i dunno, let's keep this quick. to say it's a bit clumsy is an understatement - and there are certainly aspects of the overall narrative i struggle with - but the depths of its sincerity won me over. i have no particular attachment to yakuza 7 either, and in fact i find much of that game to be very awkward, stilted, and grating so ultimately no one's more stunned than myself here.

when it's not luxuriating in this chilled-out ocean's twelve vibe which i loved, infinite wealth is written with far more intentionality and consideration than most entries in the series; while one might accuse of it of verging on threadbare or cloying for its strict emphasis on theme, i think the game trusts its audience to take some of the emotional leaps necessary to make the storytelling work. character writing for the leads and the party members has seen a dramatic improvement across the board. ichiban as usual brings a lot of levity to the table - thankfully none of it quite as irritating in the zany sense as 7 liked to employ - but kiryu's portions of the game are comparatively sobering. collecting memoirs has a weird psychological effect at times but the series has earned the right to do this by this point given how much of the kiryu saga can feel siloed or compartmentalized - in the same vein as gaiden, the game almost damns him for this, for never taking a chance to stop and reflect, for the consequences of his interminable martyr complex

that tendency to bury the past is only contrasted further by infinite wealth being maybe the most direct sequel the series has seen yet - the events of that game are still fresh in everyone's mind and sets the stage for the overarching conflict and everyone's investment in said conflict. it's a surprisingly natural extension of a lot of 7's themes, and i found it worked better for me this time. 7 often felt more gestural than anything else - to me it balanced far too much as this metaphorical (and literal) tearing down of the old ways, handling the introduction of a new protagonist, paying lipservice to series veterans and setting up parallels to the original ryu ga gotoku. infinite wealth to me feels more fully-formed, more confident; i think the team was able to use this title's unique hook and premise to really bring the most out of 7s promise of something new, and it could only have achieved it by taking the time to reflect on the past.

to this end: they made the game a JRPG this time, that counts for something. and not just a JRPG but one that feels as close to traditional RGG action as possible. some excellent systems this time with a lot of fascinating interplay and the level curve is fantastic. not necessary to sum up all the changes, you've seen them, but they really promote a lot of dynamic decision-making with respect to positioning and once you figure out how status effects can correlate with them you feel like your third eye's opening. very fond memories here of navigating around a crowd of enemies - some of whom have been put to sleep - and figuring out how best to maximize damage without waking anyone drowsy up. lots more strategy and enjoyment to be had here than pretty much anywhere in 7.

that said, i know RGG prides themselves on the statistics relating to players completing their titles, but they could really afford to take a few more risks with enemy waves in the main campaign. i felt like my most interesting encounters were usually street bosses or main story bosses, but the main campaign's filled with trash mobs. and i'm not saying every fight has to be some tactician's exercise - in fact i think that's the opposite of what people actually would enjoy - but i really wish the game took the time to play around even more with positioning. there are some exciting scenarios in the game that are too few and far in-between. stages that split up the party, encounters with unique mechanics...would really liked to have seen more in that vein.

