Family Bits Book Series

Many years ago, during a time that now feels like a whole other life, I set a goal for myself to collect every original unlicensed Famicom game, an objective that a lot of people viewed as impossible. I never did finish that goal, but I did end up bringing my collection to a level that I never would have imagined, and the initial goal would get expanded over the years.

Back when I was first collecting those games, one of the problems was trying to determine what actually existed, so I put forth a lot of time in making my own lists of games, sorting them and categorizing the games on them. Many of those lists can still be found on this very blog. One of the things I was never satisfied with was that the lists were just that – lists. My dream was to see this information in some sort of large book, or even a database like the one that resides at Atari Age. And thus Family Bits was born, a book that would contain *every* Famicom game.

I started writing Family Bits around 2016, but a messy breakup left me mentally in shambles. Then I started thinking about pragmatic issues, such as how I could actually get someone to publish the book. I thought about using Kickstarter and self-publishing, but again I ran into issues, with one big problem being that of scope – how could I get a book published that was looking to be over two-thousand pages? Oh, and I wanted it as a hardcover, color book.

Years later I heard about self-publishing via Amazon’s print-on-demand service, and this actually looked like something that I might be able to do. So I sat down and did two things. I decided to divide the book into volumes, and I then sketched out what content would roughly be in each volume. I also finished up the manuscript for one of the volumes, the volume that I felt was most critical to get published (lest something happen to me before every volume would be finished). That’s where we’re at now.

I have a series of nine Famicom books planned, and if I decide to take a look at official, Japanese products, I might extend the series out to around fourteen or fifteen books in the future. Either way, two volumes are currently available, with a third volume to be released sometime in June.

Family Bits I

This book details essentially all of the original, unauthorized Famicom games that were developed in Taiwan, ranging from earlier companies like Bit Corp to later ones such as Hummer Team. Sachen’s works are also in here, as well as some advertisements for the old games.

While available in both hardcover and paperback version, I’ve heard that the paper quality for the paperback version is not the best, so I’d recommend the hardcover one.

Purchase Family Bits (Volume I) Here

Family Bits III

The third installment of Family Bits takes a look at many old, common multicarts from the eighties and nineties, with lists of the game content, common hacks found on the cartridges, etc.

It would be impossible to list every multicart ever created, so we’ve just taken a look at several hundred cartridges. Volume IV will examine newer multicarts, and will be released around December.

Purchase Family Bits (Volume 3) Here

Retail Shops, Copy Carts

With some stories we need to examine the veg before we can discuss the true meat and potatoes, and this is one of those tales. The device pictured here is from Baring, and it is known as Paradise. Although I’ve had one for years, it wasn’t until the past year or two that people have begun obsessing over this particular device from Baring.

Paradise device with a game cassette inserted

The Paradise device sits right on top of a Famicom or Famiclone, quite similar to how the Famicom Disk System RAM adaptor would connect to a Famicom. The Paradise device even looks quite like a Famicom Disk System RAM adaptor in shape and size, though Baring’s device has a cartridge slot in the center, as well as a button allowing one to “set the side”.

Eternity Golden Game from Baring. I’ve yet been able to get this to load up.

Cutting to the chase, Baring had produced their own special game cartridges, which look quite like Famicom cartridges in shape and size. These cartridges are (re?)writeable in nature, and will only run on Famicom machines if they have the Paradise adaptor attached. The Baring cartridges are quite hard to find, so I cannot make a proper assessment as to the range of games available on these special Paradise cartridges; however, the cassettes that I have feature Bubble Bobble and Zelda II: The Adventures of Link. This in conjunction with the red button to “set the side” suggests that one purpose of this device was to allow gamers to play disk-based games on physical cartridges. Companies such as Kaiser and Whirlwind Manu would also address this issue, by converting the disk games to cassettes.

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A few months back I had been contacted by a notorious local reseller, who I happen to know in person. Whether I agree with his practices or methods, I must give the guy credit, as he has turned up a lot of amazing items over the past year or so that we’ve been connected. Anyways, this time I was sent a few pictures of a device from Baring, which had contained two cartridge slots. Earlier in the night my acquaintence and I had a bit of a row over his insane prices, so I just looked at the pictures, and left it at that, without responding.

Moments later, a message popped up from my acquaintence, “I thought you like this sort of thing. It’s Baring, only one in Taiwan, don’t you collect? Even the other collectors don’t know it!”

Copy device set up with a game cartridge and a Paradise cartridge

“That’s cool,” I answered, and I let it at that. I still wasn’t convinced that I needed this in my collection, until the guy started blabbing again. It was then that he mentioned that he got this from a shopkeeper, and that the unit was used to copy game cartridges back in the late eighties or early nineties. “The shopkeeper would charge customers about 200 yuan per game, and he paid 20,000 yuan for the device,” the reseller would say. “This sort of thing wasn’t available to the general public.” What was just moments earlier a random, likely overpriced oddity suddenly had significant historical value, color me interested.

I opened up with an offer of $300, he countered with a price of $1200, American money of course. Yeah, that wasn’t going to work. So after a few months of negotiating and trying to strong-arm the other, we ended up meeting in person to conclude a different sale. It was then that we ended up negotiating a deal, on a whim, which was much closer to my price than his counter offer.

When it comes to this sort of item, one needs to take it with a grain of salt. The seller kept stating how it was the only one in existence, and I’ve been around long enough to know that this honestly isn’t likely to be the case; however, I do believe that the piece is quite unique, and I discovered some things that do help back up the seller’s stories.

The top of the Baring copy device has two handwritten labels on it, one over each cartridge slot. The left one reads “40K, every cartridge” whereas the slot on the right reads “Little Paradise”, which is presumably the slot where the special copy cartridge sits. Turning the machine over, we see the Baring sticker on the bottom, yet the real curiosities are discovered after opening the unit up.

Baring company sticker on the bottom

Inside the black case is a large circuit board. Two red Paradise cases have been canabalized, the remains then covering most of the special PCB. In terms of function though, I have no idea what, if anything, has been shared between this copy device and the Paradise one-slot devices used by the gamers. Either way, such a construction as this honestly doesn’t look like something that would have been available to the general public, since the inner casing basically looks hacked together.

