Puts you in a trance from the beginning, where you’ll be under its spell till the end. Lingering even after that, begging you to come back and take flight once again. Electrosophere may not be as mechanically sound as the previous entry in the franchise, which is why it speaks volumes that it’s able to grip you tightly regardless, where you’ll dance to its tunes and fly through its skies. It’s more than just a pretty aesthetic, it’s more than just anti-war.

AC3’s view on war itself is that of a sick game played by sick old men and it treats it as such. What are you fighting for, really? Every mission feels like you’re nothing more than a pawn for powers greater than yourself, it's all a ploy. All of it. Every one wants a piece of the pie, a taste of power, a chance to reign supreme. Your actions are not your own, your decisions are not your own. It's all an illusion, a trick, and at the end of the day what are you fighting for, really? To maintain the status quo? The same one in which people live under corporations that only exist to suck them dry even further? What was it all for? Do you the connections you hold have any meaning?

The true ending which you unlock after having done all five routes is the ultimate showcase of this, showing why wars are really fought. Nothing noble, nothing special. Just a personal vendetta. Did it even matter? It's just a game at the end of the day.

𝗘𝗡𝗧𝗘𝗥𝗜𝗡𝗚 𝗘𝗟𝗘𝗖𝗧𝗥𝗢𝗦𝗣𝗛𝗘𝗥𝗘

I'm writing this review barely an hour after having Infinite Wealth. Normally I'd wait a bit and let it sit in my mind as I try to pick it apart, and I know I'll realise that the edges are rougher, I know that...but right now I want my memory of this to remain as untainted as possible. I know that sometime in the future I'll look at this review with tainted eyes, cringing at my self but I want to write this right now so I can look back and see that I genuinely loved this game deeply.

It took nine whole games to get here, and I'm at the end of it with my emotions being a complete mess. It takes so much hard work to sell a character, much less the same one around eight times over, and each time I've fallen in love deeply with Kiryu Kazuma all over again.

"They all treat you as if you're some hero. If we ended up just like you...the illusions of the yakuza life would be stronger than ever."

Piece by piece for eight whole games, we've been building up the legend of the Dragon of Dojima alongside him. Every admiration thrown towards Kiryu doesn't feel like just cheap talk, it feels earned because you yourself earned it.

Infinite Wealth isn't an erasure of every misstep this franchise has taken, it doesn't hide it but instead puts it on full display, it shows just how much you have impacted the world around you for so long to the point where at the end of Kiryu's life, the only question that remains was "Was it worth it? Was it a life worth living?"

It's hard having the courage to do something. It's even harder to be the one to give that courage to others but this common trait, this link that runs deeper than the dragons on their backs, is exactly why Infinite Wealth isn't just talk. You've seen that exact event take place time and time again, and now all that remains is the end of Yakuza as you know it. It asks you to be brave and head towards an unfamiliar future, and let the burdens of the past be a weight on your shoulders no more.

I wish I had something more meaningful to say, and in the future I probably will, but I want a record of my feelings as they are now. A public if not embarrassing declaration of my utmost love for this entry in the series, guess I'm taking a page out of Ichiban's book in doing this. Not that it matters, I think we can all benefit by being a bit more like Ichiban Kasuga.

𝗔 𝗬𝗔𝗞𝗨𝗭𝗔 𝗙𝗢𝗥 𝗧𝗛𝗘 𝗡𝗘𝗪 𝗔𝗚𝗘!

If you think about it, there really was no better choice than Ichiban Kasuga to replace Kiryu Kazuma, was there? Sure you could point to previous protagonists such as Akiyama or Saejima to take over the lead, and that’s not a bad idea by any means it’s just…the fact that it is someone like Ichiban that makes a lot of sense. The very prospect of filling in the boots of the DRAGON OF DOJIMA himself with a new protagonist is daunting from a development perspective, and downright scary from the player perspective. Which is why I’m so happy that Yakuza: Like a Dragon is as good as it is, that for every hole I can poke into this game’s mechanics or narrative, there’s a moment that makes me fall in love with it all over again.

So much of the praise I see lobbied towards this game’s narrative stems from a view that it’s scathing in its critique of the establishment, where in place of the typical JRPG “fight god” final boss, the god is the arm of the government itself. It’s certainly not a wrong view, but I think it’s misleading. Personally, I don’t find the critiques it delivers super meaningful, I think it buckles under it’s own weight in that regard and struggles in it’s representation of them but that’s really never been the focus for me. I’m not ignorant of the flaws of this game, I think the last two party members are embarrassingly underdeveloped, the turn-based combat also leaves a lot to be desired (although this replay was done with the Like a Brawler mod) and there’s also some of the traditional Yakuza plot devices which I don’t like…but despite all that I rarely find myself thinking of the negatives because the positives far outweigh them.

To me, Yakuza 7 is an innately human story, surprisingly intimate with it’s world in a way few other games in the series are. Like I said, it’s the original Yakuza, repackaged and rewritten for the new age and it’s that guiding philosophy of looking to the past while embracing the future works. It’s Kiryu and Nishiki all over again but not with the somber badass attitude of the original, Y7 is much more interested in exploring how meaningful even a single relationship can be. Even to people who have betrayed you, even to people who have hurt you, if you can find the strength within yourself to forgive them then why not, right? Nobody wants to lose people whom we hold dear, even if they do wrong there’s a strong capacity for good in everybody and Ichiban Kasuga is a man who will take those chances, who will take those odds. The Koi has become one with Dragon, and it will keep moving forward, holding the ones it loves close. It’s a rejection of Kiryu and Nishiki’s solitude, and a celebration of the bonds we hold dear.

