What Movies Couldn't Do

Just as the frenzied mob was about to tear apart the owner's beloved arcade, a small delivery truck finally appeared at the end of the street.

The delivery was here!

"Everyone, calm down! The machines are here! In an hour at most, you'll all be able to play Contra!"

The truck pulled over, and an unloading ramp was set up.

Two sleek arcade cabinets were rolled down on a dolly and revealed to the crowd.

John, squeezed into the outermost edge of the crowd, spotted the artwork on the cabinets at a glance.

Schwarzenegger had a cigar clenched between his teeth and a handsome machine gun in his hands.

That new look, utterly different from his old "barbarian" image, pierced straight through John's heart.

"Mike, no matter what, I'm trying that damn game today!"

"Really?" Mike pointed into the arcade. "Then we're already way too late."

With the line as it was, getting a turn before dark would count as God Almighty bestowing his divine grace.

Mike began to wonder whether he had accidentally crossed over into some parallel world.

Look at these guys, practically fighting other people over a spot. They were making all this fuss over a video game?

What happened to video games being dead?

He could clearly see the tightly packed players wriggling along with the two machines, pouring into the arcade.

The arcade owner's face positively glowed. He looked ten years younger.

He was working desperately alongside his staff to maintain the fragile order, keeping these rioters away from the two machines he had scrambled to buy for nearly ten thousand dollars.

Ten thousand dollars!

If he had bought those cheap games, he could have lined an entire wall with them!

Yet he didn't feel the slightest sting now. He was even starting to feel rather pleased with himself.

At a dollar per play, he would recover his entire investment in less than half a month.

After that, these two machines would become the crown jewels of his arcade.

They could bring in hundreds of dollars in gross revenue every day. They were practically hens that laid golden eggs!

Not daring to waste a single second, they quickly positioned the machines, plugged them in, and switched them on.

"Jump, Mike! Jump!"

John hammered the buttons furiously, using the fierce spread fire from his S power-up to clear wave after wave of endless enemies.

On the other side of the screen, Mike was having a much rougher time.

The blue-haired tough guy controlled by player two kept somersaulting through the air, barely dodging bullets that grazed his scalp each time.

Mike bit down hard on his lip, mechanically pressing the jump button over and over.

To give him enough firepower to fight the enemy, John had let him take quite a few crucial power-ups.

Yet he kept making stupid mistakes with the controls. Not only had he wasted an M power-up and a rapid-fire upgrade, he had also used up all their lives.

One more mistake, and their game would end right there.

Mike didn't dare stop and look back, but the waves of heat rolling over him from behind were enough to tell him that plenty of people were waiting.

Once this game ended, getting another turn would be utterly impossible.

"John, I can't make it. The rest is up to you..."

In the end, Mike still made a wrong move. The turret ahead hit him square between the eyes, reducing him to dust on the spot.

John didn't answer. He focused on the player-one character under his control.

The graphics were still pixelated, but he could clearly tell that this was Mr. Schwarzenegger.

Or rather... this was who he wanted to become.

He stopped his futile attempts to provide cover and pulled back, leaping onto a platform behind him.

John abruptly hammered the directional controls in succession, and his gun swung down to the right.

The shotgun weapon upgraded by the S power-up spat out a fan-shaped barrage, quickly destroying the turret.

Such a daring maneuver immediately drew gasps from the onlookers around him.

That move had taken him straight into a hail of bullets. The slightest slip would have killed him.

With Contra's one-hit-death mechanic, any mistake was fatal.

But he had done it, just like an action-movie hero!

Even John hadn't expected to pull it off. His breathing came fast, but the corners of his mouth curled upward.

Games were completely different from movies.

He had gone from spectator to participant, becoming the one playing the hero.

John still had only a pair of slender, delicate arms, not his idol's tough-guy physique.

Yet at that moment, he clearly felt an exhilaration unlike anything he had ever known.

He charged into the enemy camp with his gun, tearing through their defenses with a hero's fighting prowess.

Standing beside him, Mike also marveled at how thoroughly absorbed John was.

It was just that he didn't have such strong feelings about Schwarzenegger. He judged it more on the game itself.

In the past, when evaluating a work of entertainment, he would usually consider it from various angles to give it an overall score.

It was like Conan the Barbarian: exhilarating and fluid, but lacking depth in its plot, with no profound, inscrutable ideas about values.

Yet Mike didn't feel the slightest negativity.

If he were made to watch Conan the Barbarian a second time, he would get irritated, because he had already experienced that same content once.

But with Contra, Mike had no doubt that he would still enjoy it over and over again.

If he really had to give it a verdict, it would probably be just two words-

Great fun!

So fucking fun!

The only problem was that he really was far too much of a noob.

Mike scratched his head, glanced at the clock on the wall, and abruptly snapped back to reality.

"How is it this late already? Damn it, John, stop playing! We're going to be late for work!"

As two community college students at the bottom of the ladder, barely keeping themselves fed and clothed, they had to take on plenty of part-time work to help cover household expenses, even on weekends.

They only had the chance to kill time here today because a couple of their jobs had recently been snatched away by homeless men who didn't play by the rules.

Only then did John wake as though from a dream and look toward the clock.

Allowing for the time it would take to get back, they had very little time left to waste.

But...

He turned back toward the screen.

His character stood imposing and magnificent inside the enemy base, ready to save the world.

He truly couldn't bear to let go of such an incredible experience.

He didn't want to lose this moment.

"I really, really want to finish this game..."

John's expression fell.

Whatever the final outcome might be, he already regarded this game as a journey through another world.

But he also knew this wasn't the time to be willful. If he lost his job, he would be in serious trouble.

Just then, an impatient voice suddenly urged him from behind:

"Buddy, hurry up, please. If you've got somewhere to be, just save your game and let someone else have a turn."

It was the player standing behind the two of them in line.

John's superb skills were no good thing for him. After waiting this long, he had completely run out of patience.

"Save?"