Baring’s copy device

With that being said, I haven’t actually dared trying to power this on to write a game cartridge. I am not even sure if I have things set up properly, and similarly, I do not know what the correct power supply would be for this item. Despite all that, I think this is a really unique piece, and the possibility that this was actually used back in the day by a shopkeeper to copy cartridges is nothing short of extraordinary.

Baby I Swear, I’m Just Heading to the Love Motel to Play Sachen Games!

My journey with the so-called Sachen Box started about a month ago, as I was doing some research online late one night. Just as I was about ready to call it quits for the night, I noticed an old Japanese gaming device listed for sale. I wasn’t sure what the thing was, so I decided to take a closer look, and it was then that I saw the Sachen name printed on the sole controller. This piqued my interest, so I sent a message to the owner. After waiting around for about half an hour in hopes of a response, I then decided to call it a night, still thinking about the machine.

While in bed, I laid awake, wondering what could possibly be on that machine. The owner said that it had Famicom games built into it, and that the Sachen Box had been used at a hotel / hotspring resort in Japan. For the uninitiated, I’d like to share a little story about the culture over here, which I think can safely be applied to Japan as well.

Every weekend my mates and I go out cycling, and to get out of the city, we often need to go through a dumpy little town known as Caotun. Aside from a few local delicacies, Caotun has nothing at all going for it, yet on Sunday mornings at 7:30 there is always a huge influx of traffic heading there. Odder still, most of these cars are luxury Euro cars. The intentions soon become clear though, by the wide variety of love motels and shady massage parlors scattered around the perimeter of the little town. Esentially, the wife goes over to help out at Grandma’s for the morning, and so Daddy takes the mistress out for a little fun, before Mommy returns. Dare I say more? For reference below, inside one of the lovely motel rooms in Caotun. So much fun to be had there!

Sachen definitely targeted this sort of demographic back in the day. A large portion of the games they had developed were mahjong or gambling games, and frequently naked women would appear as a reward for winning. Mahjong games, paper/scissors/stone, and even the classic slide puzzle were all guilty of this. It was definitely a part of Sachen, and at some point, they decided to enter into a partnership with Hacker International of Japan, to have some of their dirty games published abroad.

To me, the hotsprings resort usage and their relationship with Hacker International made me feel almost certain that there might be something very valuable or interesting built into this machine. Maybe some unique and undocumented Sachen material was to be found, or even an early version of one of the games that Sachen initially developed, which would later be published by Hacker. Maybe there was some sort of game that was halfway between the Sachen and Hacker versions? As my mind raced ahead in thought, I even started to wonder if there could be some unreleased material built into the machine. Journey to the West? Bridge? But at mid three figures, during a virus pandemic, I just felt quite tight when it came to the desire of splashing the cash.

That’s where OptOut and Pa Cui Ke come into play. These guys have known me for quite some time, and after showing pictures of the machine in question, OptOut (he’s cheap bastard, sorry mate, but it’s true) and Pa Cui Ke both told me to grab it, immediately. Leading up to asking them for their thoughts, I had asked the seller for pictures of the games, and she said that she’d oblige, but only on Sunday, and it was only Wednesday or Thursday at this point.

At this point, I was feeling quite torn as to what I should do. I felt the Sachen Box was special, but again, there was the whole money and virus situation. Pa Cui Ke offered to lend me the money if need be, and just the kindness and dedication he showed in that moment made me realize that I definitely should pick this thing up. Then it was time to negotiate the sale with the seller.

I messaged the seller and offered her a price of $100 less than what she was asking, though I told her that I’d transfer the money immediately. She promptly declined. She said that there was another guy that had messaged her, who would personally head down to southern Taiwan, coronavirus be damned, on Saturday to inspect the item and then purchase it then and there, for her asking price. I felt like Family Guy’s Quagmire when he had to decide whether to purchase the real estate at Prescott Towers or not. I bit hook, line, and sinker, and the box was mine.

The next week, I started obsessivly checking my P.O. box. I expected to get the machine on Monday, but it wasn’t there. I then received a message from the seller telling me that she refused to ship to a P.O. Box, so I had to get the Sachen Box shipped to my work. Great. All the secretaries were quite interested as to what I had bought, until I started telling them that it was an old game machine from a love motel.

Later that day I carried the machine home for about a mile. I plugged it in, hooked it up to my television, and bam! Nothing. The mechanics seemed to work, but I couldn’t get any image to appear. This went on for quite some time as I tried all the RF adaptors I had. Then I consulted with the seller about how to hook the machine up, yet I still couldn’t get any image from the thing. Chatting with another expat helped me get the TV set to the proper channel, but no dice, no image. And then my TV crapped out on me.

That Thursday I went to the largest secondhand television shop in the city, to try to source myself another CRT television. When I arrived, I was basically laughed out of the shop though ironically enough, I had purchased my old CRT television from there, just a few years prior. I then took to social media and asked a local Facebook group if anyone knew where I could get a CRT television, or could get one repaired via a housecall. A very kind expat, Arielle, said she just happened to have a CRT TV that she wished to get rid of, for free, so I was in luck. Neither of us have a car though, so setting up the logistics seemed to be yet another problem.

I asked Arielle for the weight of her TV, as well as her address in the city. She only lived about a mile away, and since the TV clocked in at about 50 pounds, I decided I’d just pick it up and lug the thing back to my apartment. So that Friday, I walked to her apartment after work, and I carried a 50-pound fat TV back to my apartment, during rush hour, in broad daylight. One mile. By the time I finally arrived at my place, I felt so sore, from the lopsided weight of the TV, the sharp corners plunging into my skin, and the heat. The sour icing on the shit cake was when the guy running the shop next to mine asked, “Oh, I see you bought a new TV, eh?” I felt really foolish over the whole thing, though it’s one of those situations like trying to explain to folks why you buy records, instead of just streaming music.

