In the end, though, Muscle March is a curse inside of a blessing inside of a curse… inside of a blessing. It’s seductive, it’s joyful, it reaches the camp heights we have longed for since Cho Aniki but after the intoxicating first fifteen minutes it reveals that beneath the flashing surface and cheap thrills it hides nothing. Absolutely nothing. You can not hate it because it’s so handsome and silly and quick, but you can’t love it either because Namco never gave it any tools to make love with.
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Hvala Meho.
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