Chapter 1457 1375 — Monster Hunter DissMONSTER HUNTER

The score underneath it read:

8/10

Zaboru paused.

"Huh."

He leaned closer, then looked back toward the score again with a curious little smile instead of any real annoyance. Eight out of ten was obviously still a good score, especially for a brand-new IP introducing players to an unfamiliar structure, but after seeing so many nines, a 9.5, and even perfect tens throughout the rest of the launch coverage, Monster Hunter naturally stood out.

Zaboru flipped backward to the review index on the first page, where all twelve launch scores had been printed together. Sure enough, Monster Hunter sat noticeably beneath most of the lineup.

"Heheheh… I honestly thought they were gonna give this nine too." He turned back toward the review, now visibly interested. "Alright then. What got you guys?"

The opening paragraph was extremely positive.

Zemitsu praised the core concept immediately. Hunting massive monsters, carving materials from their bodies, then turning those materials into stronger weapons and armor was described as one of the most satisfying progression loops in the launch lineup. The reviewer particularly loved how defeating a new monster did not simply award abstract experience points. The creature itself became the reward. Its horns, scales, claws, shells, hides, and other materials could eventually become equipment that visually represented what the player had overcome.

The magazine also praised the monster design. Even the early creatures moved convincingly, while larger monsters behaved less like traditional boss enemies and more like animals occupying an ecosystem. They roamed between areas, became enraged, weakened visibly, attempted to flee when injured, and reacted differently depending on where the player attacked them. Breaking horns, damaging wings, severing tails, or targeting specific body parts could alter both the fight and the materials earned afterward.

Graphically, Zemitsu called Monster Hunter spectacular. Large creatures had detailed scales, fur, teeth, muscle movement, and natural-looking animation, while environments felt broad enough that tracking prey across them genuinely created the feeling of going on an expedition rather than entering an arena.

Zaboru nodded approvingly while reading. "Alright. Good start. They get the appeal."

Then came the section titled:

THE PROBLEM: THE HUNT DOESN'T END WHEN THE MONSTER DIES

Zaboru stopped.

Then slowly grinned.

"Ohhh. Here we go."

The reviewer complained that Monster Hunter was simply too grind-heavy. Creating a full equipment set often required killing the same creature several times because one hunt rarely provided every material required. Certain parts had lower drop rates, while upgrades could demand additional resources from gathering, mining, fishing, or smaller monsters.

The reviewer wrote that the first few hunts felt exciting, but being told to defeat the same large monster repeatedly simply because one missing material refused to drop could become exhausting.

Zaboru's eyes widened slightly.

Then he laughed.

"Hahahaha! THAT'S what got you guys?"

He continued reading, still amused rather than offended.

Zemitsu also criticized gathering. Mining required repeated interactions with ore deposits. Harvesting herbs and mushrooms took time. Carving monster bodies used deliberate animations rather than instantly transferring materials into the inventory. None of those actions were individually terrible, but the reviewer argued that together they created stretches where the player spent too much time gathering resources instead of fighting monsters.

Zaboru leaned back and laughed again. "Oh, man. Yep. First-time Monster Hunter players." He shook his head with a grin. "I knew this was gonna happen."

The funniest part was that Zaboru had already made this version considerably less painful than the earliest Monster Hunter games he remembered from his previous life. Material requirements were generally more modest, several gathering animations had been shortened, inventory management was less annoying, and some of the truly tedious systems had already been cleaned up.

And Zemitsu still thought it was grindy.

"Heheheh… if I gave these guys the actual early Monster Hunter grind from my previous world, this score might become a six." He rubbed his chin, still chuckling. "Actually, maybe a five after the third Rathalos plate refuses to drop."

He understood the criticism perfectly, though. Monster Hunter's loop was weird if someone approached it like a normal action RPG. Most games trained players to think of repetition as something to avoid. Monster Hunter turned repetition into part of the progression itself. A monster that initially felt terrifying gradually became familiar. The player learned its habits, discovered better routes, understood when to sharpen, when to heal, where to stand, what parts to target, and which materials actually mattered.