With the new TV in place, I hooked up the Sachen Box once again, yet I still ran into the same problems of not getting any picture. After my initial bout of this, several weeks earlier, I had started trying to disassemble the box, figuring that if there was a loose connection or another problem, it could possibly be repaired. Let’s discuss the disassembly process for a bit now.

Initially, I unscrewed the outside screws on the Sachen Box, and tried to remove the metal casing. At first it started to slide open, similar to how a PC’s case would open; however, after opening about two or three centimeters, the thing refused to budge. Looking inside the machine I noticed that there was a post in the center of the Sachen Box that connected directly to the outer metal piece. The post was connected in such a fashion that it was preventing the whole thing from being opened. I then undid a few more screws, but they just unscrewed the RF port in the back and the Famicom cartridge slot. The bottom of the box had a few more tiny holes, which could possibly be tiny screws, though if they actually were screwed then they were stripped beyond belief. But as Pa Cui Ke told me, “This was designed and assembled by humans. Since it was assembled, it can also be disassembled.”

The key to unlocking the Sachen Box seemed to be, literally, a set of three locks situated on the front of the machine. Pa Cui Ke sent me a few videos on how to pick tubular locks, and although the process seemed simple enough, I didn’t have any of the proper equiptment to turn it into a reality. I decided to do the next best thing though, and hauled the Sachen machine down the street to the nearest locksmith, one day after work.

The shopkeeper looked at the locks and he said to me, “I don’t have the equiptment to make you a key for this.” I told him that I just wanted the locks opened, and $10 later, the largest lock was opened. It was to the tray that held the 100 Yen coins. By opening that drawer, one could also see a counter that showed how many times a coin had been inserted into the machine. On my particular Sachen box, the counter was just shy of 1500 uses. I guess most people would rather get laid than play Sachen video games, if given the choice?

The two smaller locks couldn’t be opened, though. The locksmith said he didn’t have the right tools for those, and also stated that the small size was rare, something not normally seen in Taiwan. Once again I hit a roadblock. I left the matter boil in my brain for a few days, and then the next Monday I took the machine to another locksmith. Although the shop was a bit more rundown than the first shop, the owner searched through his drawers before he found a key to open the other two locks. He then showed me how to use the key, and gave it to me gratis, saying that I probably needed the old key more than he did!

When I got home and hooked the Sachen Box up again, I discovered that the other two locks were actually switches to control which aspects of the machine would be functional. One of the locks could shut off the gaming portion of the machine, and I am making an assumption that the timer for the “free game” demo could also be shut off.

Although this was nice, once again I was at a standstill. There were no more screws to be undone, the machine wouldn’t function, and I couldn’t get the thing opened. That was until today. While purchasing some electrical tape over my lunch break, it dawned on me that if I could open up the box just enough to slip my hand inside, I could retrieve the Famicom pcb sticking in the cartridge slot, plug it into one of my Famiclones, and then see what software was included with the machine. It was a done deal, I decided to just go for it!

For the rest of the afternoon, I was in a great mood at work. Sachen, Sachen, Saaaaacccchhhheeeen! I grabbed a few beers on the way home from work, and after cracking one of those open, I started to massage the Sachen Box down, preparing to violate it. I then managed to crack it open enough to stick my hand in and retrieve the game PCB. I plugged it into one of my Famiclones and… NOTHING! I then cleaned the contacts, and tried again. What I saw shocked, me, yet it also made me burst out laughing.

As it turned out, the game installed in this Sachen Box wasn’t an unreleased game, nor was it a Sachen pornon game. People weren’t playing on this machine while trying to get in the mood for some hanky panky. As it turns out, the PCB was for one of the most common Famicom multicarts of all time, a generic 64 in 1 game cartridge! Super Mario Bros., Battle City, Lode Runner, and all of the classics. They were all there!

Ultimately, I probably felt someone the same as Quagmire did when he actually visited the real estate that he bought, ultimately disappointed in the actuality of it; however, I guess Sachen realized that in a very casual setting, people might want to play some video games while in a love motel, and that their own games just wouldn’t cut it! I’ve been to a few motels in Taiwan with Xbox games, and I even tried them out with the people I was with, so when looking at it from that viewpoint, I guess it’s not so hard to understand Sachen’s decision on this one.

Either way though, the Sachen Box is boss – I still haven’t figured out how to open the thing up completely, which showcases how robust the machine actually is. For anyone else that wants to track down one of these, good luck – definitely 10000x rarer and cooler than an actual Famicom Box.

Progression of Ending Man Clone Machines

Woah! Stop the press! Is this really an update to fcgamer’s blog?! Yup, it sure is. The fact of the matter is, I’ve been away too long. Thanks goes out to FAMICOM_87 of the Famicom World forums for inspiring this one.

Everything started a few days earlier, when I had posted a listing on Famicom World for some Famiclone machines that I was selling. Some of the members had noticed that one of the machines, an Ending Man S-500 Famiclone, had nickel batteries tucked inside it. I had noticed this as well and thought it to be a bit odd, but I am not keen on messing with things about which I am uninformed, so I left them sit until other members suggested I remove the batteries.

This dialogue had led FAMICOM_87 commenting how he was surprised that my Ending Machine was a chips-based machine, and therein lies why I am writing this post. Likewise, I am not scholarly enough to check out the whole line of Ending Man clones from past until present; therefore, I will focus on the models that I personally own.

The earliest model Ending Man machine I own is model S-200. Not particularly interesting, this is a chips-based machine, which of similar design to real Famicom machines. One of the major differences though is that the machine is gray, in color. Because I purchased this machine used, I am not sure if the multicart was included originally or not, though it was there when I received the machine. I tried to open up the machine to take photos, but one of the screws was too tight, and worried about stripping it, I stopped while I was ahead. The S-200 model is just a minor pit stop in the Ending Man series, anyways.

I reckon that Ending Man’s S-500 line of Famiclones was the most popular, judging by the number of S-500 machines I’ve found compared to other Ending Man products. This particular product is also the unit that marks a distinctive change in the Ending Man product line; it underwent several small changes, before ushering in a new line of NOAC-based Famiclones.