𝗞𝗘𝗘𝗣 𝗟𝗜𝗩𝗜𝗡𝗚, 𝗜𝗖𝗛𝗜.

"𝙏𝙬𝙤 𝙨𝙬𝙤𝙧𝙙𝙨, 𝙙𝙖𝙣𝙘𝙞𝙣𝙜 𝙞𝙣 𝙩𝙝𝙚 𝙝𝙚𝙖𝙫𝙚𝙣𝙨, 𝙨𝙬𝙞𝙧𝙡𝙞𝙣𝙜 𝙗𝙚𝙣𝙚𝙖𝙩𝙝 𝙩𝙝𝙚 𝙨𝙩𝙖𝙧𝙨...𝙗𝙡𝙚𝙣𝙙𝙞𝙣𝙜 𝙖𝙣𝙙 𝙘𝙤𝙣𝙨𝙤𝙡𝙞𝙙𝙖𝙩𝙞𝙣𝙜 𝙞𝙣𝙩𝙤 𝙖 𝙨𝙞𝙣𝙜𝙡𝙚 𝙨𝙬𝙤𝙧𝙙, 𝙜𝙧𝙚𝙖𝙩𝙚𝙧 𝙩𝙝𝙖𝙣 𝙩𝙝𝙚 𝙨𝙪𝙢 𝙤𝙛 𝙞𝙩𝙨 𝙥𝙖𝙧𝙩𝙨."

Dare I say the most important game in the franchise, writing down a formula that this series has come to follow even more than the original two games did. In a franchise as expansive as Like a Dragon/Yakuza, there are bound to be some titles that are left to the wayside with every title in the series being playable in English, officially or by fan-patches, except this one. I guess it’s easy to see why, the first five chapters are constrained, feeling closer to a tech demo testing out what the PlayStation 3 can accomplish which makes the possibility of a remake unlikely and a remaster even unlikelier.

Even now I’m struggling to write about this game in detail because to do so I have to expect that you have played or know the details about this game in some capacity but I know that’s not the case and I’m left feeling more like a car salesman trying to sell you on this game more than anything else. This is a game that’s defined by its connection and parallels to the main series more than how it radically differs from it. Miyamoto Musashi is not Kiryu Kazuma but he is Kiryu Kazumanosuke, a man imbued with a similar sense of purpose. Both are characters who are changed by their meeting with Haruka, both have lost years of their life unjustly, and both have been beaten and betrayed. Instead of the way of the Yakuza, Musashi is dead set in following “the way of the sword”. Fighting is all he knows, strength is the only measure these men can define themselves but it’s all for naught if they can’t even protect the ones they hold dear. Yakuza has messed around with themes of identity and duality, before and since Kenzan, but the manifestation here is one that’s based on myth, main series parallels, and their personas in the narrative. To understand what this game is trying to achieve one has to know all three because that context is needed to realize the sense of self imbued on its characters.

It’s exactly due to these parallels that the final chapter is the most shocking yet makes the most sense, reframing everything you’ve come to know and expect. There’s an inner conflict in this game’s philosophy, you can’t adapt the life of Miyamoto Musashi in the image of Kiryu Kazuma and expect some things not to be seen from a mile away. Everyone even remotely familiar with Musashi, either through history or even other fictional works such as Vagabond knows about his famous battle with Sasaki Kojiro, so the outcome is no surprise. It’s what comes after. It’s a defiance of fate in the most extreme sense possible, a past unchangeable and it rebels against even that to relay to you that what’s most sensible isn’t always right, that you’re not defined as a hero because of your actions written in history you’re a hero because of what you do here, right now. It’s about fighting even the fate that is history itself, even if history is a lie. Even if it doesn’t remember who you truly are. It’s stubborn, but it’s for yourself. It’s only due to that, only due to our ability to love that we’re able to heal. Kenzan takes two separate men, one written in the annals of history and one who's a video game legend , and merges them in a way that every distinction between the two synthesizes into one individual who is arguably greater than both of them. Even if it is a lie.

Around 10 minutes into the game, there’s a cutscene showing Kiryu navigating his modern day life; as every second that passes showing just how hollow he’s become. Every semblance of human connection has been lost, every thread has been cut. The smiles on the faces around him don’t matter, or rather he won’t let them matter. All he can do is submerge himself in vices that are probably accelerating his incoming diagnosis. Yet despite his somber face, even when the feeling of melancholy literally bleeds through the screen, you know he is content. He chose this. This is nothing more than a culmination of every decision he’s made since the late 80s, being defiant at every single turn. Ironically, his only escape was death itself and he denied even that. His entire life he’s followed nothing but the way of life that is the Yakuza, even when he stated otherwise.

The most restrained entry in the series yet. Every time it feels the façade that is Kiryu’s current life is about to be shattered it purposefully holds itself back, putting its hand on its own shoulder and telling itself “Not yet”. For a franchise as bombastic as Yakuza/Like a Dragon, a lot of the games are defined by their tendency to explode and it’s precisely because of that absence that The Man Who Erased His Name works so well. That tendency to not go overboard works in its favor, yes it serves to tease the audience but when it does finally get to the parts when it lets loose you realise that it really doesn’t have much to show with a lot of it being what you’ve already seen in the previous main entry. This isn’t Yakuza 2’s sprawling conspiracy, this isn’t Yakuza 5’s thesis on dreams, this is the dejection of Kiryu Kazuma and what he has become.