The first hunt might take thirty minutes.

The fifth might take fifteen.

The tenth could become almost routine.

And then the game introduced something nastier.

Zaboru smiled. "Yeah, I get why they're calling it repetitive right now. They haven't reached the point where repetition becomes mastery yet."

The review then moved into something even funnier.

Zemitsu criticized several deliberately inconvenient animations.

Potions were the biggest example.

When the hunter drank one, they stopped moving, finished the drink, then performed a brief flexing animation afterward. Against smaller enemies this was mostly harmless. Against a large angry monster, however, choosing the wrong moment could get the player flattened.

The reviewer apparently learned that lesson against Black Diablos.

The article described a hunt where the reviewer finally found what looked like enough distance to heal, drank the potion, then watched helplessly as the hunter finished the flex while Black Diablos charged across the area and smashed directly into them.

They died.

The reviewer wrote:

"Why does my hunter need to celebrate drinking medicine while a giant horned monster is trying to murder him?"

Zaboru froze for half a second.

Then immediately burst out laughing.

"HAHAHAHAHAHA! YES! THAT'S IT!"

He actually leaned forward over the magazine, laughing harder as he imagined the reviewer staring helplessly at the animation while Black Diablos thundered closer.

"That's what peak sounds like!"

He wiped at one eye, still grinning. "The best part is that the flex is completely fucking useless. Completely. There is no gameplay reason for the hunter to go—" Zaboru briefly mimicked the ridiculous flex with one arm, "'YEAH!' after drinking medicine."

That only made him laugh again.

"And I kept it anyway."

The flex had survived multiple internal discussions during development. Some designers had suggested shortening it. Others suggested removing it entirely because the animation served no practical function besides leaving the player exposed.

Zaboru had rejected them.

Not because the flex was necessary.

Because it was funny.

And because after enough hours, it became part of Monster Hunter's identity.

Zaboru grinned down at the magazine. "That reviewer probably thinks this is some accidental bad animation. Nope. We saw it. We discussed it. I looked directly at it and said, 'Keep that shit.' Heheheh."

More seriously, the entire potion animation did serve an important gameplay function even if the flex itself was gloriously unnecessary. Healing required commitment. The player had to create an opening instead of treating potion use like an instant panic button. Monster positioning mattered. Area knowledge mattered. Reading an attack pattern mattered.

"If you can sprint around Black Diablos while gulping Mega Potions with zero risk, then why even learn her openings?" Zaboru muttered. "But the flex?" He immediately started laughing again. "No defense. That part is just us being assholes."

He shook his head, clearly enjoying the criticism.

"Fair complaint. Still keeping it."

Some things were sacred.

Then he reached another section.

WEAPONS: GREAT IDEAS, UNEVEN FUN

Zaboru's grin remained as he continued.

The reviewer praised how dramatically each weapon changed the game. Sword and Shield felt quick and flexible. Lance rewarded defense, precision, and positioning. Hammer delivered satisfying blunt damage, especially when targeting monster heads. Dual Swords is basically Ninja , Light and Heavy Bowguns transformed hunts into ranged resource-management exercises involving ammunition types, positioning, and support.

Then came the sentence:

"The Great Sword, however, feels excessively slow and may be one of the least exciting weapons in the game."

Zaboru stared at it.

There was a brief silence.

Then instead of getting genuinely annoyed, the corners of his mouth slowly rose.

"Ohhhh, you poor bastard."

He started laughing.

"Hahaha! You don't know yet!"

The article continued by saying the enormous weapon dealt impressive damage but required too much commitment. Attacks were slow, movement while drawn was limited, and missing a heavy strike left the player dangerously exposed.

Zaboru nodded along as he read. "Yep. Correct. Correct. Also correct." Then he pointed toward the page. "And that's why it's good."