My earliest S-500 Ending Man machine dates to 1990, around the 38^th week of the year, if the chips are to be believed. On the outer shell, the machine is referred to as “The World’s Most Popular Video Game System”. The information describing the holes on the back of the machine is contained within a white rectangle. The buttons on this machine are a bluish-purple color, and the sticker on the back is white. In addition, there is a black piece of plastic “protecting” the game cartridge slot. While there may be earlier machines than this one, machines with these properties is where I will start the discussion.

The next Ending Man clone in my collection looks the same from the outside. Blue buttons, the same gibberish about being popular worldwide, etc; however, if one turns the machine around, he or she will notice that the indicator stating where the power adapter and audio / video inputs belong, has been changed. The sharp corners have been rounded, and the font has been changed. The chips on this machine date to 1990 and also 1991.

The third machine looks virtually the same as the second machine, though the sticker on the back has changed from white to black! The chips here date upwards to the 42^nd week of 1991, one of the later machines manufactured that year.

By the time we reach the fourth Ending Man S-500 machine, cosmetic differences become more apparent. The slogan running on the top of the machine has been shortened: instead of reading “The World’s Most Popular Video Game System”, it has been changed to the uninspiring “Computer Video Game”. The Ending Man text and logo have also been shifted down on the machine front, and the S-500 model number has been relocated as well. This is the notorious machine that had contained the batteries – it dates to 1992. Another difference is that by now, the buttons on the machine are now yellow.

Moving onward, the next machine in my possession is an Ending Man S-500A; it is precisely at this point, where I believe Ending Man had switched from using discrete chips to a NOAC-based product. From its appearance, this model looks quite similar to the previous Ending Man machine, though instead of the “Computer Video Game” and Ending Man logos being printed directly onto the machine, they are molded into the plastic. The sticker on the back of the machine is now a round circle bearing the company’s name, and the machine itself is a NOAC machine.

Interestingly enough, Tiger would base their TG-2002 machine off of the S-500A Ending Man model; under the hood, these two machines seem to be the same.

The latest Ending Man machine I personally own is the S-600 model. It looks like they tried to add a sensor onto the cartridge ejection button, and the logo and model number placement have been readjusted, putting them back to the same position as the original Ending Man S-500 machines. The slogan still reads “Computer Video Game”, and this time the back sticker is incredibly generic, housing only a serial number and the word Kenga, suggesting that this particular machine was part of the Ending Man set of clones branded and released under the Kid Ken brand. Inside, this machine is also NOAC-based, with the PCB listing it as S-500TA.

Although I am sure there are more Ending Man machines in circulation, I hope that this list of models / small tweaks can show everyone how this clone company had continuously adjusted their S-500 product, over the short duration of a few years, before advancing to a NOAC-based clone.

Hiryuu no Ken Game Bundle

For the past several months, collectors and gamers alike have been going crazy about Nintendo’s recent release of the NES Classic and Famicom Mini, cutesy plug ‘n play machines shaped as smaller versions of the gaming consoles we hold dear to our hearts. Back when the releases were announced, I had heard that these were being done to celebrate the 30^th year anniversary of the NES, but the dates don’t totally match up, so who knows, maybe I am just having a dumb moment. Either way, I discovered a neat little bundle a few weeks ago, and I wanted to share it with everyone. Since I don’t read much Japanese, maybe my search queries are just atrocious, though I prefer to think that the item I am about to unveil is just really obscure.

The Hiryuu no Ken (Fist of the Flying Dragon) game series first appeared on the scene in 1985, lining arcades in Japan and North America. The franchise would continue to find success on a number of different gaming platforms, finishing up with a Japanese-exclusive release on Game Boy Color, Hiryuu no Ken Retsuden GB. This chapter of the series would appear right before Christmas of 2000.

Recently I had been surfing the net and I stumbled upon the following:

Hiryuu no Ken Retsuden Box Set?

Note the words “20^th Anniversary” in the corner of the box. At first blush, it seemed as though this was a special commemorative package that would pair the Hiryuu no Ken Retsuden game with part three of the Famicom series, 5 Nin no Ryuu Senshi. What 20^th anniversary would have been celebrated though? That of the game franchise, or perhaps the original release of Hiryuu no Ken III? Also, could such an awesome feat as Culture Brain making their Famicom game available for purchase so late after its release be real? The more I thought about the package, the more questions I had, and finally curiosity got the best of me. By then, it was just a matter of waiting for the package to arrive, so that I could examine things for myself.

When things finally did arrive, I decided to take a peak at the rear of the box before cracking it open.

Do Other Bundles Also Exist?

The back of the box shows some pictures from the Hiryuu no Ken Retsuden game, as well as what appears to be some advertisements for some other games. I also found a copyright date of 2000 on the box, but it seems that this is just linked to the GBC game, rather than the release date of the bundle.

Like Two Peas In A Pod…

Peering in from the top, we can see boxed copies of both Hiryuu no Ken Retsuden and Hiryuu no Ken III: 5 Nin no Ryuu Senshi, two peas in a pod, sitting happily together. And time for a shot of the two games outside of the bundle packaging:

Famicom And Game Boy Pieces

Sadly, it seems that both games are just normal retail versions – there doesn’t seem to be anything marking them as belonging to this 20^th Anniversary package. I’ve seen cases of Hiryuu no Ken III floating around for sale before, so my best guess is that Culture Brain still has (had?) a nice amount of unsold stock, and decided to bundle it with unsold product from their GBC release, as a way of moving some old inventory. With a significant anniversary coming up by 2005, it seems like this would have been the perfect way of clearing out the extras. This is all speculation though, so if anyone has some concrete information about this release, please get in touch with me!

Confessions of a Bootlegger

Five

You see that binder over there? Yeah, it doesn’t look like much. To you, it might just look like a bunch of magazine pages tossed together in a three-ring, wrinkled by time, with numbers scribbled across page after page. Here and there, a note finds space on an otherwise-filled page. Yeah, garbage to most, yet this is one of my treasures, let’s call him “Five”.