The grand finale isn’t the traditional Yakuza one. Yes, two shirtless men are duking it out over their ideals but no amount of blood-pumping fistfights this game could have ever offered will top what Gaiden leaves you with. There’s a reason why so many people I know say that they’ve teared up at it, because it’s a release of every emotion that was bubbling under this game’s skin itching to be let it for the whole 15-hour duration where you’re left with nothing but tears of the strongest man in this franchise’s history. It’s an end to the denial of Kiryu’s true nature, showcasing just how far he’s fallen and how deep his love really runs. Every game in the series follows the lengths of his stubbornness and this game is no different, he is still steadfast in what he believes but at the end of it you realise that there’s a limit, that at one point he can’t do this anymore.

As the camera comes up to his face at the end, as his head turns around, you see the glimmer in his eyes and the slight smirk on his face. You see a renewed hope inside of him, you see Kiryu Kazuma as he once was. You see The Man Who Erased His Name.

𝑰𝑵 𝑻𝑯𝑬 𝒀𝑨𝑲𝑼𝒁𝑨, 𝑭𝑬𝑨𝑹 𝑰𝑺 𝑵𝑶𝑻 𝑨𝑵 𝑶𝑷𝑻𝑰𝑶𝑵!

Duality lies at the heart of Yakuza 2, with the 2 in the title not just being an indicator of this being the next entry in the series. Like a virus, it infects this game on every level. Two cities, two regions, two clans, two identities, two nationalities, double agents, double-crossed, body doubles, twice as big as the first game, twice as bombastic.
AND TWO DRAGONS!

Any discussion of the PS2 Yakuza games isn’t complete without first bringing up the separate atmosphere these games exhibit which is something the series has sorely lost post Yakuza 0. The biggest fix to the atmosphere is by making the sound of each district of Kamurocho more distinct and unique, unlike the first game which insisted on reusing the same loop for almost every area resulting in walks across town feeling even more like a chore than they usually do. That’s exactly why the town of Sotenbori contrasts so beautifully with Kamurocho, being the exact opposite in a lot of ways. More varied, more compact, and in a lot of ways is a better city than Kamurocho itself. A charitable view of this difference is that it’s meant to signify how exactly the Omi Alliance separates itself from the Tojo Clan, even more than the Omi HQ itself.

The first game’s combat, while being beaten by other games released during that period, was still relatively fun but Nagoshi’s insistence on making sure Yakuza 2 lives up to that number means the combat receives a major overhaul on almost every level. It flows much more smoothly and lays a lot of the groundwork for the design philosophy of the combat system that is still followed by RGG Studio to this day. I played the game on Hard difficulty and occasionally no damaged a few bosses, allowing me to appreciate where this system excelled and where it fell short. And despite how fun it usually is there’s still the occasional boss which feels poorly designed, or like it’s meant to be played on a lower difficulty.

Although I’d be lying if I said the combat is the main draw of these games for me, going to the narrative I realize that it’s probably some of the best writing this franchise has seen. The first two Yakuza games were still written by multiple writers, after which the series mostly became Yokoyama’s playground; and this being his second game the improvement is very noticeable. He’s able to infuse the pervasive theme of duality in every element of this game, and while I can praise Yokoyama it’s still important to acknowledge that a lot of what makes Yakuza 1&2 so great is their ability to write crime dramas so well. This was most likely Hase Seishu’s doing, as he still script-doctored Yakuza 2. So it feels like a crime drama in its second season, aiming higher and being louder. It’s unknown how much Makoto Itakura, the third writer, did as after Yakuza 2 he’s mostly been relegated to the background just to show up in the “assisting directors” list of almost every Like a Dragon game released since but whatever he did I think Yakuza 2 shows why having multiple writers can work very well sometimes. Bit by bit, it’s able to effectively build up and unravel its mystery, showing just how much petty revenge can consume you. It all culminates in one of the bloodiest nights Kamurocho has ever seen, one of the best finales this franchise has to offer, and definitely the best Christmas game ever made.

On a cold winter night, they exchange fists. It's not a matter of love, it's not a matter of hate. Not even about honor. Just the desire to prove they can, before the silence that will ensue.

𝗦𝗜𝗟𝗘𝗡𝗧 𝗡𝗜𝗚𝗛𝗧, 𝗛𝗢𝗟𝗬 𝗡𝗜𝗚𝗛𝗧.

Tick. Tick. Tick.

It is February 2022. I don’t remember the date. I’m sitting in my living room at midnight. I’m scrolling through twitter.
Nothing better to do with my time.

I see my friend, Rom, on the timeline talking about a game he really enjoys.
Tsukihime.
Game? That’s not quite right—it’s a visual novel. Up until this point the only one’s I’ve played are a handful of Ace Attorney games and the main entries in the Danganronpa series, but I see them more as games than visual novels in my eyes. I’m not particularly enticed by the screenshots of Tsukihime that I see either… I don’t read much and I don’t know if I could handle 50 hours of just that.

But even so, I’m find myself being pulled towards it…like a lost relic from the past, I’m nostalgic for it without a reason to be so, it might just be that I’ve played a lot of Melty Blood the year prior without any care for where these characters originated from but this feeling scratches away at my mind like a dog with my curiosity being the only driving factor. I do not understand.
—I cave.

𝗧𝗦𝗨𝗞𝗜𝗛𝗜𝗠𝗘
—Suddenly, I awaken with a start.
I can’t remember much from my reaction to the beginning, other than that I only experienced the first three hours before going to sleep, expecting myself to continue the next day. I didn’t.
A few months later, I find myself isolated. I can’t talk to my friends, I can’t do much of anything except waste my time playing video games. Still, it’s not all bad. This allows me to overcome some games on my backlog.
A voice in my head nags at me. Begging me to come back, come back to Tsukihime. Before I know it, I find myself on the title screen again. Over the course of the next two days, I find myself enthralled by the game, especially by Arcueid Brunestud. I wouldn’t call myself a “milkman” in any capacity…but something about this particular white woman puts her apart from the rest of the cast.