He was not angry at the reviewer. If anything, the criticism was almost nostalgic. He remembered having similar thoughts the first time he encountered Great Sword mechanics in his previous life. To someone who had not yet learned the weapon, it absolutely felt like dragging a piece of architecture around while every monster moved ten times faster than the player.

"That's the trap," Zaboru muttered with an amused grin. "Great Sword looks like the simplest weapon in the game, so beginners assume they're supposed to chase monsters around swinging it."

In both worlds, Great Sword was Zaboru's weapon.

Its core idea was almost comically straightforward: giant sword, giant damage.

A beginner could understand that instantly.

Actually using it well was another matter entirely.

"The skill floor is low," Zaboru said quietly, "but the ceiling is fucking ridiculous."

Great Sword depended on prediction more than reaction. A good player did not constantly chase the monster while keeping the weapon drawn. They sheathed it. Repositioned. Watched. Learned how the creature turned, which direction its head moved after an attack, how long recovery animations lasted, where a charge ended, how enraged behavior altered timing, and where the monster would be several seconds from now.

Then they stood there.

And waited.

Zaboru smiled.

"That's what these guys haven't learned yet."

The weapon transformed Monster Hunter into something almost predictive. A poor Great Sword player responded to what the monster was currently doing. A strong Great Sword player attacked where the monster was about to be.

That distinction was everything.

Zaboru had even expanded the Great Sword compared with the primitive versions he remembered from his previous life. The ZEPS 4 Monster Hunter still did not have later advanced techniques such as True Charged Slash. He had deliberately kept that away from the first game because he wanted the basic identity of the weapon to establish itself before future entries expanded it further.

Instead, the first game revolved around a simpler advanced mechanic:

Perfect Charge Slash.

The player could hold the attack and build one major charge. Releasing too early produced weaker damage. Holding too long lost the optimal timing. But releasing precisely at the peak caused the hit to land with dramatically greater force.

The timing window was narrow enough that beginners would miss it constantly.

Good and Experienced players could begin feeling it without even looking.

Then Zaboru had added a particularly nasty reward for people who truly understood monster behavior.

Every large monster had certain aggressive lunge animations where its mouth, jaw, face, or other vulnerable frontal area became briefly exposed. If the player released a Perfect Charge Slash at exactly the right moment and connected directly with that exposed point during the lunge, the hit received roughly three times the normal damage, dealt enormous part damage, and almost guaranteed a stagger if the attack connected cleanly.

High risk.

Huge reward.

Zaboru began grinning wider while imagining it.

"You don't chase Black Diablos with the Great Sword," he said. "You learn the charge. You stand where that ugly face is going to arrive…"

He mimicked gripping an enormous sword.

"…and then—"

He swung one arm downward.

"BONK."

Zaboru immediately laughed.

"Right in the fucking mouth."

A correctly timed Perfect Charge could interrupt certain monster attacks entirely. Horns could break. Heads could stagger. A charging monster could suddenly be stopped mid-assault by one hunter who had stood completely still and trusted his timing.

"That shit looks incredible when someone actually knows what they're doing."

He looked again at Zemitsu's description of Great Sword as one of the least exciting weapons.

Then chuckled.

"Honestly, I love that they wrote this."

Because it gave him something to prove.

Not angrily.

Playfully.

A few months from now, once skilled players truly understood Great Sword, Zemitsu's own review might become funny in hindsight.

Zaboru could already picture the videos.

Hunters standing motionless while Rathalos descended toward them.

A charge building.

Perfect release.

One enormous impact directly to the head.

Rathalos collapsing from the air.

Zaboru grinned.

"Yeah. I definitely need to upload a Great Sword demonstration soon. Not because they insulted me."

He paused.

"Well…"

He laughed.

"Maybe like ten percent because they insulted me and 90% teaching plebs how to use the damn thing."

Still amused, he continued reading the conclusion.

