goodwill would be selling it short, though, because there’s still ample room to flex your own familiarity with the mechanics despite how simple they seem on the face of it. This probably doesn’t look like much, but rest assured that my cheeks were firmly clenched during it for a lot of reasons – moving carefully in a zigzag motion to limit the directions in which the bowboy can attack, getting just barely enough health back each turn to be able to survive a single hit towards the end, briefly pausing to process whether the trap I’d stepped on had actually triggered and taking more damage than I needed to because I’d equipped a shield that trades protection for halving the rate at which your hunger increases each turn. The latter notwithstanding, my decisions got me through it as much as the luck of two of his attacks happening to miss. For how much of an immediately noticeable load they take off in scenarios like this, this still holds true whenever you eventually unlock companions through certain sidequests too. I’d have been snookered in this situation if it weren’t for them evening the odds, but them surviving the ambush along with me’s also down at least in part to the equipment I’d kitted one of them out with, as well as managing the party’s collective HP by occasionally swapping positions with them.

Companions are just one example of a lot of gamechanging content that the devs impressively have the restraint to keep optional. You’d think a game finishes when the credits roll, right? In this case, there’s so much content you’ll only see after that point that it’s tough to pinpoint a definitive start or end. Off the top of my head, I want to say that probably half or more of the dungeons in the game only become accessible in the post-game, and each of them comes with some new mechanical hook that you won’t experience in the main story dungeon until they’re unlocked. Turning enemies into peach buns and then turning yourself into a playable version of those enemies by eating said peach buns? Check. Having every enemy that appears be a giant miniboss version of them, emphasising running away and hunger management as opposed to fighting? Yup. What about if barely any weapons spawned and you can’t tell what any of the items you’re picking up are, but you can see every trap and use them against enemies in exchange? They thought of that too, and it’s just as well, because I didn’t.

I once read somebody who wasn’t keen on roguelikes as a whole write that “when every run is different, every run is the same.” Although it’s an interesting thought, I think the sheer variation in items, dungeons and environments here (which my above description only really scratches the surface of) offset this a good amount. Somebody else might never experience what it’s like to have to essentially act as a support character for your party because no good weapons have dropped only to have a sentient cabbage brainwash you all into killing each other, feel a sudden pang of despair at a water enemy causing your dozens of unpreserved foods to rot all at once when you’re nearly starving or scrape your way out of an encounter with a critical hit brought about by your current health ending in an odd number, but those are just a few experiences I’ve found especially memorable. You could argue that even static story events tied to progression checkpoints won’t be the same for any two people, given how different the contexts leading up to them will be thanks to all of this.

As all of the above’s hopefully conveyed, you can expect the hours to fly by while playing this. Not sure whether it’s right to call something a hidden gem when it’s part of a franchise notorious enough to have more than half a dozen Pokemon spinoffs, but considering that (like I mentioned at the start) runs of mine have only ever been rescued overnight, I’d wager that this could well do with more appreciation outside of Japan. It’s yet another point in favour of trying out lesser knowns on a whim: if, like me, you ever happen to be looking to fill a turn-based-RPG-with-fun-positioning-stuff-and-getting-fiddly-with-equipment-shaped hole in your Switch’s library, this a great shout.