There are games that tell stories, and then there are games that beckon you into an entire world, whispering in your ear, twining folklore with character, and challenging you to find truth beneath the waves (see what I did there?). Paranormasight: The Mermaid’s Curse is firmly in the latter category. Released by Square Enix and developed by Xeen, this standalone sequel builds on the cult success of Paranormasight: The Seven Mysteries of Honjo, not by simply repeating its predecessor, but by seeking out new waters altogether. Where Honjo felt like a cold urban legend breathed to life, The Mermaid’s Curse feels like a warm tide rolling against ancient rock, lush with atmosphere, rich with myth, and brimming with human stories that ebb and flow like the tides themselves. Safe to say, I loved it. Time to dive in.
A village, a curse, and many voices
At its narrative core, The Mermaid’s Curse is about juxtaposition, which is a ‘fancy’ word for tradition versus change, myth versus reality, and what happens when people are drawn into forces far older and deeper than themselves. You play primarily as Yuza Minakuchi, a young pearl diver living on the remote island of Kameshima in Ise-Shima, Japan, a part of the world historically known for ama divers, women and men who free-dive for seafood and pearls.
But Yuza’s story isn’t just one of pearl diving. After an unearthly encounter beneath the waves, where he sees another version of himself on the ocean floor, strange, uncanny events begin to ripple through the island and its inhabitants. These events are bound up in the local legend of the Mermaids of Ise, a mystical and notoriously elusive mythic presence said to dwell in the ocean’s depths (“ningyo” tales from Japanese folklore often portray mermaids as omens of both disaster and longevity). Rather than a linear tale, the narrative is modular and branching: you’ll see the story through the eyes of multiple characters, ranging from a treasure hunter, a mysterious outsider, a housewife with her own cryptic connections to the island’s tragedies, and each perspective reveals different facets of what happened and why. As with any good mystery, the truth isn’t delivered in a single scene; it’s pieced together, clue by clue, route by route. Crucially, The Mermaid’s Curse embraces the idea of multiple endings and narrative resolution paths, meaning you can finish your first playthrough with questions unanswered, or unlock deeper truths through successive runs and careful exploration of every narrative thread.
This structure immediately sets the game apart from standard visual novels that follow a single main arc. Parallels are felt more immediately in games that unfold through cross-cutting perspectives and cumulative revelations, hinting at deeper layers without ever cheating the player with spoilers. And as the game itself states, you don’t need to reload once to experience everything this game has to offer.
The folklore under the surface: mermaid myths and storyworld depth
Where The Mermaid’s Curse truly shines is in how it roots its supernatural setup in culture and folklore rather than cheap jump scares or contrived horror gimmicks. The setting, Kameshima and the larger Ise-Shima region, is steeped in coastal traditions, and the game leans into this with surprising depth. The mermaid myths here aren’t the sugar-coated, sirens-singing tropes from Western pop culture. Instead, they draw on themes found in Japanese ningyo lore, where mermaid figures are seen as ambiguous agents, bearers of curses, omens of disaster, or symbols of forgotten truths lost to time.
Throughout your journey, journal entries, item descriptions, and character dialogue fill in fragments of these legends, and the way the game integrates them feels organic rather than expository. You’ll learn about how mermaids and the curses associated with them were perceived in isolated fishing communities, how these tales served as warnings, and how belief itself can shape reality. Yet none of this ever pulls you out of the narrative flow; instead, it stitches cultural texture into every corner of the world. It’s a slower burn than some fans of the original may expect. This sequel is far more interested in emotional resonance and mythic resonance than cheap frights, and that philosophical depth becomes one of its strengths. And as a historian, I can only applaud it.
A VN with extra hooks
At first glance, The Mermaid’s Curse plays like a classic visual novel: static scenes, richly written dialogue, and story branching based on choices you make along the way. But describing it just as a visual novel undersells what’s happening beneath.
Two design pillars distinguish this entry:
- Story chart and perspective shifts
Instead of a straightforward branching tree that locks you out of alternate routes, this game uses what feels like a flowchart mechanic in which each segment of the story, and each character’s viewpoint, interlocks into a larger tapestry. You revisit past segments informed by new knowledge, and sometimes a choice made early on ripples forward into entirely different narrative branches. This structure calls to mind the systems used in titles like Zero Escape or even certain segments of Ace Attorney, where you’re encouraged to think holistically about the narrative rather than passively follow it. Where Ace Attorney tasks you with cross-examining contradictions, Mermaid’s Curse has you cross-examining perspectives, sorting through subjective truths to find an objective conclusion.
- Mini-games and environmental engagement
Unlike most visual novels, this game gives you minimal but meaningful moments of gameplay, such as the diving mini-game early on, where you control Yuza underwater, collecting sea creatures and upgrading your breath, swim speed, and harvesting skills. While on the surface this feels like a light diversion, it integrates with the narrative world in ways that reinforce the setting and immerse you further into both the characters and the environment. These moments are never so heavy that they pull focus from the story, but they break up long stretches of text in just the right way, giving your eyes something dynamic between scenes, and your mind something tactile to latch onto.
Visuals and sound: aesthetic risks that pay off
There’s a tension in The Mermaid’s Curse between static art and cinematic ambition, and in most cases, it lands wonderfully. The aesthetic leans into painterly panoramas blended with expressive character sprites, often more exaggerated and animated than you’d expect from a traditional VN. This contrast gives the game a kind of hyper-real, uncanny tone: the world feels real, yet just a little off-kilter, which is perfect for a story about myth and psychological dislocation.
Environmental backgrounds, often inspired by real locales in Japan’s Mie Prefecture, have a cinematic sweep that elevates what could otherwise be simple textboxes and character portraits. Music and ambient sound, from the hush of tide pools to the distant call of seabirds, pull you even deeper into the world, rarely letting immersion slip. On the sound side, this is a wise use of restraint: instead of bombastic orchestral scores or loud sound cues, most of your experience is carried by subtle melody, mood, and atmosphere; and that ultimately suits the merfolk mystery better than anything designed to startle or shock.
Where this swims in the VN landscape
Calling The Mermaid’s Curse simply a “visual novel” is like calling Citizen Kane a melodrama. It shares DNA with its VN peers, branching narrative, choice-driven outcomes, heavy text, but it also incorporates:
- Investigative flowchart mechanics, reminiscent of Ace Attorney and Zero Escape systems.
- A nonlinear story puzzle structure that doesn’t just branch, but weaves.
- Mini-game interludes that enhance rather than distract.
- A sensitively developed mythos that goes beyond typical genre fare.
Compared to most visual novels, which either exclude any gameplay or limit it to binary choice trees, The Mermaid’s Curse feels interactive in both form and function; you’re not just reading; you’re assembling meaning. There’s cerebral satisfaction in that progression, and it’s exactly why this game lingers after you finish.
Conclusion:
Paranormasight: The Mermaid’s Curse is not a game you rush through. It doesn’t hand you the ending, it invites you to dive for it, piece by piece, like a diver searching for a lost pearl. Its pacing can be deliberate, its story demanding, and its branches sometimes unfurl more slowly than players might expect, but there’s elegance in that patience. This is a game that doesn’t rely on cheap scares or gimmicks. It leans into mythic depth, human emotion, and story mechanics that respect the player’s intelligence. It draws you into a world that feels real, yet steeped in the uncanny, and it stays with you long after the ending, gently urging you back for another dive. And please, search for the True Ending. It’s so worth looking into the mechanics behind it. Trust me.
