Hideki Kamiya, director of the original Resident Evil 2, says Capcom may have become “completely numb” to how scary its modern Resident Evil games actually are. “I wanted to experience that myself as a player, but the game was way too scary, and I couldn’t.” “This is not a joke; I’m being one hundred percent serious when I say that I wish they would make it so that their games can also be enjoyed by people like me, who can’t handle scary games at all.” Kamiya suggested making small changes such as giving zombies less frightening faces, putting “brown paper bags” over their heads, adding more pleasant lighting and removing blood.

Hideki Kamiya, the director and creator of the Devil May Cry series, replied to a female cosplayer who tagged him in a mirror selfie of her Dante costume. He simply responded, “Marry me.” When the cosplayer asked if he was joking, Kamiya continued the playful conversation by asking for 4K photos and saying that he loves her pictures. As you know Kamiya usually quickly block everyone online over small comments Via:@animetrends

Hideki Kamiya, the creator and director of the Bayonetta video game series, recently replied to a user on X. The fan described Bayonetta as an absolute “LGBTQ icon” and criticized Bayonetta 3 for trashing the legacy of the games, and asked for Kamiya to return. Kamiya quoted the user post and responded: “Idiot, disappear…”

Konami president Hideki Hayakawa doesn’t think AI is going to completely change the video game industry. He says AI could make development faster and more efficient, but people are still the most important part of creating good games. “The most important factors in producing entertaining and innovative video games are people and creators.” Hayakawa also believes that having devs with different backgrounds and ideas is what helps create something new. “That kind of chemical reaction is not something that can be easily replaced.” Konami is interested in using AI, but Hayakawa doesn’t see it replacing the creativity and ideas that come from human devs

Every church in America has assigned seats. Nobody assigned them. Nobody will tell you where they are. And everybody knows. My friend Hideki found this out in Mississippi. Last spring, his company sent him to a plant outside Tupelo for a month. On his first Sunday, a coworker named Trent invited him to church. Hideki is Japanese. "Church at ten" means he arrived at 9:20. The building was empty. Every seat was free. He chose carefully. Third pew. Left side. On the aisle. There was a soft little dip in the cushion, exactly the size of a person. It looked like the best seat in the house. It was. At 9:40, people began to arrive. Each one walked in, saw him, and stopped. The room went quiet the way a family dinner goes quiet when the new boyfriend sits in Grandpa's chair. Hideki smiled at everyone. He bowed. They smiled back. Very carefully. At 9:58, Miss Earlene arrived. Ninety-one. Blue hat. Walker with tennis balls on the feet. She has sat in the third pew, left side, on the aisle, since 1964. The dip in the cushion was her. She stopped at the end of the pew. She looked at Hideki. Hideki stood up, bowed, and warmly gestured to the seat beside him. He was welcoming her. To her own pew. The whole church held its breath. Miss Earlene did not say a word. She turned around and sat down in the pew behind him. The Hendricks family, who have sat in that pew since 1979, stood up without a sound and moved back one. The family behind them moved back one. And the family behind them. Eleven pews. Nobody spoke. It was like watching dominoes fall in slow motion, in Sunday clothes. The last family, the Dawsons, had nowhere left to go. They were seated in the choir loft. The Dawsons do not sing. Hideki watched all of this and was deeply moved. In Japan, when an entire room rises and moves for a guest, it is a ceremony of welcome. He bowed to every family as they passed. Every family nodded back, the way you nod at a man who has no idea what he's done. After the service, Trent explained. "Third pew, left, aisle. That's Miss Earlene's. Since '64." "Is it written somewhere?" "No." "Is there a sign?" "No." "Then how does everyone know?" Trent thought about it. "Same way you know your mama's voice." "Has anyone ever sat there before?" "Once. 1988. A visiting Presbyterian." "What happened to him?" "We don't talk about it." In Japan, you reserve a seat by buying a ticket. In Mississippi, you reserve a seat by sitting in it every Sunday until the pew learns your shape. Hideki was mortified. He found Miss Earlene by the coffee urn and bowed very low. He apologized for sixty-two years of seat. She patted his hand. "Honey. I've been sitting in that spot since before your daddy was born. Today I finally got to see it from behind. It looks real nice." Then she leaned in close. "Sit there again next Sunday. I want to see what it does to the Dawsons." He did. Every Sunday for the rest of the month. Every Sunday, Miss Earlene sat behind him. Every Sunday, the whole church slid back one row. Nobody complained. Trent says attendance went up. People came to watch. On Hideki's last Sunday, the Dawsons stood up in the choir loft and sang. They had been practicing. It had not helped. Last week, a church newsletter arrived at Hideki's apartment in Tokyo. Under ANNOUNCEMENTS, in shaky blue ink, someone had added one line by hand: "Third pew, left, aisle. Reserved for Hideki. Whenever." For sixty-two years, nobody wrote it down. The first time anybody did, it was for him. The Dawsons are still in the choir.

Konami’s president just pushed back on the idea that generative AI will reshape game development. Hideki Hayakawa said the technology won’t bring significant change to the market. Entry barriers already dropped with modern engines and UGC, and even if AI improves efficiency, “the most important factors in producing entertaining and innovative video games are people and creators.” He specifically called out the “chemical reaction” that happens when developers from different backgrounds work together. He doesn’t believe that can be easily replaced. It’s a notably grounded take from a major publisher while a lot of the industry is racing the other direction.

Seiya Suzuki became the fourth Japanese-born player to reach 100 MLB homers, following Hideki Matsui, Ichiro Suzuki and Shohei Ohtani 🤩 Take a look back at the moment each player reached the milestone!