From the moment the rattling box landed on his doorstep, Keripo knew something was wrong. The parcel, which had travelled from Portugal to the United States, was wrapped in unfamiliar tape carrying a blunt official message: "Opened and Resealed By Customs." Inside, where layers of bubble wrap and cardboard had once cradled a 3.5-inch floppy disk of extraordinary rarity, there was almost nothing left worth saving.
The disk in question was a Tsukihime Trial Edition, a pre-release demo of the Japanese adult visual novel Tsukihime by developer Type-Moon. It was sold for just 100 yen at the Comiket 57 convention in late 1999 in Tokyo, Japan. Only 50 copies were ever made, and it was released long before Type-Moon became a global name through the popular Fate series. Today, as reported by IGN, a comparable copy sold at a 2021 Mandarake live auction fetched around 2.5 million yen, roughly $16,000 USD.
Keripo, whose real name is Philip Peng, documented the unboxing on video. The disc had been seemingly torn open, from the bending of the plastic and the bizarre way the floppy centre had been removed. Even the promo poster that came with the game had been crumpled, leaving the collector utterly shocked at how their parcel had been handled. A friend who had helped source and ship the item from Portugal confirmed the disk's authenticity before dispatch, including photographs showing it carefully sandwiched between cardboard and sealed in multiple layers of bubble wrap.
It remains unclear who is responsible for the destruction of the floppy, reducing the known copies of the prototype from 50 to 49; it seems likely to have been either courier DHL or U.S. Customs. Initially, Keripo had assumed a customs border patrol official was responsible, but in a later post stated the package also had a "DHL security checked" sticker, widening the list of suspects. IGN has sought comment from U.S. Customs and Border Protection, which had not responded at the time of publication.
One theory circulating online centres on the disk's "Adult Only" label. Under U.S. federal law, all persons are prohibited from importing into the United States from any foreign country any obscene book, pamphlet, paper, writing, or other representation, figure, or image, or any cast, instrument, or other article which is obscene or immoral. Critically, the law as written under 19 U.S. Code ยง 1305 prescribes seizure and potential forfeiture proceedings, not physical destruction. Even if an officer had flagged the item for its adult content, the correct procedure would have been to hold it and notify the addressee, not to shred it.
The Trial Edition is an early preview from before the game was finalised, and game historians prize beta builds for the insight they offer into the development process. Tsukihime is an eroge visual novel that was released in 1999 on Windows and developed by Type-Moon, the company that would later go on to create the Fate/stay night series. The collector had been planning to display the item as the centrepiece of a public Type-Moon museum, documenting the studio's history before its mainstream breakthrough.
There is a reasonable argument that customs agencies carry a legitimate responsibility to screen imported goods, including materials that may fall under obscenity statutes. Border security is not theatre, and officers are routinely expected to make difficult judgements with incomplete information. What distinguishes this case, if the facts are as described, is not the act of inspection itself but the apparent absence of any process: no seizure notice, no forfeiture proceedings, no communication with the addressee. Just a ruined artefact delivered back in pieces.
"While nothing can be done to undo the destruction of this historical cultural relic, as a hardcore Type-Moon collector, I wish to raise understanding and awareness so such tragedies will never happen again to others," Keripo wrote on 28 February. "I have submitted a formal letter of inquiry to U.S. Customs and hope to get some answers in the coming weeks."
Keripo has also sent off inquiry letters to DHL to try to learn what happened, and hopefully to receive some compensation. The physical disk, while irreparably damaged, retains a kind of grim distinction: a friend who holds another copy was able to perform a digital scan and confirm its authenticity, preserving at least the content, if not the object itself.
The episode sits at an uncomfortable intersection of border security, cultural heritage, and institutional accountability. Customs agencies in democratic countries derive their authority from a social contract: the public accepts the power to inspect and seize in exchange for a transparent, rules-governed process. When that process breaks down, whether through negligence or unchecked discretion, the cost is borne by individuals who had no meaningful avenue for redress. A floppy disk is, in one sense, a small thing. In another, it is a quarter-century of irreplaceable cultural memory, now held together with tape.