Sea of Wealth: Hunt for Coins Slot Review

Poseidon guards a sunken Atlantis vault, and the whole thing is a coin-collect bonus wearing a slot for a costume. Five reels, three rows, and only five fixed paylines running left to right. Land six or more Bonus coins anywhere on the board and the reels empty out for a hold and win round where every coin sticks and every value pays at the finish.

This follows Sea of Wealth from December 2024, and the machinery is familiar: sticky coins, a resetting spin counter, four fixed jackpots. The board is what changed. The original ran 3x3; this one runs 5x3 with the same five lines drawn across it, so ten of the fifteen positions have nothing to do until the bonus arrives. The return went the other way too, 96.15% down to 95.81%.

The ceiling climbed to 10,000x. The best payline win did not move at all.

A drowned temple in pale blue-green stone, carved columns and arches receding into the murk behind the reels, seahorse and shell reliefs cut into the pillars, light shafts and stray bubbles drifting up the frame. A pile of gold coins and loose gems spills over the top edge of the reel housing like the vault above has already burst. Four jackpot plaques sit stacked down the left in red, green, blue and purple.

Poseidon is the top symbol, grey-bearded and scowling in a gilt frame with a gold crown and one armoured shoulder, and he is the only symbol here with any character to him. Below that a red treasure chest with a purple octopus draped across the lid, which is the nicest piece of art in the set. Then pairs of dolphins, and then four different fish, also drawn in pairs, in purple, red, yellow and orange. That is the problem with the board: the low half is one idea recoloured four times, and mid-spin the reels blur into a wall of fish. The oyster Wild with its dark pearl and the gold trident inside a glowing blue disc read cleanly at least, which matters when you are counting coins. Underwater work of this quality is common now, and Evoplay has done it competently rather than memorably.

The base game is quiet in a way that wears on you. Fifteen positions of fish, five lines threaded through them, so the reels routinely look packed with matching symbols and pay nothing whatsoever because the matches sit off the lines. When something does connect it is usually a low pair worth 1x. At a hit rate around one spin in five, that adds up to a lot of grinding sideways while the balance drifts down.

Then the coins start arriving and the register changes completely. Two on screen is noise. Four is a held breath. Five with a Trident somewhere in the mix is the moment the entire machine was built around, and it collapses far more often than it lands, because six from fifteen is a genuinely hard thing to ask of one spin.

Inside the bonus the pacing is a different game altogether: coins locking in place, a counter that keeps getting shoved backwards just as it runs dry, a board creeping toward a target you can literally count. For my money that is the only part of this with any tension in it, and the fact that a buy exists at all suggests Evoplay reached the same conclusion.

Strip off the temple art and this is a coin-collect round with a slot bolted to the front of it. The bonus itself is well made. The Trident amplifier is a strong idea, the resetting counter keeps rounds breathing far longer than a three-spin format implies, and the GRAND target lines up honestly with the advertised ceiling. The buy is cheap by this studio's standards and pays back more than playing normally does.

Everything around it drags. Four low symbols pay the same as each other, five lines cross fifteen positions, and the base game has been hollowed out to push all the interest into the bonus (and yes, a game where the sensible advice is to skip straight to the buy is its own kind of admission). Evoplay pulled the same trade on Scratch Match Deluxe: a bigger number on the box, less coming back. The sequel is the larger game and the poorer one.