[JPN RetroAd Archive] Armored Trooper VOTOMS, Edo no Kiba, Mishin Densetsu Zoku & Super Godzilla

Welcome to another entry in JPN RetroAd Archive, a series exploring Japanese video game magazine advertisements.

[Retro Ad Archive] Mechs, Cyber-Samurai, and a King of Monsters


1. Armored Trooper VOTOMS: The Battling Road (Super Famicom)


"An iron duet, drifting gunsmoke." The tagline alone sets the tone, but it's the oil-painted Scopedog looming over the page that actually stops you cold. This isn't the sleek, heroic mech design language of Armored Core or Gundam — VOTOMS always ran on something grittier, more grounded, more "this is what a real battlefield would actually look like." (And is it weird that Kiriko looks a little too pretty in this one? Anyway.)

Takara was already a heavy hitter in toys and games by this point, with a track record of turning Sunrise's mecha properties into playable software. This 1993 release packed a DSP (Digital Signal Processing) chip right into the cartridge to push past what the Super Famicom could normally handle on its own. The screenshots along the bottom show exactly what that bought: Mode 7 and the DSP chip working together to fake a full 3D battle field on hardware that was never built for it — turning a 2D sprite machine into something that genuinely felt three-dimensional (and that trick wasn't cheap to pull off, either). The Scopedog's signature roller-dash, all that spinning and sliding momentum, somehow made an already round, stubby-looking mech even more endearing.


2. Edo no Kiba (Super Famicom)


Illustrator Yoshiyuki Takami's razor-precise mechanical linework reads like straight sci-fi at first glance, right up until something feels quietly off about the whole thing. The text opens with "2550 AD, near-future Edo..." and the artwork backs it up hard — crests stamped across a mech's chest, a lantern-shaped weapon labeled with the mark of imperial authority. It's a genuinely strange, specific pitch: a cyberpunk world fused with old Edo aesthetics, and the ad leans all the way into it. Honestly, the art alone is a full meal.

Telenet Japan, and RIOT — the internal team behind this one — are remembered by '90s subculture diehards as a studio whose ideas and visuals were consistently ahead of their time, even when the finished product didn't always land. Plenty of their games got tagged as beautiful messes for exactly that reason. Edo no Kiba is very much a product of that same reckless ambition. Layered parallax scrolling, oversized boss reveals, cutscenes built around brush-calligraphy fonts — the visual swings here were genuinely top-tier for the era. (Players who got hooked by the ad's sheer aura, though, paid for it later: merciless bottomless pits and hitboxes that felt subtly, maddeningly wrong kept a lot of people up way too late.) Telenet's attempt at end-of-the-century Japonesque cyberpunk fantasy still stands as one of a kind.


3. Mishin Densetsu Zoku (Super Famicom)


Art by Katsuya Terada!!
A man's sharp, dead-eyed stare next to a striking blonde woman — that's the pairing that grabs you first. Behind them, a Neo Tokyo skyline drenched in shadow and biker-gang flags whipping in the wind pull straight from Japan's *yankii* biker culture of the '80s and '90s, filtered through the same dystopian mood *Akira* made iconic. The tagline — something like "The most brutal combat beauty... from hell, to hell" — reads a little goofy by today's standards, in a fun way.

Magifact, the publisher, specialized in obscure, cult-status software most people have never heard of. True to its subtitle — "the ultimate violent car-action" — this one welded biker gangs, vehicular combat, and hand-to-hand brawling into a genuinely strange racing-fighter hybrid. It split opinion hard enough to flop commercially, but there's something worth respecting in a game willing to shove "adult violence" into a Super Famicom library that was, at the time, mostly candy-colored and family-friendly.


4. Super Godzilla (Super Famicom)

Image Credit: TOHO Co., Ltd


Godzilla, glowing blue, roaring through red flame and black smoke — this is one of those ads that needs exactly zero copy to make its case. Illustrator Naoyuki Kato's brushwork alone sells the whole thing, and it's about as strong a statement of kaiju-genre authority as a single printed page can make.

Toho built this one around its single biggest asset, but the game itself asks for something more analog than "control Godzilla directly." Instead, you're issuing movement orders on an overhead map, and once you cross paths with an enemy kaiju, you're timing command inputs in the fight that follows. The presentation chased that tokusatsu, guys-in-suits feel hard, and the sound chip got pushed to its limit just to deliver a Godzilla roar with real weight behind it — a combination that emptied plenty of tokusatsu fans' wallets on release. Whether the actual gameplay lived up to the sheer painterly grandeur of that ad is a fair question. Mostly, it didn't quite.

[Fact added through research] Super Godzilla shipped December 22, 1993, and the late-game "Super Godzilla" form — where Godzilla absorbs King Ghidorah cells to power up — actually became the design basis for SpaceGodzilla, who showed up on the big screen the following year in Godzilla vs. SpaceGodzilla (1994). Worth noting since it means the ad's grandiosity wasn't just marketing bluster — it was quietly tied to where the film series was headed next.


All promotional images used in this review are sourced from 1990s video game magazine advertisements for review and commentary purposes.

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