Five doesn’t belong in our world today; he’s too old fashioned, and not handsome enough to compete with those X Box and PS guys. He was a 16-bit stud in his day though, and has seen a lot through the ages, before retiring to a dusty shelve in the residential corners of an old shop in Taiwan.

If we run past the narrow road filled with the strange aroma of exhaust fumes mixed with food from roadside vendors, we will come to the remains of an old game shop of long ago. Five’s companions have disappeared in ages gone by, to make room for gaming modernity. But even that has fallen to the wayside, as smart phones edged their way into the scene.

When you go to the counter, ask for old man Wang, and he’ll tell you a thing or too. Business is slow, conversation is great, but only if you can speak the local tongue. Mr. Wang is standing behind a glass counter, once-filled with treasures. Now, nothing occupies this real estate, aside from a couple of dusty PS3 boxes. Peering behind Mr. Wang is an ancient computer, two floppy drives sticking from it’s tower. A fat monitor sits next to it, covered in grime. Curious, I inquire.

“Oh that thing,” asks Wang, pointing to the computer. “Let me show you something, I’ll give you a look.” Wang disappears for a few moments, mentions hitting the bathroom as well before returning. “Be patient for five minutes”, he tells me. When he reemerges, Wang is carrying Five under his arm and throws it on his counter. “This”, he tells me, “goes along with that”, and I settle down for a story.

“Back in the early 90s, Super Famicom was starting to become popular over here. People also had Sega Mega Drives, but it was not the popular brand. Compared to Super Famicom, everyone felt that there were less games to choose from, and besides, the people’s favorite was always Mario, not Sonic.” Wang stated my exact feelings. In my household, Nintendo was also the fan favorite. Growing up, I knew few people with Segas.

Wang continued, “All of the Super Famicom games, you can see them in Five. It’s a catalog of sorts. Copied games were the norm here, and for good reason. A single cartridge would cost $1000 (local money), but we could get that cost down to $100. Here’s what we’d do.”

Homemade Index Page with Game Titles and Numbers

At this point, Mr. Wang reached under the counter and pulled out a dusty Super Nintendo machine, nearly jet black in dirt and grime. Attached was a game copier. And without loading up the computer, he prepared to demonstrate what he did.

“$10,000”, he chuckled. “That’s what this thing cost. Throw in the SNES and that was another $3000, $13000 total. Sega also had copiers, same price. But with less games came less popularity. So I bought a copier, and copied the games onto that old machine over there. Kids and teenagers would come in, pay me $100, and within minutes they’d walk out with a brand new Super Nintendo game, all on one disk. If in the same situation, if you could buy one cartridge or ten floppies for the same price, which would you choose?”

I smiled and nodded, as the answer was clear to me.

More Games One Could Select

His setup was basically like the Nintendo’s Famicom Disk Writer machine, only it consisted of a generic computer, Taiwan-produced copiers, and standard floppy disks. And the link between consumer and the copies was Five, the beat-up magazine pages stuffed inside the binder. Presumably the numbers aided in locating the game file on the computer, to make copies.

Game 844, 32 M

With my treasure in hand, I thanked Mr. Wang and climbed back into the saddle, prepared for the long journey back home. As the wind whipped through my hair as I rode down city streets and over bridges on that cloudless night, I couldn’t help but turn over the things I had heard minutes earlier – a shopkeeper proudly explaining the dynamics of selling in a country uninhibited by copyright law. And to have a token of that moment, a folder that had witnessed thousands of copies being made in a bygone era, priceless. A true piece of history. As always, the best things in life are free.

The Ultimate Famicom Software Guide v. 2.0

Hi guys, finally I’m back  🙂  My life had been filled with darkness for the past several months, but finally the sun has come out again.  I am quite excited to post some new material on FC Game Land in the next few weeks, as I have a lot of obscure and interesting material to post!

Today though, I would like to present everyone with a small update, namely The Ultimate Famicom Software Guide v. 2.0.  This release has been in the making for quite some time.  After the launch of my first release, I noticed some large mistakes in the guide, such as somehow missing Final Fantasy II.  Furthermore, I added another 50+ additions to the list, including some educational carts, unlicensed releases, NES exclusives, etc.

Challenging Chinese Kung Fu Dragons: The Color Dreams Game That Could Have Been

The blurred lines and murky relationships between Joy Van and Sachen, Color Dreams and Sachen, and many of the other independent developers from the golden era of gaming have always been interesting to me. At that time, it seemed as though every unlicensed developer or publisher was sleeping with every other company of a similar background; Share Data games have been found in Color Dreams shells, Wisdom Tree development copies have been found on Tengen boards. And prototypes from the Taiwanese developers have turned up stateside. That’s the origin of the Chinese Kung Fu prototype that is now in my possession.

Another collector had purchased a bunch of scrap items from Wisdom Tree, the religious company that Color Dreams had eventually become. Among those items was a Sachen pcb containing the aforementioned game. I saw the item come up for grabs, and I immediately messaged the owner to inquire about the provenance of the item. When it comes to purchasing items such as prototypes and other rarities, the origins of the item are king. After learning about the history of the cartridge, I felt confident enough in the legitimacy of the item to make the purchase. At that point, all that was left was a few weeks of agony before I could check out the cartridge firsthand. There are several interesting things to note about the game, but first we need to take a trip back in time to around 1988.

The video game behemoth first stepped on the scene in 1988, according to their former website. By November of that year, Thin Chen Enterprise would begin advertising for their first Famicom release, Jovial Race, and it would see the light of day early the next year. Jovial Race would be the first of Thin Chen’s TC series of unlicensed Famicom / Nintendo games. Hidden Chinese Chess would appear next, followed by Sidewinder, Little Red Hood, and several other titles. Business would continue as usual, all the way through TC-010, Mahjong Trap. After this title, things at Thin Chen Enterprise would be shaken up a bit, and it would be the start of Sachen’s legacy.

