When I first booted up PG-Geisha's Revenge, the pixelated visuals and chiptune soundtrack immediately transported me back to classic arcade cabinets of the 90s. That retro aesthetic had me convinced I understood exactly how combat would work - maintain distance, strike cautiously, and never get too close to enemies. Boy, was I wrong. The game's combat system pulled off this brilliant deception, presenting itself as something familiar while hiding a surprisingly modern approach to close-quarters combat that completely redefined how I approached each encounter.

I remember my first major boss fight against the Crimson Oni - I kept my distance, trying to pepper it with weak ranged attacks while desperately avoiding its charge attacks. After dying three times using this cautious approach, something clicked. I realized the game wasn't punishing me for getting close - it was rewarding me. That moment when I finally embraced the combat's true nature felt like discovering a secret the developers had intentionally hidden beneath that retro facade. The transition from hesitant newcomer to aggressive close-quarters specialist became my most satisfying experience with the game.

What makes PG-Geisha's Revenge's combat system so remarkable is how it subverts expectations while remaining incredibly intuitive once you understand its core philosophy. During my first five hours with the game, I tracked my combat approach evolution: initially, 78% of my attacks were from medium to long range, but by hour five, that number flipped to 85% close-quarters engagements. The system trains you through subtle cues - enemies actually have longer reach with their weapons than you do at medium range, forcing you to either stay extremely far back or get right up in their personal space. The sweet spot, I discovered, was practically hugging enemy models while executing precisely timed dodge-rolls through attacks rather than away from them.

The dodge-roll mechanic deserves special attention because it's the linchpin that makes the entire close-quarters system work. I spent about two hours in the training arena just testing the limits of this movement option, and what I found surprised me. Your dodge-roll provides approximately 12 frames of invincibility at the start of the animation, which might not sound like much but proves perfectly tuned for the game's attack patterns. What felt odd initially was the separate button for the backward dodge-flip - I kept wondering why the developers implemented two nearly identical defensive options on different inputs. After discussing this with other players in the community Discord, I learned I wasn't alone in barely using the dodge-flip. Most players I surveyed reported using the forward dodge-roll about 90% of the time, with the backward variant reserved for very specific situational responses.

Mastering the rhythm of attack and dodge became my obsession. The game's combat dances to this beautiful tempo - strike three times, dodge-roll through the incoming counterattack, reposition, and repeat. Against the Twin Blades mini-boss in the Bamboo Forest stage, this rhythm became particularly crucial. I counted exactly how many attacks I could safely land before needing to dodge - against most standard enemies, three quick slashes followed by an immediate dodge-roll proved optimal. For larger enemies, that number dropped to two attacks, and for bosses, often just one well-placed strike before evasion became necessary. This risk-reward calculation creates this constant tension that makes every encounter feel both dangerous and manageable simultaneously.

What truly separates competent players from masters, I discovered, is understanding the spatial awareness required for optimal positioning. The game's environments aren't just backdrops - they're integral to combat strategy. Narrow corridors force you to dodge-roll through enemies rather than around them, while open areas allow for more strategic positioning. I developed this habit of constantly scanning my surroundings during fights, noting walls, obstacles, and environmental hazards that could either work to my advantage or spell instant death if I dodged carelessly. This spatial mastery becomes particularly crucial during the game's spectacular boss fights, where the arenas often transform mid-battle, requiring constant adaptation of your positioning strategy.

Weapon selection dramatically influences how you engage with the close-quarters combat system. Through extensive testing across my 42-hour playthrough, I found the quick katana suited my aggressive playstyle perfectly, allowing for rapid three-hit combos followed by immediate dodges. The heavier nodachi, while dealing more damage, left me too vulnerable between attacks. Meanwhile, the dual wakizashi blades offered incredible combo potential but required getting dangerously close to enemies. I settled on the balanced katana for most of my playthrough, though I know players who swear by the spear's extended reach despite it contradicting the game's close-quarters emphasis.

The progression system cleverly reinforces the close-quarters combat focus. Early skill unlocks include "Dodge Mastery," which increases invincibility frames by approximately 15%, and "Close-Quarters Specialist," which boosts damage when attacking immediately after dodging through an enemy. These aren't just statistical improvements - they psychologically reward you for engaging with the combat system as intended. I found myself deliberately taking more risks to trigger these bonuses, which in turn made me more comfortable with the aggressive playstyle the game encourages.

If I could offer one piece of advice to newcomers struggling with PG-Geisha's Revenge's combat, it would be this: unlearn everything other games have taught you about spacing. Embrace the intimacy of fighting literally inside your enemy's personal space. That moment of hesitation before closing the distance is what gets most players killed. The game wants you up close and personal, dancing through attacks rather than running from them. It's counterintuitive at first, but once that mental switch flips, the combat transforms from frustrating to fantastically fluid. My own turnaround came after dying 17 times to the second boss before finally accepting that retreat was the real enemy, not the monster I was fighting.

Looking back at my complete playthrough, what stands out isn't any particular boss or story moment, but rather that beautiful evolution from cautious outsider to confident master of the game's unique combat rhythm. PG-Geisha's Revenge doesn't just allow close-quarters combat - it demands it, crafting an experience that feels both nostalgically familiar and refreshingly innovative. The retro aesthetic becomes this wonderful misdirection for a combat system that could only exist with modern game design sensibilities, creating something truly special in the process.