Shinobi III: Return of the Ninja Master – Retro Review

The Ninja Game That Ex-Zeeds Expectations

My most successful writing endeavour to date was a script I put together for the TripleJump YouTube channel about the ten most disturbing 16-bit video game bosses. I had the idea for the list myself and it ended up performing incredibly well. At the time, most TripleJump videos would get 20k to 30k views in the first week or so, and this one rocketed up to the hundreds of thousands. The algorithm must have really liked it, I guess. It’s not the best thing I’ve ever written, and to my eternal shame I forgot to put the Vortex Queen from Ecco the Dolphin at number one, but I’m still very proud of it.

The whole idea was spawned by a boss from Shinobi III: Return of the Ninja Master on the Mega Drive. The game’s third stage, ominously named “Body Weapon”, is set in a laboratory complex where the bad guys are brewing up disgusting minions in bio-vats. Slime-covered humanoids emerge from biological waste beneath the floor and brain monsters with insectoid wings lurk on the ceilings, ready to pounce on unsuspecting infiltrating covert operatives.

Go for the eyes, Joe! Go for the eyes!

Towards the end of the stage Joe Musashi, the titular Shinobi, will find himself up to his shins in organic matter in the sewers beneath the laboratory complex, and a gigantic and grotesque figure emerges from the waste in the background, spewing energy projectiles at our beleaguered hero. This creature is known as Hydra, and at the end of the stage Joe will come face to hideous face with it. Hydra’s pixelated horror is a perfect representation of how developers from the 16-bit era managed to expertly create uncanny abominations using the limited resources at their disposal. Limitation breeds creativity, as they say.

When Joe isn’t desperately battling gigantic, malformed, pulsating, atomic beam-belching monstrosities in infested sewer systems, he can be found traversing various cool action movie-style locations while taking on the rest of Neo Zeed’s minions. The game starts out in a forest teeming with enemy ninja that leads to a series of watery caverns, but soon enough Joe will be fighting on horseback under a stormy sky, traversing an industrial facility in a burning wood, crossing a bay on a cool, motorised surfboard thing, leaping from falling rocks in a moonlit ravine, and much more. Shinobi III: Return of the Ninja Master is full of awesome set-pieces that make it that bit more memorable that its predecessor, The Revenge of Shinobi.

This game convinced me that I wasn’t cool enough to grow up to be a ninja.

Unlike that game, Shinobi III: Return of the Ninja Master didn’t benefit from the craft of 16-bit musical legend, Yuzo Koshiro, but the team of composers that were brought on board for the follow up still did a stellar job, providing a distinct soundtrack full of epic highlights. The strange yet bombastic tones of “My Dear D”, the music that accompanies the aforementioned Hydra battle, are a huge contributing factor to that section of the game’s ability to stay with me for all of these years, but the entire adventure is backed up by blood-pumping and thematically appropriate tunes.

The gameplay was tweaked since The Revenge of Shinobi, and progress is a bit easier overall. Joe can now dash, and is able to perform a super-stylish flying kick and an awesome-looking running slash that comes complete with a generous helping of invincibility frames. He can also leap from wall to wall, which results in some interesting level layouts that test Joe’s newfound agility. While still difficult at times, Shinobi III: Return of the Ninja Master goes for spectacle over challenge, and if you know me, you know I’ll take awesome moments and memorable set-pieces over controller-biting difficulty levels any day of the week.

There are a couple of sections in the game that slightly interfere with the pacing, like this slow-moving lift section crawling with Zeed soldiers.

Alas, if you’re a strictly physical-only gamer (which I totally respect) Shinobi III: Return of the Ninja Master is a little bit expensive to get hold of nowadays. I think it’s a better time than The Revenge of Shinobi (which I also adore, by the way), but is it £100 better? Probably not. Still, with Lizardcube’s Shinobi: Art of Vengeance a few months away at the time of writing, Shinobi III: Return of the Ninja Master is the best Shinobi game out there in my opinion, and provides a non-stop roller-coaster of awesome, ’90s ninja-based action. Watch out for that third boss, though. Hydra has a tendency to stick with you, even more so than the Vortex Queen, apparently.

Gauntlet IV

Warrior, Valkyrie, Wizard, Elf, and a Couple of Legendary Bards

The idea of the Gauntlet games always appealed to me as a kid. It had that exotic-yet-comfortable classic fantasy vibe, featuring swords and sorcery, Valkyries and barbarians, and hordes of evil minions to slay in the name of justice (probably, I never paid too much attention to the storyline), but it combined this with a heavy dose of good old-fashioned, co-operative multiplayer. The venerable series takes an arcadey approach to dungeon crawling, with its fast-paced, projectile-based combat, maze-like levels, and constantly dwindling health reserves designed to suck up your coins, and leaves concepts like party management and stat wrangling to the likes of Wizardry and SSI’s Gold Box series of stuffy D&D games.