Zemitsu did not hate Monster Hunter at all. In fact, the final paragraph strongly recommended it to players who enjoyed deliberate combat, equipment progression, boss hunting, and cooperative play. Four-player online hunts received particular praise. Combining different weapons created satisfying teamwork without forcing rigid RPG-style roles. Lance users could maintain pressure near the monster and block dangerous attacks. Bowgun users could attack safely from distance or bring specialized ammunition. Hammer users naturally wanted the head. Cutting weapons targeted tails and other severable parts. Sword and Shield users could remain mobile and flexible.

The magazine also praised how chaotic online hunting could become when four players were still learning.

One reviewer described an early Rathalos hunt where all four hunters arrived with completely different ideas about what they were supposed to be doing. The Great Sword user kept missing. The Hammer user accidentally launched a teammate. A Bowgun user shot from too far away to contribute meaningful damage. The Sword and Shield player spent half the fight desperately healing himself.

They still won.

Barely.

Zaboru laughed while reading it. "That sounds like launch-week Monster Hunter alright."

Another paragraph noted how satisfying the game became when the same group hunted together repeatedly. Players naturally learned one another's habits without needing formal class assignments. The Hammer player began claiming the head. Cutting weapons stopped standing directly in his way. Bowgun users learned useful firing positions. Heavy weapons stopped knocking allies around constantly.

The game slowly turned four strangers into an actual hunting party.

That part pleased Zaboru more than the score ever could.

The final verdict described Monster Hunter as:

"A brilliant and highly original hunting game held back by repetition and deliberate inconvenience. Players willing to accept its demanding rhythm may find something extremely special here."

Zaboru read the sentence once.

Then again.

A small smile appeared.

"Yeah."

He tapped the page lightly.

"That's a proper review."

They had understood what the game did well.

They had clearly explained what bothered them.

They had not called the game bad simply because some design choices irritated them.

And most importantly, the criticisms were completely reasonable for players encountering Monster Hunter for the first time.

Zaboru leaned back and looked toward the 8/10 again.

"So Monster Hunter is the game they enjoyed least."

He laughed softly.

"That's actually kind of funny."

Of all twelve launch games, this was the one Zaboru suspected had the greatest chance of changing its reputation over time.

Monster Hunter was not necessarily a game that revealed its entire appeal during the first ten hours.

One hunt became two.

Two became five.

Eventually the player wanted one specific Rathalos material.

They hunted it again.

Nothing.

Again.

Wrong material.

Again.

Still nothing.

By the sixth hunt they were complaining.

By the tenth they knew Rathalos better than they knew some coworkers.

Then finally—

The plate dropped.

Zaboru grinned.

"And suddenly you're the happiest bastard alive."

The player crafted the weapon they wanted.

Then noticed the next upgrade.

It required something else.

So they hunted another monster.

Then another.

And somewhere in that process, the "grind" stopped feeling like repetition and started becoming the game itself.

Zaboru chuckled quietly.

"They just haven't played enough yet."

He did not mean that dismissively. Maybe some players would genuinely never enjoy that rhythm. That was fine. Monster Hunter was not supposed to satisfy everybody.

But for the players it clicked with?

Zaboru already knew what would happen.

They would disappear for hundreds of hours.

He closed the magazine partially and grinned.

"I bet Zemitsu revisits this score someday."

Maybe the score would remain eight.

Maybe it would rise.

That did not really matter.

What amused Zaboru was the possibility that months later the same reviewer who complained about repeating hunts might suddenly realize he had killed Rathalos forty-seven times voluntarily.

"Heheheh… now THAT would be funny."

Zaboru finally stood from his chair and stretched his arms. Tomorrow he would be leaving for the United States, and there were still several things he needed to prepare before heading home.

But before walking away, he glanced once more toward the Monster Hunter review.

His eyes settled on ZEPS 4 "Hmm Should i live stream now..?" Zaboru grinned then he shook his head "Nah probably later"

To be continued.