While I watch my character walking slowly towards the sunrise at the end of Valiant Hearts: The Great War, I take a look back at the road that has brought me here. Considering that for the most part it lead through the battlefields of World War I, the journey was surprisingly rich in variety, and it entailed even some nice memories besides all the horror. Yet it has been exactly those contrasts, these emotional ups and downs, which make these sensations so intense. Its beginning seems almost a bit unreal now, but soon the story will come to an end, and I cannot remember when I had such a feeling of accomplishment at the end of a computer game.
In the old, golden days, video games where thematically almost exclusively catering for a single target audience: male adolescents. Logically, some fantasy themes were recurrent: saving the earth and all of humanity or even the whole universe. Those were the goals and challenges of tomorrow's family men. Gaming having grown up, yesterday's youths are now confronted with reality. Those old dreams have been tainted as childish and the games industry now also delivers realism into the formerly well kept play rooms of today. One way of doing this apparently involves simulating every single job, no matter how absurd, and also every single every day activity, no matter how trivial, in a game. Resulting in increasingly obscure products in which the original ideas can hardly be recognized anymomre. Though even in the good old days, us heroes had to take a couple of collateral damage hits and, for example, resign ourselves to the role of a simple taxi driver. The implication being boring drives from A to B, where the highlight of the day is exchanging some gossip with the passengers. Unless, of course, it was Space Taxi.
Lured by the promise of quick money, Matt Stuvysunt arrives in London in early 1953. A meeting with his not very sympathetic, but nevertheless fascinating aquaintace Briggs provides him with a used car, some startup money and at least a faint idea where to start: a small kiosk somewhere out of town. Low gain, but also close to zero risk. Briggs himself is obviously up to something a lot bigger.
Only one problem has yet to be overcome. Matt can't drive a car, and just running away after the successful coup is hardly practical. So he hangs around in the well-known underworld bars looking for an accomplice with this missing ability. It doesn't prove to be that hard, and after one evening of plotting in Matt's hotel room, a few minutes of actual work and a visit to the local fences, the protagonist's riches have been multiplied - even after giving the driver his or her share. After this encouraging experience, Matt decides to continue this line of enterprise, slowly going up to harder targets...