I meet her in the street. It’s my first contact with her.
It’s my worst contact with her.
Yet she still takes a chance on Shiki, and he takes a chance on her. They’re each other's polar opposites but incredibly similar too. They’re both beings haunted by a sin they committed as they try to atone for it. Their sins are pulling them toward each other, and it’s ultimately their sins that are tearing them apart. A love burns in Shiki’s heart that’s only matched by his murderous rage, both birthed out of the same place. He can’t let go.
A few days go by and I’m at the end. Shiki stares at the orange sky, I stare at my laptop screen. Both of us are waiting, waiting for a chance to meet her again and yet that feeling is what we ultimately must let go off.
The credits start rolling. There’s not a single tear in my eye…yet I don’t think I’ve ever felt this way at something before. I promise myself that I will finish this VN soon. The first of many lies.
On the 18th of April, 2022 at 12:02 am, I finish Arcueid’s route.

𝗗𝗔𝗬𝗟𝗜𝗚𝗛𝗧 𝗕𝗟𝗨𝗘
I close my laptop after that ending. I’m excited. I don’t think I’ve been invested in something this much in a while. I promise myself that I’ll start reading the next route tomorrow. This too, of course, is a lie.
I feel like it should be put into perspective just how much I had changed when I picked up Tsukihime again. I’d finished The Silver Case and with it I felt like a whole new world had been opened to me, a different way of viewing art itself. I feel like it was made for me on every level and it showed me where the true strength of a visual novel medium lies. Surely nothing else will ever make me feel this way, right?

—I’m in a familiar place. I’m isolated again. I’ve got nothing to do, nobody to talk to. Slowly, I feel an urge come over me. I’ve been here before, I know what to do. I find myself on the title screen again.

This music…I realized it before but this track really is beautiful. As limited and repetitive as Tsukihime’s tracks can get at times, I still love the sound. The repetition of the tracks is something I can grow accustomed to.
The same can’t be said for the narrative.
A few hours into the Ciel route and I’m still clicking away most of what I read. I’ve read all this before, seen all this before. It’s not unpleasant to go through this once more, but I really feel this is holding Ciel back as a character. I don’t think she’s being given ample time to develop her. I’m at the halfway point now, I think. I can’t tell when the Arcueid route ends and the Ciel route begins, but I think I made it.
Now that I think about it, each heroine is a character that lives and dies depending on their relationship with Shiki so what exactly is going on? Am I not near the end? Why is it still-

THUMP
—My heart throbs. I realise it.
This isn’t a mistake. This is a love triangle.
Frustrated. I’m frustrated. The more I read the more my suspicions just get confirmed. “Show don’t tell” is the rule isn’t it? Then why are scenes, ones that can be moving and impactful, traded away for a quick explanation of how each other is feeling? This is crazy, I’m crazy. I’m complaining about exposition dumps in a story filled to the brim with them. But I can’t help but feel this is where it’s most egregious.
What I’m reading…it’s something about perspective. Not only just in the routes, but bit by bit you uncover more of these characters, things you aren’t told in the other routes, and the two Near Side routes are a perfect showcase of that. Ciel is someone who’s able to stand on her own, apart from Arcueid, as a character. Yet she still parallels Shiki’s descent. So it’s frustrating. Frustrating that the relationship between these two feels so underdeveloped.
These thoughts keep churning in my head. At the forefront of my mind, while I keep on reading. I’m at the end now, the end of this journey. I’ve been critical of this whole route…so why does it make me feel this way? Is it some kind of Stockholm Syndrome? Am I just easily won over by lazy writing?

Shiki opens his eyes and Ciel’s teardrops fall. I smile.
On the 8th of January, 2023 at 1:08 am, I finish Ciel’s route.

𝗪𝗔𝗥𝗠 𝗔𝗙𝗧𝗘𝗥𝗡𝗢𝗢𝗡 𝗡𝗔𝗣
I close my laptop. I lie to myself again. It’s become a ritual now.

—It’s March. Hell is right around the corner for me. I don’t care. I don’t want anything to do with it. I refuse. I utterly refuse to care what life is throwing at me. Truth be told I don’t even think of it. To escape my hell, I decide to dip my toes into another one.
Truth be told, I knew what I was getting into with this route. It’s simple when I think about it. This is a game where in each route you have a heroine that you get into a romantic relationship with, so it’s not too far-fetched to assume this route will do the same. Only problem is that the heroine is the Shiki’s sister.

I can handle “dark” subject matter, it’s not a question of whether or not I can stomach incest, it’s if this game handles it well. Either that…or it veers into the dangerous territory of “problematic”. I’ve always found discussions about problematic content interesting. Of course I think the elements that fall under that label shouldn’t be in media if they’re used to fetishize them but I can’t help but notice that a lot of the argument surrounding them centers on the fact of morality. That in a society as consumed by capitalism as ours the only way to have an identity, something with which we can recognize others, is by the content we inhale at a rapid pace. Where the only way we can tell others that we are inherently good is if we enjoy stuff that doesn’t have anything “problematic”.

—There’s someone out there who could probably make an essay of this topic, but this is a review on Backloggd and I’ve spent too much time thinking about this because I’m already at the big scene.

