By all rights, Trillion Game should be a blast. Creators Riichiro Inagaki and Ryoichi Ikegami have more than a dozen hit series to their names—including Eyeshield 21, Dr. Stone, Sanctuary, and Crying Freeman—and a flair for writing shamelessly entertaining stories that burst at the seams with crazed villains, over-the-top plot twists, and jaw-dropping action scenes. Trillion Game, however, is just plain bad, saddled with a premise so dumb I’m almost embarrassed to type it: a young man sets out to be the first Japanese entrepreneur to make a trillion dollars without an actual plan for achieving that goal.
A dumb premise isn’t automatically a deal-killer; executed with panache, a silly idea can still work if the reader feels invested in the main character’s success. Trillion Game, however, has both a dumb premise and an awful lead who is less a person than a teenage male fantasy, a ruthless entrepreneur who weaponizes his charm and good looks to get what he wants. Haru lies, bluffs, and cheats, manifesting new talents—say, bantering in Mandarin or scaling skyscrapers—whenever the plot demands, prompting other characters to gush about his charisma and business acumen. His only redeeming quality is his unwavering loyalty to friend and business partner Gaku, a helmet-haired nerd with computer skills. Even that relationship is fraught, however, as Haru repeatedly puts Gaku into situations that test the limits of his abilities.
The other issue plaguing Trillion Game is its sincerity: we’re supposed to admire Haru’s audacious, go-for-broke style, even when his behavior seems more sociopathic than strategic. No matter what he does, Haru always gets the best of his opponents, especially when they appear to be more logical, experienced, or perceptive than he is. That dynamic is most evident in his interactions with the beautiful, inscrutable Kirika Kokuryū, a.k.a. “Kirihime,” a twenty-six-year-old wunderkind who helps her father run the all-powerful Dragon Bank. Any time she gets the upper hand in her dealings with Haru and Gaku, the authors undercut Kirihime’s authority by dreaming up new ways to humiliate her while suggesting she’s turned on by Haru’s cutthroat tactics.
The only bright spot is Ikegami’s artwork. As he did in series like Samurai Crusader and The Wounded Man, Ikegami populates the story with attractive leads while rendering the supporting players as caricatures, making it easy to keep track of the sprawling cast. The layouts, too, are easy to scan: they’re dynamic and detailed, capturing the density and opulence of Tokyo’s financial district with the same degree of realism as the spartan office that Haru and Gaku rent.
No amount of stylish artwork, though, can disguise the fact that Trillion Game feels like an macho artifact of the 1980s, a Wall Street for the Young Jump reader. I have no doubt that there are folks who will love this series, but I found it impossible to get swept up in Haru’s embrace of greed and deceit, especially when he approvingly cites broligarchs like Mark Zuckerberg and Jeff Bezos as an inspiration. Not recommended.
TRILLION GAME, VOL. 1 • STORY BY RIICHIRO INAGAKI • ART BY RYOICHI IKEGAMI • TRANSLATED BY STEPHEN PAUL • TOUCH-UP & LETTERING BY JOANNA ESTEP • VIZ MEDIA • RATED M FOR MATURE (NUDITY, SEXUAL REFERENCES) • 208 pp.
SEAN: I can’t guarantee that I’ll be devouring it immediately, but given its legacy I think The Legend of Kamui has to be my pick of this week.