The original ten Thin Chen games (TC-001 through TC-010) were all credited to a company known as Joy Van. The company’s distinctive JV logo could be spotted on the game’s original packaging, and the copyrights were always to Joy Van. The name on the back of the box, however, would be various spellings of “Thin Chen Enterprise”. TC-011, Chinese Kung Fu, would be the next in the Thin Chen series of games. Like its predecessors, this game also had a Joy Van logo on the box, but unlike the others, the code appearing within would be a bit different.

When one loads up the original versions of Chinese Kung Fu, he or she is greeted by the following words: Sachen ©1989 Copy Right. It is precisely with this game where Joy Van disappears from the scene forever; every future release is credited to either Sachen or Thin Chen Enterprise. If you can manage to make it to the end of Chinese Kung Fu, you will see that a Joy Van logo will appear on the credits screen. So what happened to Joy Van?

A friend of mine, MLX, had the following information to share, which he had obtained from someone close to the company: “Joyvan and Sachen merged and the boss of Joyvan created Idea-Tek.” Although this information is undoubtedly correct, I personally feel that the situation may have been more complicated than that.

For instance, Thin Chen Enterprise and Sachen have been synonyms for each other since the formation of the company, yet the Sachen name only makes an English appearance after Joy Van leaves the scene, and this is on both packaging and in-game logos / copyrights. Strangely enough, it was only after the merger that Thin Chen acquired a second location. Starting with TC-012 (The World of Card Games), two addresses are listed on the back of the Thin Chen game boxes, namely one for development and the other for manufacturing. The timing of these changes could have been coincidental, but they are still worth mentioning. Perhaps the most intriguing thing concerning the Thin Chen / Joy Van circumstances is the following: sometime during the 90s, Micro Genius (another game developer / publisher) acquired the rights to and published several of Idea-Tek’s original games. It makes me wonder if the so-called Joy Van / Thin Chen merger was more comparable to the Idea-Tek / Micro Genius situation, where the rights to JV’s catalog of software was just sold to Thin Chen. Who knows, maybe the Joy Van company was little more than a small development team that got purchased in a buyout.

Either way, the merger seems to have occurred around the middle of August of ’89, shortly before Chinese Kung Fu was released. The boxes were already designed and printed, and but the program itself would be modified, with Joy Van logos removed and Sachen information inserted. The game would then appear on shelves, sitting awkwardly as the one mismatched game in a sea of uniformity. That basically brings our Joy Van / Thin Chen / Sachen story to a close, for now. But Chinese Kung Fu has its own interesting quirks, which are worth mentioning as well.

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I cannot say it in any other way than this: not all versions of Chinese Kung Fu are created equal. Going against what was previously thought, the original version of the game mimics the Double Dragon series quite nicely, with the champion being able to make use of a flying side kick, among other fighting moves. This feature was edited out of the 1989 Sachen version of the game, and it was replaced with a simple jump. When Chinese Kung Fu was distributed by Spica in Australia and New Zealand, the guys and Thin Chen decided to wise up and re-implement the flying side kick, using the original version of the game, and leaving the horrid Taiwanese release back on the island. This version of the game has a 1990 copyright. It is also worth mentioning that there have been some rumors circulating around that the side kick is just an exclusivity for the later versions of the game; this is a wrong assumption, however, as screenshots from the earliest advertisements all depict the main character using this move.

Advertisement Photograph – Note the Flying Side Kick and Item Bar

At some point, Thin Chen would also shop this title around for publication in Western markets, and they had offered Color Dreams the chance to publish the game in America. For whatever the reason, Color Dreams declined, and the game never made it to Western markets on 72 pin Nintendo format outside of the limited quantities of carts that Thin Chen themselves were able to distribute through unorthodox channels. For this market, the game also underwent a name change, as Challenge of the Dragon. And for those who are wondering, this version of the game also included the original game code, giving our protagonist the use of the important flying kick.

Advertisement Photograph – Note the Flying Side Kick and Item Bar

But wait!!! Wasn’t there a Challenge of the Dragon game released in America on Nintendo?!? There sure was, but it wasn’t the Thin Chen game. Color Dreams developed that game in-house and published it. Although the two games are of a similar style and share the same name, they are totally different products. So which Challenge of the Dragon came first? Both versions were released in 1990 so it’s hard to say. I tried reaching out to the programmer of the Color Dreams game to ask about the origins of the game’s name, but sadly I never heard back. As with this game title, there was some other borrowing going on between Thin Chen and Color Dreams. Thin Chen published a game titled Raid (published in America by Color Dreams as Silent Assault) and Color Dreams developed a game in-house titled Raid 2020. Again, both games could be classified as being similar, yet they are both totally different products. Thin Chen’s changing of Chinese Kung Fu to Challenge of the Dragon most likely was to help aid in sales on Western shores. Knowing that Thin Chen / Joy Van had brought the game to the attention of Color Dreams, it seems quite possible that Color Dreams may have even considered publishing the game themselves. Looking at it from this perspective, it’s fair to say that Chinese Kung Fu could be viewed sort of as a “lost” Color Dreams game.

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When it comes to Chinese Kung Fu, I am terrible at the game. I played through all of the Double Dragon games as a child and although this one feels like a direct sequel to those games, the difficulty has been increased. So when it comes to making comparisons and searching for differences between the prototype that is in my possession and the retail version of the game, it will be an on-going process. I have made a few interesting discoveries though.

To begin, my prototype is an elusive Joy Van version of the game. The title screen still has the Joy Van logo and copyright, showing that the game was most definitely supposed to be part of the Joy Van series before the so-called merger took place. In addition, when you head to the game itself, there is a major difference that I have noticed. All of the weapons seem to be available from the start. By pressing start and then select, you can change the item in the box, and cycle through about five different items. Excluding the heart, each item has a power bar, which I presume is meant to decrease as the item is used.

