About Hobo 7: the Heaven Version
I have to admit, when I first heard about Hobo 7: the Heaven Version, I wasn’t sure what to expect. The title alone conjures up this wild mash-up of down-and-out street life and something ethereal, like you’re about to traverse a neon-lit underpass straight into a sprawling, cloud-filled dreamscape. As it turns out, that’s exactly the sort of crazy contrast the developers lean into. You step into the shoes of a lovable, scruffy character who’s been granted a one-way ticket to this bizarre “Heaven” realm—only to discover it’s not all harps and harlequins. It’s equal parts slice-of-life and surreal adventure, blending moments of peace with quick bursts of frantic action.
Gameplay-wise, it’s surprisingly approachable. There’s a side-scrolling exploration system that lets you chat up NPCs, pick up odd jobs like floating barista gigs, and even rummage through clouds for collectible relics. Yet just when you start feeling cozy, the heavens send down “cloud bosses” who have to be outwitted or out-fought. I loved how the mechanics shift on you—one second you’re making latte art with the AI barista, the next you’re dodging gusts of wind from this boss cumulus monster. It keeps the pacing fresh, and that playful unpredictability is exactly why I kept coming back.
What really sold me, though, was the soundtrack. There’s this mellow, lo-fi beat underneath everything that feels like a slow Sunday morning, interrupted by these soaring orchestral punches whenever the stakes get high. It’s an oddly perfect fit for a game about a hobo in paradise, if you can believe it. And even beyond the music, the dialogue is chock-full of dry humor and warm one-liners that make you root for our dusty protagonist. It’s not just another run-of-the-mill platformer; it’s a quirky little tale about finding home in the most unexpected place.