“I love you as my sister.” Shiki says.
I hold my breath. Time feels like it’s stopped. A spark ignites in my head, the synapses of my brain jolt back and forth. My eyes fixate on the screen. My hand hovers on the spacebar. Maybe it will be all right, maybe there is no incest. I have hope, but fear still has an iron grip on me. After what feels like an eternity, I close the gap between my finger and my keyboard.
“But… I love you as my sister even more.”
I close my eyes.
“It is fate.” I utter.
Nothing I can do besides accept it.

Fate. It’s only now I realise that fate lies at the heart of this route. I’m so close to the end but this is where this route has laid its soul bare. Are we all fated to end up this way? Or can we change that? Is Akiha is a product of nature and Shiki one of nurture? Can you even fight against yourself in that manner? Is a child who has been abused all his life destined to repeat that cycle of abuse, is that evil just in his nature? It took me too long to realise, and now it’s too late.
Under a blue sky, a girl cries and hugs a knife. The end credits start playing.

On the 3rd of March, 2023 at 1:04 pm, I finish Akiha’s route.

𝗠𝗜𝗗𝗗𝗔𝗬 𝗠𝗢𝗢𝗡
—I lie again.

I have an idea. I’m eventually going to finish this visual novel one day, so why not make my review different for this one? Why not write in the style of Nasu’s prose?
Of course, I know how insane that sounds. I can’t compare to the real thing but I want to try anyway. It seems like a good way to challenge my writing capabilities.
The biggest hurdle right now is actually finishing this thing. I’m free now, so why don’t I finish Hisui’s route as soon as I can?

The first thing I notice is that this is a repeat of everything in the Akiha route for now. Mindless taps. Nothing but mindless taps.
Tap. Tap. Tap. Tap. Tap. Tap. Tap. Tap. Tap. Tap. Tap. Tap. Tap. Tap. Tap. Tap. Tap. Tap. Tap. Tap. Tap. Tap.
I’m in a dark room.
Tap. Tap. Tap. Tap. Tap. Tap. Tap. Tap. Tap. Tap. Tap. Tap. Tap. Tap. Tap. Tap. Tap. Tap. Tap. Tap. Tap. Tap. Tap. Tap. Tap. Tap. Tap. Tap. Tap. Tap. Tap. Tap. Tap. Tap. Tap. Tap. Tap. Tap. Tap. Tap. Tap. Tap. Tap. Tap.
I keep waiting.
Tap. Tap. Tap. Tap. Tap. Tap. Tap. Tap. Tap. Tap. Tap. Tap. Tap. Tap. Tap. Tap. Tap. Tap. Tap. Tap. Tap. Tap. Tap. Tap. Tap. Tap. Tap. Tap. Tap. Tap. Tap. Tap. Tap. Tap. Tap. Tap. Tap. Tap. Tap. Tap. Tap. Tap. Tap. Tap. Tap. Tap. Tap. Tap. Tap. Tap. Tap. Tap.
That rhythmic tap of the spacebar. I press it over and over and over. I feel like I’m going insane. But I can feel it, I’m so close. So close to finally getting to the new stuff but with each tap my patience keeps dwindling until there’s nothing left. Knots in my brain. Cold dead eyes. I stare at the screen.
Tap. Tap. Tap. Tap. Tap. Tap. Tap. Tap. Tap. Tap. Tap. Tap. Tap. Tap. Tap. Tap. Tap. Tap. Tap. Tap. Tap. Tap. Tap. Tap. Ta-

This is it. I’m here.
…
……
………!?
Is this a joke? I don’t understand.
The main scenario in this chapter is just Shiki going insane in a room. Just like I was. For a moment it feels like an unfortunate coincidence, something to point at and laugh but I can’t but feel like there’s something more. I have spent these past few months honing my backloggdian skills, becoming a better writer on the way.
No. My analytical skills tell me this is something more.
Yes. Kinoko Nasu did all this purpose. Yes. Kinoko Nasu is that much of a genius.
I clasp my hands in a prayer. Blessed I am to be reading this visual novel. I can only marvel at this man’s sheer writing power. With this one route, I am not “just like” Shiki Tohno. I have become him.

But I’m ignoring something, aren’t I?
Hisui’s doll-like expressions, calm demeanor, and general aloofness is something I’ve grown accustomed to by now. So seeing it break doesn’t feel like the conclusion of a character arc, it feels like a porcelain doll shattering. It’s messy. Every time I look at her I see nothing, besides someone so hellbent on protecting oneself by any means necessary. Even if it means not rejecting your own humanity.

I’m underneath a tree. Clear blue sky. I listen to her.
My heart shatters.

On the 4th of October, 2023 at 11:08am, I finish Hisui’s route.

𝗗𝗥𝗘𝗔𝗠𝗦 𝗢𝗙 𝗦𝗨𝗡𝗦𝗛𝗜𝗡𝗘
I’m done lying.

—Perspective.
It lies at the heart of Tsukihime. A subtle change in how you perceive an event can lead to a radically different outcome. For a story that’s written with this theme at heart, I can only expect the final route to be a culmination of everything I’ve come to know so far.

But with each clicking sound on my keyboard, I just feel my opinions lowering. Is this…really it? I didn’t expect a grand finale but most of what I’ve seen so far is just a rehash of the Hisui route, and not in a good way. I can almost taste the laziness through the screen.
I don’t know if I’m disappointed or something else. In a way, I can’t say this is surprising. But regardless, everything feels so rushed. It’s almost tragic to see a narrative failing its most interesting character.
—Hate.
Everything in this house is built on hate. A carefully constructed façade through and through. If you didn’t know, you could have never even guessed, and the more I play the more I become convinced that everything would’ve turned out this way, sooner or later.