In 1993, a game called Gauntlet IV was released exclusively for the Sega Mega Drive. Developed by M2 and published by Tengen, it served as a sequel as well as a remake, providing a port of the original game as its “Arcade Mode”, and adding in a unique “Quest Mode”, where players could purchase items and access limited character levelling.

The controls are tight and it’s satisfying to lay waste to hordes of enemies. It’s easy to get overwhelmed, though.

The game is good; a very competent translation of Atari’s original title with plenty of added content and four player multiplayer available across Arcade, Quest, and Battle modes. The tried-and-tested Gauntlet gameplay survives intact and the twists put on the formula by M2 are welcome. The graphics are fine, if a little dull (the dragon bosses added in Quest Mode are very flat and barely-animated), the digitised voices are kind of a mess but have a janky charm, and there’s enough content to keep enthusiasts occupied for weeks. A sterling game, but unremarkable by the stellar standards of the Mega Drive’s top titles. Here in 2025, Gauntlet IV is all but forgotten, and it’s no real surprise, as there isn’t a whole lot about the game that makes it stand out.

Well, apart from the fucking incredible music, that is.

That’s right – this isn’t one of my retro reviews, this is a love letter to one of the most overlooked soundtracks on Sega’s 16-bit banger factory, as when it comes to perfectly-realised musical accompaniment, Gauntlet IV is (in my opinion) right up there alongside the three big S’s, Sonic the Hedgehog, Shinobi, and Streets of Rage. The soundtrack was produced by a pair of musical wizards; Hiroshi Sakimoto and Masaharu Iwata, whose best-known works include Final Fantasy Tactics and Final Fantasy XII, and combines Conan-style, bleak, heroic fantasy fare with atmospheric electronica to masterful affect.

It may not look like much, but by the four elemental towers does it sound great.

If you look up this soundtrack on YouTube or some other soundtrack-storing app or website, you’ll find that the first five tracks consist of a somewhat generic-sounding main title theme followed by four tempo-shifted versions of a rather grating “Treasure Room” song. You’d be forgiven for writing off the soundtrack as forgettable, uninspired plinky-plonk at this point, but I advise pushing on through, as 16-bit, dark fantasy masterpieces await the determined.

For the last part of this article, just for fun and to indulge myself a bit, I’m going to pick out some of the musical highlights and attempt to flex my creative writing muscles to describe the atmosphere each tune evokes to me. If you read this, perhaps check out the soundtrack and see if it takes you to the same magical places.

Whisper of Phantom

A lone traveller crosses a barren swamp where once a great battle was fought. The warrior’s heartbeat pulses, gripped with fear as he peers into the unnatural darkness, the shapes of twisted trees and the shattered remnants of ancient fortifications looming like spectres from an unnatural mist. Hulking scavenger birds peer from their gnarled perches and unseen creatures skulk in the muck and fog. A lonely pipe or flute plays a distant, unsettling tune that calls to the ghosts of warriors that still haunt this place, the notes occasionally threatening to bring a tone of hope, but always descending into loss and loneliness, perfectly suited to this forsaken, haunted land.

Sortie

A hero returns home from a triumphant victory, the high walls of the city topped with rows of baying admirers and draped with shining pennants. The hero has triumphed through strength of arms, and his servants bring carts loaded with treasures from another land and decorated with grizzly trophies of an ancient and hated foe. The people are elated, foreseeing a time of wealth and plenty, but every great victory comes at a cost, and an ominous, orange sun sets as the mighty gates close behind the hero’s retinue, painting the city’s walls in a blood-red glow. Tonight, though, is a time for rejoicing. They can worry about the future tomorrow.

Adventures of Iron

A band of stalwart warriors defend the walls of a mountain fortress as a storm descends across the walls. The fortress is a rare bastion of good in a barren and savage land, and dark hordes accompanied by furious beasts ascend the rocky slopes. Lumbering giants scale the walls with ease, only to be met by the axes and arrows of the heroic defenders, and minions of the dark gods astride snapping wyvern mounts descend from the darkened skies, but many are brought low by hurtling ballista bolts, their winged corpses crashing on the mountainside below. The tide of the battle is slowly turning. This encounter will be hard fought yet, but beams of golden light begin to penetrate the clouds.

Transparent Obstacle

A group of adventurers have been tempted into a crystalline cave by a malicious spirit. Deep inside, a supernatural light shimmers along shining surfaces, and all sense of space is lost. Powerful treasures and untold riches sit in out-of-reach places beyond thick walls of clear crystal. A jade statuette appears to move out of the corner of an eye, a spoke of radiant, near-invisible thread seems to vibrate, like the web of some unseen arachnid. A passage descends into the earth, both ominous and enticing. The adventurers gather their wits and press onwards, and from some unseen location, an unknown intelligence watches them closely through the eyes of its skittering familiars.

There you go, and I only used a thesaurus once.