some extra notes - would like to dig a bit deeper into the strengths of the narrative as well as some additional hangups but i can't be assed to write more
- honolulu's great, it gets probably a little too big for its own good but it's a real breath of fresh air for most of the game
- yamai is the best new character they've introduced in years
- dondoko island feels like a classic yakuza minigame in the best possible way, might even represent the apex of this kind of design. not obscenely grindy but just something casual and comfortable with enough layers to dig into without being overwheming and enough versatility to express yourself. shame you can't really say the same for sujimon!
- kiryu's party is disarmingly charming and they have some insanely good banter
- despite what some have said, i think this is a good follow-up to gaiden. it's not explicit about it but this is still very much a reckoning with kiryu's character and his mentality; it is every bit as concerned and preoccupied with the series mythos, the core ideas and conflicts driving a lot of installments
- honestly found the pacing to be on-par for the average RGG title if not better. i can concede that the dondoko island introduction was a bit too long but that is the most ground i can afford. if we can accept y5 into our hearts we can accept infinite wealth; IW makes y5 look deranged for its intrusiveness despite both titles occupying a similar length. if any of it registers as an actual problem, i think people would benefit from revisiting yakuza 7 to find it is almost exactly the same structurally if not worse
- IW is home to maybe the best needle drop in the medium
- played in japanese, like i usually do, so no real interest in commenting on the english dub since it's not real to me but i will say that what i listened to seemed like a bit of a step back from the dub quality in previous RGG games. yongyea isn't a convincing kiryu either and while i could be a bit more of a hater here all i will say is there is a STAGGERING whiplash involved in casting a guy like that as the lead in a game with themes like this. in a grouchier mood, i think it would genuinely be a bit difficult to look past this and it does leave me feeling sour, but ultimately the dub doesn't reflect my chosen means of engaging with the title and it never will
- what is difficult to look past is the game's DLC rollout, which arbitrarily gates higher difficulties, new game +, and a postgame dungeon. i acquired these through dubious means (which i highly recommend you also do) so i feel confident in saying they're really not at all worth the money unless you had a desire to spend more time in this world, but what a colossal and egregious failure to price it in this fashion. new game + specifically has tons of bizarre issues that make me believe a revision of some kind was necessary.
- you will not regret downloading this mod that removes the doors in dungeons


long story short, ryu ga gotoku's journey began in 2005 with a simple motif: to live is to not run away. so much of infinite wealth is about taking that notion to its furthest extent. it couldn't have possibly hit at a better time for me. at times it might be a classic case of this series biting off a bit more than it can chew for a sequel, but i don't think there's anything you can reliably point to that would make me think this is one step forwards, two steps back.

also awesome to have a game that posits that hawaii is filled with the fire monks from elden ring and then you have to travel to the resident evil 4 island to beat them up

Feels like a JRPG made by people who have experienced the genre strictly through TV Tropes writeups. If it were developed by Americans, people would talk about it as though it were Doki Doki Literature Club.

There's a consistent tension in the game between shame about its stylistic heritage and a deep, paralyzing cowardice that keeps it loyal to it. This tension manifests in the story's insistence on being about a world, down to the constant availability of a lore encyclopedia, despite the complete irrelevance of any details of this world to the plot and its ultimate reliance on some of the most rote and formulaic character drama in the series. It's present in the faux-naturalism of mid-fight Marvel quips stuck between uncomplicated, cosmologically-correct monologues about human connections. It's clearly what's motivated the inclusion of empty open-world sections that divide up a linear action game paced around its levels being played one after the other: the game is willing to go to any lengths to avoid being called a hallway.

My favorite symbol of this tension, though, is game's repeated use of a minor key scale as background music: Prelude, but fucked up.

The main cast is completely disallowed any kind of personal complexity or ambiguity. Clive spends the earliest hours of the game denying a painful fact about himself, and this is the first and last display of personal weakness, selfishness, or any form of moral iniquity made by him or any other party member. Each of the rival summoners, by contrast, is given a designated sex thing: promiscuity, obsessiveness, and an Oedipus Complex, respectively. These traits serve as a kind of crude claim to maturity on the part of the game, and the characters to which they're attached are barely developed. No member of the cast rises above a broad archetypal characterization, and Clive himself is no exception, but the most insulting character's Jill. Her role in the story is to love Clive, which she does quietly and without demands. This is briefly interrupted by a revenge plot in which she kills an unambiguously evil cultist for having hurt her, and feels much better afterward. There's a scene in Final Fantasy IV in which the female party members are told by the lead to stay behind for their own safety while the men head to the final confrontation: naturally, they don't listen. In XVI, Jill is told the same thing and stays put.