I keep pressing the spacebar. Of course, now I’m long past the point of divergence with the Hisui route as well. Coming face to face with what the route has to offer and I can’t help but feel an ache in my heart, coupled with a smirk on my face. I ache for what suffering took place but my smirk isn’t a sign of a critique of the game. I think.
In a lot of ways, Kohaku’s route sort of mirrors Akiha’s route as well. “Can a doll be fixed?” being the main question here. When do you stop believing in a person, when do you give up? For a person as pigheaded as Shiki Tohno, the answer is obvious. Of course I smirk, if only Akiha route’s Shiki could see what this one has to say about incest.
I come closer and closer to the finish line. The only thing I can hope for is a happy ending, and I got a rushed one.

On the 8th of October, 2023 at 11:26pm, I finish Kohaku’s route.

𝗘𝗖𝗟𝗜𝗣𝗦𝗘
—I’m finally here, aren’t I?
Text pops up on the screen, my eyes carefully examine every single line. I don’t know what I’m looking for. Maybe a more meaningful understanding of everything so I can tell myself that it was worth it. Maybe I don’t want it to end.
With each tap, with each clicking sound, I read more and more of the final words this product has to offer. Maybe it’s a form of Stockholm Syndrome, but despite its faults, I think this visual novel won me over.
What am I saying? Stockholm Syndrome isn’t even real.
Even now as I sit here months later, way past the due date on this review, I think back to it. My first experience opening Tsukihime and meeting her, along with my last.
I can only hope that I captured even a little bit of what makes Nasu’s writing so captivating to read, but even I can acknowledge that this is nothing more than a pale imitation. Although…don’t we all try to imitate a little bit of everything that we see?

When it comes to what I’ll imitate besides this…well…
The way I look at it, every single person touched by Shiki is due to his love. His decision to pay back that small bit of kindness he received when he was very little. We are all surrounded by kind people aren’t we? So why do we hurt the ones we love the most?
You may call this unrelated rambling. I call it a clever way of imitating Nasu’s tendency to go on tangents.

At the end of the day, I have nothing more than the memories I received. It doesn’t matter if they’re positive or not, I’m just glad to have them. I know that even they will twist, even they will fade. But I don’t care.

—The lunar eclipse is far away.
So I let go.
You go ahead and pass through your remaining time.
I’ll pass through mine.
Thank you, for everything.

"Are you ready for the sexualising minors in your story lesson?"

Kazutaka Kodaka gulped.

Katsura Hashino nodded.

Nisio Isin blinked nervously.

"Yes, Gen Urobuchi" they said in unison.

A cold damp wind flows across town, invading the pores of your skin. To walk the streets of Kamurocho is being subjected to a freeze frame every 10 seconds as you move across streets, you will listen to the same whispers on the streets looping in the span of a blink or two. Which is why it speaks volumes that Yakuza is still able to envelop you inside itself; the combination of the thick atmosphere and the blaring soundtrack makes every fight feel like a battle for survival. It’s something that I feel has been lost from this franchise, with only 2018’s Judgement being able to replicate that feeling to some capacity. No doubt a million praises have been sung for this game’s atmosphere but every single positive comment is earned.

This is exactly the reason why every gesture of worship I offer the original Yakuza becomes nothing more than another point in a long list of reasons why I don’t like Yakuza: Kiwami. It’s easy for new fans of the series to look at the remake and make a false assumption that it must be better due to the fact it shares 0’s shiny combat as if the combat of the original game is something broken, something “outdated”. People will throw out the statement that the original’s combat “aged badly” as if it was something that needed to be fixed but actually playing the game it’s laughable at how this couldn’t be further from the truth. Every punch every kick has an oomph to it, and each heavy attack has this satisfying sound when your hits connect; although it’s more a question of if your hits connect because despite crafting up a combat system that’s still very enjoyable, there are inevitably a few shortcomings which hold it back from reaching the heights that it can, although maybe I’m just spoiled by later entries as even Yakuza 2 was a step up in this regard, with every entry after it slowly perfecting the combat, and subsequently elevating the legend of the Dragon of Dojima itself, and that is exactly why Yakuza is a game that shouldn’t be overlooked.

It’s easy to look at the bombastic stories of later entries like 0 and think the first game is tame by comparison but what Yakuza lacks in its set pieces, it more than makes up for with a narrative that’s just as enthralling as today as it was in 2005. It’s this game’s very simplicity that raises this entry by a significant margin, it’s a tale about two men who are done running from their problems. This is their destiny, any regrets they carry is baggage that will always weigh them down yet they keep moving onward, they keep moving towards each other. The Koi will shed everything to become the Dragon, even if it means hurting what it once held close. There’s no going back. They can only go forward.

𝗧𝗢 𝗟𝗜𝗩𝗘 𝗜𝗦 𝗧𝗢 𝗡𝗢𝗧 𝗥𝗨𝗡 𝗔𝗪𝗔𝗬.

𝐈𝐍 𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐅𝐔𝐑𝐓𝐇𝐄𝐒𝐓 𝐑𝐄𝐀𝐂𝐇𝐄𝐒 𝐎𝐅 𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐇𝐔𝐌𝐀𝐍 𝐂𝐀𝐏𝐀𝐁𝐈𝐋𝐈𝐓𝐘, 𝐀𝐍𝐘𝐎𝐍𝐄 𝐂𝐀𝐍 𝐁𝐄𝐂𝐎𝐌𝐄 𝐀 𝐁𝐄𝐀𝐒𝐓.


There's a cheapness in the thrill of being on the verge of death. Risking something as valuable as life itself just to get a kick out of it is really the dumbest thing a human can do; then why is that an hour in I was feeling that exact same rush? In the cold comfort of it being fictional, having my heart pound with excitement as I put these people in harm’s way, there’s nothing quite like it.