Chinese Kung Fu Prototype – Notice the Joy Van Copyrights

This setup may not be fully implemented in my copy of the game though, as I can’t figure out how to “use” the items even after selecting them. I’ve watched a few videos of folks playing through the game online, but in those versions of the game, the special items seem to be displayed elsewhere, and the weapon display in the Joy Van game is MIA. Maybe this is just an unfinished feature in the prototype, or perhaps it is also a retail game thing that no one really knows about. Due to the obscurity of the game itself, it is not something that is easy to determine for certain, though a similar system also appears in some old advertisement photos.

Chinese Kung Fu Prototype

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Despite its flaws, Chinese Kung Fu is one of the better Thin Chen games. When one overlooks the difficulty problem, the game can be seen as a nice sequel to Double Dragon. The music is mediocre at best, but the graphics are beautifully drawn, presenting one with a Chinese-style Double Dragon game.

In addition, the game sits at the crossroads in the history of Joy Van, Thin Chen, and Sachen. It also represents a product that could have been part of unlicensed canon in the United States, but was never meant to be for unknown reasons. Rich in history, revisions, and mediocre gameplay, Chinese Kung Fu would make it on my list of Thin Chen games worth checking out.

Game Genie – Unlock the Power! (A Disorganized Writing)

Sometimes I feel as though collecting for Famicom can be an odd beast, some sort of mythological bird that slips through your grasp time and time again. On the Nintendo side of things, we take a lot for granted, namely the ease at which games are sorted and lists are compiled. There are NTSC games, mostly surfacing in North America, and PAL games. Although there are a few PAL exclusives as well as many which are available in NA only, the mileage covered and countries counted is not so great. And that is what makes Famicom collecting so weird.

On Famicom, the “canon” titles were all released in Japan. Some of those titles were then exported to other Asian countries, but they are still part of the “core” collection. But then Taiwan, Hong Kong, and possibly other countries received some official licensed variants that never made it to Japan. And when it came to unlicensed games…Korea had it’s own set of exclusives, as did Russia, Taiwan, China, and so on. It is no longer a two-continent battle; the availability of Famicom titles varied drastically by region, with the scope and range being much broader than anything on the 72 pins side. Enter, Game Genie.

I honestly believe that aside from the most hardcore of the bunch, most collectors and gamers reading this page will shit themselves when they learn that the infamous Game Genie cheat device swam around in Famicom waters, as well as the Nintendo ones. Everyone can recall the notoriety surrounding Codemaster’s Game Genie: there was the lawsuit from Nintendo, the delayed release times in the United States, and the antagonistic “Thank You Canada!” adverts plastered throughout Canadian media, receiving none of Nintendo’s oppression in the great country up north. And as we all know, after a long and tireless fight, Galoob would eventually market the Game Genie in the States, every kid could finally discover what was on the other side of the flagpole in Super Mario Bros., and life would be complete. But the Game Genie was not finished with its journey – there was still one last adventure for it, and it was the 60 pins ride.

Game Genie on Famicom

You see, Codemasters has an intimate relationship with Asia…at least their unlicensed works do. As many might recall, childhood Codemasters favorites such as Micro Machines and Dizzy would make an appearance on the Nintendo, though those games would be somewhat “special”. Instead of appearing in gray game cartridges, these titles found themselves locked inside magical gold or silver cartridges, complete with a special switch on the back. For the European market, the cartridge design was even funkier, and the programmes were housed in Game Genie-esque carts. Yes, I used the British spelling since we are referencing a company hailing from the UK 🙂 Simply put, these carts were unlicensed, released without Nintendo’s approval.

What does this have to do with Asia? To sum things up simply, Taiwan and Hong Kong were the go-to places for unlicensed game companies, when it came to accessing a healthy supply of IC chips and PCBs. As such, the Camerica-published (and Codemasters developed) Nintendo games all contain PCBs manufactured from the aforementioned region.

Even more interesting, though, is the fact that the same manufacturer (BIC, and later Realtec) had also purchased the rights to the whole line of Codemasters’ Nintendo software. As such, Micro Machines was released on Famicom, as well as Fantastic Adventures of Dizzy, Ultimate Stuntman, and other fan favorites. In fact, some of the Nintendo multicart-exclusive Codemasters titles were released on Famicom in single cart packages. The largest area of distribution seems to have been Poland, with the basic Pegasus package containing a 5 in 1 cartridge of Codemasters goodness.

The artwork on these Famicom Codemasters games can be a bit quirky, and thus they seem to be unofficial products; however, they were all licensed by Codemasters themselves. In my own personal opinion though, these Famicom version are much harder to track down than their 72 pin cousins.

Realizing that Codemasters had an enterprising business running in Asia, it comes as no surprise that their Game Genie cheat device would also make an appearance on the 60 pin format; however, this device is much rarer than it’s 72 pin relative.

One of mis amigos, Danilo, helped me to obtain one of these Famicom Game Genies for my collection – I love you bro, and hope I can help you out as well! Since the Game Genie I possess traveled from Argentina to Taiwan, making a brief pit stop in Chile, I am unsure how this compares to locally-distributed versions, but alas I will talk about what I have as well as what I know.

Game Genie was heavily promoted in Taiwan, judging by the adverts and reviews in gaming magazines of the time. Both Famicom and Sega versions made it to Asian shores, though I have never seen any mention or evidence of Game Boy or Super Famicom Game Genies existing. Likewise, although Game Genie was heavily promoted in these parts, I’ve never seen one for sale, outside of South America. Take it for what it’s worth.

The Game Genie I possess comes in a box quite similar to that of it’s 72 pins brethren; English is prevalent up and down the box, as well as French (perhaps this is the remnant of Game Genie’s Canadian launch?). The box just seems to be a 90s “photoshop” edit of the original, with Camerica replaced with Realtec. In addition, a code book is included, though of course it is the generic Camerica version. This is not all too surprising, considering the fact that some of the BIC / Realtec Famicom releases contained Camerica-version boxes and instruction manuals. The reuse of materials is appalling, to be quite frank about it.

On a more interesting note, the package also included a second code book containing cheats for games off of a 76 in 1 multicart. I am quite curious, will these codes work on the original versions of the games? Or will they only work on the multicart versions? This is something I will have to check out later.