Dialogue alternates between purely functional exposition and agonizing attempts at humor, with no real attempt to build distinct voices. I do have to give credit to the actor playing Clive, who is obviously trying to complicate very simple lines through his delivery, but it's a losing battle. The character animation is noticeably low-quality in comparison to the series' 6th and 7th generation entries.

The soundtrack is sterile, and the visual design never rises above the level of clean spectacular sightseeing. I can't speak much to the systems design, but interesting fights on normal difficulty are spread extremely thin and more or less only appear in optional content. Feels more like playing A Realm Reborn than any other single player RPG with which I'm familiar.

Healing isn't the same thing as removing pain.
It's the pleasure we earn as compensation for withstanding pain.
To know the joy of healing, you have to know the pain.
Be proud of your past suffering, they are what makes it possible for you to know pleasure.

Higanbana shows a crueler spins on various philosophies shown throughout When They Cry but in Ryukishi's conventional fashion, it is not cruelty for the sake of it.
Reaper of the 13th step and Before the Spider Lilies bloomed specifically are beautiful example of what it is to find joy and fulfilment in our suffering and are a beautiful showcase of what drives us.

I found Higanbana as a whole to be somewhat of a mixed bag but God did I connect with it, it reminded me once again that I value nothing more in medias than having a nice back and forth conversation with an author that I truly connect with, R07 never disappoints me in that regard no matter how floppy his writing can be at times.
If you've enjoyed WTC, I would consider this a must read.

no amount of words could possibly do enough justice. pure unhinged teenage profoundness. a masterclass in the culmination of elements from its inspirations. almost a parody of its pop-culture and on-rails influences, using them as a basis for both its sci-fi-action foundation and exceeding the player’s initial expectations. its face filled with complacency in admitting “yeah, we added a fully fledged cinematic-robo-socio-political narrative on top of the enigmatic disproportionately beautiful gameplay.” a blood-pumping, sharply concentrated soundtrack follows suit to wrap everything together into a somewhat messy package, but it’s an incredibly attractive and addicting package. confidently puts the “mecha” in mechanics.

The long drag of a cigarette beneath the city's smog, the urban firmament of glitzy neon signs illuminating a starless sky. Passersby are flagged down by salesmen trying to drag the drunk and the impressionable into hostess clubs, thugs crowd around shady alleyways and dingy dives, an evil eye aimed at any fool too brazen to wander too close. The city is an ecosystem all its own, a interconnected web of the unscrupulous and the downtrodden ensuring an uneasy system of checks and balances. Stand still and you will surely hear its heart beat.

The crowd gathers, and for a brief moment, the underworld deigns to show its belly to the world above. The sound of flesh meeting pavement, of skulls fracturing and limbs breaking, of glass shattering, bullets firing, the wails of a guitar, dirty and unrefined, as overconfident goons and gangsters punch above their weight class attempting to face the dragon as he tosses them aside like litter.

Yakuza is a filthy game, rough and weathered, a stark contrast to the polish of its successors in both sight and sound. It's a raw, intensely atmospheric game full of grungy guitars and rough characters, a game that seems to truly capture the feel of the streets: Quick. Dirty. Brutal, above all else. Without the bombast of microwaving someone's skull or over-the-top action movie antics, we're left with bottles stabbed into eyes, knives jabbed into guts, curb-stomps upon skulls and the desperate wailing of fists, a much more grounded attempt to capture the swift brutality of dirty street brawls.

Yakuza is a tale of blood money, of corruption, ruthlessness and the lingua franca of the fist. A story about the dangers of ambition, the follies of old men and their pride, the glitz and glamor of the criminal underworld, and the fate such a life seals for those who partake in it. The city of Kamurocho is a city that operates on the most primal of rules: Survival of the fittest. It's a city who's history is written in the blood of ruthless and told by those left standing at the end of it all. It's a hotspot for the hedonistic, and the eventual grave of those who've intertwined their fates with the enticing allure of the criminal lifestyle. It's a city with a bloodied history of urban warfare and shady backdoor politics it's waiting to tell.

Will you listen?