The thing about Your Turn To Die is that the premise in of itself isn’t really unique. Completely ignoring the obvious comparisons one could make to that one video game franchise with the talking bear, “death game” as a genre is something that’s existed long before many of us were even alive. That is exactly how this game deceives you, making you think that what you’re about to experience is a by-the-numbers tale you’ve experienced many times before; but to chalk up Your Turn to Die as that is to box it in a cage that’s completely ignorant of the bigger picture. Because underneath this game’s bleak atmosphere is a tale of the exploration of the human condition, as it’s seeking an answer for why we do the things we do by putting us on the cusp of death. In a way, it's exactly what you've come to expect from experiencing the contemporaries of this sub-genre yet that's why this game works as well as it does, why it's willing to go the extra mile.

The level of deception this game operates on isn’t just something that exists in regards to the way of how it presents itself to the player or the narrative in of itself, it extends to game mechanics themselves. Whereas one could see the way every choice in Chapter 1 being inconsequential as cheap, I view it as a mockery of your abilities. To fully make you realise just how out of your depth you are here, which only serves to make the later chapters hit as hard as they do due to the newfound resolve you earn at the end of Chapter 1 earns you the right to change the course of the game both narratively and mechanically. It’s character development in the truest sense, where the effects are felt in also how you play the game, as second guessing becomes natural for you; it's not out of need to survive yet due to a want to protect those you hold closest to you, even if it means not having complete faith in them.

The character of Sara Chidouin in many ways feels combative against many other protagonists who’ve been placed in similar situations to her. It’s the same old tale of heroism, morality and hope. Trying to be an example even in the roughest of times yet Chidouin is deeply human. “I don’t want to die” is understandable sure, but sprouting up the same old message about “truth” seems to feel redundant when it’s going to deeply hurt the ones you care for. This is why Keiji Shinogi works so well with her, easy to see him as this game’s stand-in for a Maya Fey archetype, a policeman who can’t even hold a gun, but here the effectiveness of these two depends solely upon how much trust they place in each other. Their trust weaponizes itself, as it takes Sara being the finger and Keiji ironically being the gun in their dynamic to let them move past any difficulty they may face, and they may have faced, letting them grow with each passing argument. With the arguments themselves being mechanically comparable to the trial segments in Ace Attorney. While not as complex or difficult, it sets itself apart with it’s own mechanics, trying to bite further down into your mind as it makes every line thrilling. It’s exactly what the character of Sara Chidouin would do, and that’s what sets this apart from the rest. That every lie, misinformation, contradiction and even truth the itself is irrelevant; it’s completely irrelevant if she can’t even save one life.

Your Turn To Die breaks down those concepts of heroism, morality and hope I mentioned, but not out of cynicism. It goes to greats lengths to reconstruct them from the ground up; showing why such childishness and stubbornness is necessary for you to keep moving forward. Everyone’s got a reason to live and with each passing trial you have to wonder if death would be preferable, if it’d be better if you died in their place to make sure your hands stay clean, but thoughts like that are irrelevant. You still live, you still breathe, you still eat, you still sleep, so what’s the harm in living in another day?

It’s not Your Turn To Die. Not yet.

My darling son...

I feel like there's a popular opinion about Dragon Quest as a series that's been spread by word of mouth and thought of as true by many, many of whom have not even played a single game in the series. I guess it's similar to the "Superman is boring" opinion, where it's spouted the loudest by those who have not experienced the thing they're thinking negatively of. In my case, it's not like I knew of this opinion before I played Dragon Quest XI; my decision to do that was very random. But I became aware of this notion as I told my friend about me starting the game, to which he asked

"Isn't Dragon Quest really basic though?"

From its sea blue skies and bright green meadows, I think Dragon Quest XI enchants you very easily. It's a word that's been beaten to death, but I think the description of charming absolutely applies to this game. There's a sense of wonder that's felt when exploring this game's world that's first given to you when you venture out from your town for the very first time. Big-budget AAA games try to sell you this feeling, but always feel hollow whereas this game succeeds easily. Really it all happens due to the fact that Dragon Quest XI's world isn't massive, it's not even really all that big. It feels more condensed, with all the major cities in the world having huge distance between them, with roads that are filled to the brim with monsters on which you can experiment this game's battle system on. The battle system itself is really something that's super simple to pick up, to the point where you'll fool yourself into thinking that it's devoid of any depth but that's not really the case. You'd think a game like this would be extremely reliant on grinding to get you through most of your roadblocks, but every tough boss I faced in this game was almost always solved by just switching up my strategy and nothing more. Truth be told, I grinded very little in this game but I initially struggled on boss fights as I'd also convinced myself that there was very little meat in regards to combat, and when I easily plowed through the boss after I just simply switched out party members, I was pleasantly surprised.

The narrative of Dragon Quest XI is something I struggle to form a solid opinion on. On one hand, it's like I'm in a fantasy book and seeing every part of this world. On the other, it's just bloat. I guess that's one thing this and Persona 5 have in common, where I think that this game really loves to pad out its run time by you solving the problems of EVERY town you encounter like you're a for-sale handyman. Despite how unsatisfied I sound, for the most part, I don't think this really is a huge issue, as some plotlines (like the one about the mermaid) can be really great. Although it really does make me wonder that in this 60-hour game, how much of it was really necessary? Although I think my feelings on this regard really start dimming when I stop thinking of this as a normal narrative when the approach this game is going for is much more in line with an epic. Much like Journey to the West, you're there for the hero's birth and you're there when he receives his call to action; the goal of the protagonist is simple in nature, and the main bulk of the narrative focuses on his exploits. In the case of Dragon Quest XI, I really can't say I was really invested all the time by every single new plotline this game shoved in my face as it's all too...basic?

