Just as the frenzied mob was on the verge of tearing apart the arcade owner's beloved establishment, a small delivery truck finally appeared at the end of the street.
The shipment had arrived!
"Everyone, calm down! The machines are here! In at most an hour, everyone will be able to play Contra!"
The truck pulled up and lowered its unloading ramp.
Two beautifully designed arcade cabinets were wheeled down and revealed before the crowd.
Standing at the very edge of the crowd, John immediately noticed the artwork painted on the cabinet.
Arnold Schwarzenegger had a cigar clenched between his teeth, a sleek machine gun cradled in his hands.
That brand new look, completely different from his usual Conan the Barbarian image, pierced straight through John's heart.
"Mike, no matter what, I'm trying that damn game today!"
"Really?" Mike pointed inside the arcade. "Then we got here way too late."
With the line looking like this, they'd be lucky if it was their turn before nightfall.
Mike couldn't help wondering if he'd somehow stumbled into a parallel universe.
Just look at these people, they were practically ready to start fistfights over a spot in line, all for a video game?
Wasn't everyone saying video games were dead?
He watched as the mass of players surged forward together with the two cabinets, wriggling their way into the arcade.
The arcade owner, meanwhile, was glowing with excitement, looking ten years younger.
Together with his employees, he struggled desperately to maintain the fragile order, keeping the rioting crowd away from the two machines he'd spent nearly ten thousand dollars to secure.
Ten thousand dollars!
That kind of money could have bought an entire row of cheaper arcade machines!
Yet at this moment, he didn't feel the slightest bit of heartache. On the contrary, he was immensely proud.
Charging one dollar per play, he'd recover the entire investment in less than half a month.
After that, these two cabinets would become the crown jewels of his arcade.
They would bring in hundreds of dollars in gross revenue every single day.
They were practically chickens that laid golden eggs!
Not daring to waste even a second, the staff quickly positioned the machines, plugged them in, and powered them on.
...
"Jump, Mike! Jump!"
John hammered the buttons furiously, using the devastating spread fire of the S weapon to mow down endless waves of enemies.
On the other side of the screen, Mike's situation was far worse.
The blue-haired 2P commando rolled frantically through the air, barely avoiding bullets that grazed past his scalp every single time.
Mike bit down hard on his lip, mechanically mashing the jump button.
To make sure he had enough firepower to fight, John had given him many of the important power-ups.
Yet Mike kept making foolish mistakes, wasting both an M weapon and the Speed-Up, and even costing them all of their extra lives.
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One more mistake, and this run would be over.
Mike didn't dare look back, but from the waves of heat radiating from behind him, he could tell the line of waiting players was still enormous.
Once this game ended, getting another turn would be impossible.
"John... I can't do it anymore. The rest is up to you..."
In the end, Mike took one wrong step and was hit squarely between the eyebrows by a turret ahead, instantly exploding into fragments.
John didn't answer.
His entire focus was fixed on the 1P character he controlled.
Though the graphics were still pixelated, he could clearly see that it was Arnold.
Or rather...
It was the person he wanted to become.
He stopped making futile attempts to cover Mike and instead leaped backward onto a platform.
John rapidly tapped the directional buttons, instantly angling his gun diagonally downward.
The upgraded Spread Gun unleashed a fan-shaped barrage, quickly destroying the turret.
Such a daring maneuver immediately drew gasps from the surrounding spectators.
That move had sent him charging directly into a storm of bullets.
One tiny mistake, and he would have died instantly.
With Contra's one-hit-kill mechanics, even the smallest error was fatal.
But he had pulled it off.
Just like the hero of an action movie!
Even John himself hadn't expected he could do it. His breathing quickened, yet a smile spread across his lips.
Games were completely different from movies.
He had gone from being an observer…
…To becoming a participant.
…To becoming the one playing the hero.
John still had only a pair of slender arms.
He still didn't possess his idol's rugged physique.
Yet at this moment, he felt a thrill unlike anything he had ever experienced before.
Gun in hand, he charged into the enemy base, tearing through the enemy lines with the fighting prowess of a true hero.
Standing beside him, Mike couldn't help marveling at how completely absorbed John had become.
Unlike John, however, Mike didn't have such intense feelings towards Arnold.
He judged the game more on its own merits.
In the past, whenever he evaluated a piece of entertainment, he would score it comprehensively from every possible angle.
But when faced with Contra, he suddenly didn't know how to judge it.
Like Conan the Barbarian, it was exhilarating and fast-paced.
But the story lacked depth.
There were no profound themes or philosophical ideas.
Yet Mike didn't feel the slightest bit dissatisfied.
If someone asked him to watch Conan the Barbarian a second time, he'd grow irritated, because he'd already experienced the exact same thing once before.
But if it were Contra, Mike had no doubt he'd happily enjoy it again and again.
If he absolutely had to sum it up in just one word, they would be.
Fun!
So damn fun!
The only problem was that he simply sucked at it.
Mike scratched his head, glanced at the clock on the wall, and suddenly snapped back to reality.
"How's it already this late?! Damn it! John, stop playing! We're going to be late for work!"
As two community college students barely scraping by, even weekends had to be filled with part time jobs just to make ends meet.
John finally came to his senses and looked toward the clock.
By the time they got back, they would have almost no time left to spare.
But...
He turned back toward the screen.
His character stood heroically inside the enemy base, fully prepared to save the world.
He couldn't bear to leave such an incredible experience behind.
He didn't want to lose this moment.
"I really... really want to finish this run..."
John's expression fell.
No matter how it ultimately ended, he had already come to regard this playthrough as a journey into another world.
But he also knew this wasn't the time to throw a tantrum.
If he lost his job, he'd be in serious trouble.
Just then, an impatient voice suddenly called out from behind them.
"Hey, buddy, hurry it up. If you've got somewhere to be, just save your game and let someone else have a turn."
It was the player waiting directly behind them.
John's impressive skill wasn't exactly good news for him. After waiting this long, he had completely run out of patience.
"Save... your game?"