Otherwise, there is little to say about this device. It is just Game Genie. Because I grew up without using a Game Genie (I only got a Game Genie for the Nintendo in 1998 or 1999), I don’t have a large use for this item, since I don’t feel a need to cheat myself through the older games. I do particularly love Game Genie for allowing me to access secret areas of games though. But I love the Famicom’s Game Genie even more, for what it is is: a Western device that ended up making it to Eastern shores as an obscure footnote in gaming history.

More Information about Mysterious Daou Infosys

Tonight I was hit by a bout of insomnia, for some unknown reason. During the past two weeks, I had been schlepping myself into work earlier than I had in years, due to the unfortunate hiring of a manager. To put it quite simply, new bosses equal a harder work performance, more fake smiles and the like from yours truly. Throw this on top of my already hectic schedule of a new part time job, and it’s no wonder why I’ve felt like I’ve been barely making it through the week, suddenly wondering how Monday ended up turning into Friday. Rinse, wash, and repeat.

As part of my “make a good impression on the new manager” campaign, I gave up putting away a can or two of Red Bull while at work. I guess that must have been what made my sleep problems surface. This afternoon I indulged in two coffees, and suddenly bam, I can’t sleep at night. Can one’s high caffeine tolerance truly decrease in a matter of weeks? It seems suspicious, but all I know is that it’s 4 AM and I haven’t gotten much more than a half-assed wink of sleep, and I had two coffees this afternoon. Coincidence? Who knows, but that is the story I’ll be feeding my girlfriend as I gently drift off to sleep during the new 007 movie we are slated to watch. My sufferings are your blessings though, and finally I have some time to add a few more scraps to the pile about the mysterious Korean game company, Daou Infosys.

The folks at Hardcore Gaming 101 suggest that Daou Infosys first came to surface producing original MSX/Zemmix games, typically featuring licensed characters from Korean animations. They would also go on to develop a handful of Sega Master System originals, as well as set of Famicom games including Dooly Bravo Land and The General’s Son.

Fewer people are aware, however, that Daou also produced a few Korean Famiclones, as well as a Karaoke machine for the Famicom with its own software. And then there are the ties to Color Dreams and Tengen. Yes it’s true, Daou officially licensed Tengen’s unlicensed Skull n Crossbones, Toobin’, and Klax games and distributed them around Korea during the 90s. Even more interesting is that they also obtained licenses for Color Dreams games, and the children of South Korea were also suffering through Baby Boomer and Crystal Mines, as well as horrors such as Challenge of the Dragon and even worse, Menace Beach, just like the American children in a world so far away.

I’ve always pondered the following question, namely whether Daou also obtained distribution licenses for other Color Dreams / Tengen originals. The part of the Color Dreams catalog being developed by Sachen doesn’t seem like a likely candidate for a Daou release, but something like Captain Comic is surely in the realm of possibility. But due to these games being so damned scarce, it seems that even the locals aren’t 100% sure what exists and what doesn’t.

So that brings me to last week. I saw a set of Famicom games for sale, mostly comprised of filler. A clone machine was also in the set, but for the $85 asking price, the set just wasn’t that great. I’ll post a pic and you guys can be the judge.

$85 Games Lot

Now this isn’t the original picture that I saw of the set, but I deleted that picture a few days back, and this one still gives the same basic feeling. It was all “meh”, except for the one game I saw in the corner, with Korean writing on it. I recognized the logo immediately and thought, “Wow, a Daou Infosys game”. So I bought the set of games despite the price and quickly paid.

This is where the story gets complicated. A day later, the seller sent me a message and told me he wanted to refund me $10 for “the game with the Korean writing”, as in his words “it didn’t function”. Since I only made the purchase because of this game, I was quite upset, and I also figured someone was trying to backdoor me. So I threatened the seller with bad feedback, declined his refund offer, and told him I was interested in the game whether it worked or not. At this point I was also feeling a bit upset, since I was just curious as to what game was on this cart. There were astronauts floating out in space, so I speculated that perhaps this was a Korean Captain Comic. Had I discovered an unknown Daou release? Below you can see a closer picture of the cartridge, but I covered up the Korean text to save the surprise for those that can read the words from that tongue.

The Mysterious Daou Infosys Game

Eventually I did manager to convince the seller to send me the game, and when I received a large package last week while at work, I could barely contain myself, anxiously waiting to go home so that I could test the game out and (hopefully) get it up and running. I had no problem getting the cartridge to play, but it turned out to be the biggest disappointment of the century. My dream of a Korean Captain Comic was dashed, when the familiar title screen for Twin Bee loaded up. Twin Bee?!? Seriously? I paid $85 for a bootleg copy of Twin Bee?!? To add insult to injury, the title screen wasn’t even hacked or anything. Then I reset the game and discovered it was actually a 4 in 1 multicart, with Twin Bee, 1942, Super Mario Bros., and Xevious. What a boring combo.

When we look at the back of the cartridge, we see the cart ID LB16, and when comparing this to Whirlwind Manu cartridges, we see that LB16 is indeed Twin Bee. So it doesn’t even seem as though the seller pulled a fast one by swapping cart PCBs or anything sinister like that.

Whirlwind Manu Code LB16, Twin Bee

This finding showcases something that has until now never been brought to light though. It seems that in addition to their unlicensed games, Daou was also releasing bootleg Famicom cartridges, and they may have even had ties to the company that manufactured the Whirlwind Manu games. It certainly wouldn’t have been the first link of this sort, as the Korean Famicom brand, Pascal, seems to have had ties with Bit Corp, and then there is also the situation of Kuk Je Academy distributing Sachen games in Korea.

Uncensored Pic of the Front Label

So overall, I paid $85 plus had to wade through some drama for what amounts to nothing more than a glorified multicart with Twin Bee. It was quite the disappointment, but at the same time, you never know what you may find unless you bother to take the risks and jump on the opportunities that arise – you win some, but you also loose some, and at least my curiosity was settled. Furthermore, we also learned a bit more about Daou Infosys, specifically that the company was also involved with producing bootleg Famicom carts to accompany their legal products.