I really did think for most of my playtime that there was really nothing memorable here for me, but for some reason, after the final battle with Mordegon I felt a little bit sad that it was over. Maybe people were right about this franchise being basic, but I'm not really gonna let myself get caught up in that mindset when this is only my first game in the franchise. Really glad I played this one, it's given me a deeper appreciation for the genre as a whole. As for the post-game, I'll review it on its own in a few days. For now, all I can really say is

...to be continued.

Good visuals and a hard hitting soundtrack coalesce into a game that can only be described as a vibe. I continue my Ace Combat journey as I play the sequel

I described the first game's visual design as "simple" but Ace Combat 2 is a really vibrant game. You'll go from snowy mountains to a rocky desert, or fly over the cold blue sea in what feels like a cold winter day and the game's vibrant colours so a great job of immersing you in the world as you fight off this enemy invasion.

Guys...I did it. I finally changed the controller layout from Novice to Expert!!! I don't know if the first game had it but the expert layout gives you much better control over the plane that I'm surprised it's not the standard. The gameplay is pretty similar to the first one but it is better, as for the levels themselves I think only a few levels in this game irked me due to their design not being great. Sometimes the target would be around too tight a corner or be smack dab behind a narrow passageway. This game also has less levels than the last one, which wouldn't be an issue but this game also has way few choices in what levels you want to approach. The last level was also unfortunately a bit of a let down, I still think the first game's final enemy slowly coming into your view with that ominous music in the background far outshines this game's lackluster finale.

Oh yeah the soundtrack? It's stellar. Never did I expect that jazz would go so well with blowing up airplanes but here we are. Being locked into firefights with enemy planes as you both desperately try your best to destroy each other while hard rock music plays just pumps you up. It really is something you have to play for yourself to experience.

Ace Combat 2 is a fun time, definitely better than its predecessor I'd say. I'm curious to see what the remake is like, but I'm sure it won't match the original. Anyways, time to enter the Electrosphere.

I feel second hand embarrassment that a 5-minute web browser game that was made as a vent game has garnered so much attention with people trying to critique it as if it's a real product, or as is the case with any review site, the one-line joke reviews

Gonna steal this one from my friend, but writing about how this game "didn't resonate" with you is the equivalent of your friend detailing their feelings to you, and you look them dead in the eyes and say "Hmm, you seem to be getting your life back together. I must dock 2 points! The narrative has become severely uninteresting."

It's okay to let your feelings out in an unconventional way because some people fundamentally struggle with communicating them normally; who gives a fuck if people relate or "get it". Best thing you can do is lend an ear, offer support, and move on

Hope the creator is having a good day today

One of the sadder things I’ve realised recently is that the original Fallout may not be as influential as much as it’s made it out to be, at least when it comes down to its mechanics. But I’m no real historian, and it may very well have changed the world of RPGs forever. Still, I don’t think it really matters because at the end of the day this is still a damn good game.

Four years ago I played this game for the first time and finished it in one sitting, and recently I ventured out to the wasteland once again. Shining blue spandex, bright hot sun, searching for a water chip; it all feels too familiar. Ah, that control scheme…it feels clunky but once you get the hang of its fits this game like a glove. Fast and snappy, perfect for that retro-future aesthetic. Still, I can’t deny I’ve ever particularly liked how this game’s combat is. Nothing horribly wrong with it, but often times it feels too static, like I’m playing a board game with a computer that’s determined to kill me. Probably what they were going for too.

Stopped by Shady Sands, and gave birth to a nation there. Went to Vault 15, and I saw ruins. Ran into the Khans, and slaughtered them all. Headed to Necropolis to give the mutants dirt naps, and saved my vault. Strolled into Junktown for the casino and killed the owner; I left as quietly as I came. Stopped by The Hub for the water, and stayed to help uncover the disgusting truth behind both the missing caravans and those delicious Iguana Bits. Ran into The Brotherhood of Steel; they told me to fuck off. I saved Los Angeles for last, and it was as much a shithole as I had expected.

After you get the water chip, the last half is really unsettling. You feel that there’s an imminent evil heading into this world as you encounter these monsters more and more. As you spend hours upon hours searching for a man you assume to be the devil himself, you grow accustomed to the hell that is this world. Despite being coddled at birth, you make this wasteland yours. And by the time meet the creator of this madness, it really just does feel like a Wednesday in this irradiated world. This game is absurdly funny, not only with its writing and critiques of American culture but right down to the game design itself with the funniest bit being that the thing you spent the last half searching for is just straight left. Haha, all that work for something so simple.

I hated the Overseer four years ago. Really thought of him as nothing more than an ungrateful speck of a man. But today, as I blew up that evil lair and saw everything that my actions wrought and how I changed this world forever, I stood in front of that cold metal door wearing dark green combat armor and a rocket launcher in hand. There, I saw myself. I saw a man in shining blue spandex walking up to someone he just doesn’t recognize anymore. He is confused now as I was in the beginning, he just doesn’t understand and I now realize where he’s coming from. I could hear the fear in his voice, fear of this horrible world that just sucks.


What if we ARE the only safe place in the world? You just gave us back all these lives…I can’t take the chance of losing them.

I’m sorry. You’re a hero…and you have to leave.


You walk alone. Into this heartless, cruel, unforgiving world. Shining blue spandex, bright hot sun, searching for a purpose. You found it one day, but long after your death, another evil arose. Don’t worry, another hero just like you saved us again.