神谷英樹、「小島秀夫は新『P.T.』風ゲームをつくるべき。あるいは、私がやるかもしれない」

Hideki Kamiya’s recent reflections on P.T. and its lasting legacy underscore not just his personal admiration for Hideo Kojima and Guillermo del Toro’s groundbreaking demo, but also a deeper cultural commentary on the evolution of horror in gaming. Though he humorously claims he "hates horror" and lacks ideas for a direct successor, his words carry weight — not only as a statement from one of Japan’s most influential game designers, but as a quiet acknowledgment of P.T.’s irreplaceable role in redefining what a game can be.

Kamiya’s tweet — "if Kojima doesn’t do it, maybe I’ll give it a go" — is more than playful banter. It's a nod to the kind of creative courage that P.T. embodied: a game that wasn’t meant to sell, but to unsettle. Its 10-minute loop of a haunted hallway, steeped in psychological dread and surreal storytelling, wasn’t just a demo — it was a manifesto. It proved that horror didn’t need jump scares, gore, or long load times. It only needed atmosphere, tension, and a masterful sense of design.

That's why Kamiya’s insistence that the "P.T.-like" genre should be renamed — not to “The Exit 8 effect” or “subway horror” — but to P.T.-like, is so significant. He’s not just crediting P.T. as an inspiration; he’s asserting its foundational status. The Exit 8, despite its viral success and cult following, is, in Kamiya’s view, a pale echo — a spiritual descendant, not a peer. And while The Exit 8 captured the public’s imagination with its minimalist dread, it never quite replicated the emotional and narrative precision that made P.T. feel like a rare artistic artifact.

Now, with Kojima’s upcoming OD — co-created with Jordan Peele, the mastermind behind Get Out and Us — there's a real chance that the spirit of P.T. might finally be reborn, albeit in a new form. OD’s focus on "overdosing on fear" suggests a game that doesn’t just scare you — it wants you to question how much fear you’re willing to endure. That’s not just gameplay; it’s psychological experimentation. And with Peele at the helm, it’s likely to be as emotionally intelligent as it is terrifying.

Meanwhile, Kamiya’s own journey continues to unfold. His new studio, Clovers, and his work on Okami 2 (a long-anticipated sequel to the cel-shaded masterpiece that redefined artistic expression in gaming) show he’s not abandoning creativity — he’s evolving. While he may not be making a horror game, his artistic sensibility, honed through Devil May Cry, Bayonetta, and even his early days on Resident Evil, still makes him uniquely qualified to explore the same emotional territory as P.T. — just through a different lens.

In truth, P.T. may be gone from official distribution, but it’s very much alive in the way games are made now. Its ghost lingers in every eerie hallway, every ambiguous sound, every moment of silence that feels too long. It lives in The Exit 8, in OD, and in the quiet reverence that creators like Kamiya still hold for it.

As Kamiya suggested — if P.T. can’t be resurrected, perhaps the next great horror game won’t be a copy. It’ll be something new. But it will still carry the same soul: the soul of a game that refused to be just a game. It was art. It was fear. It was unforgettable.