Hell, if I could throw my Italian leather wallet in a toilet, I would. I can eat the most expensive sashimi platter for lunch. As a big, bad former Yakuza man, I can buy the best whiskey as many times as I want. I even got a trophy for watching a softcore VHS, where a bikini-clad girl innocently squirmed on a vinyl chair, batting eyelashes at the camera. Yakuza 0 allows me to drown in excess with none of the consequences. It’s managing my businesses, playing the UFO catcher for too long and eating every single item the game has to offer. I’m not particularly interested in the redemption of my characters or their personal developments. But the best parts aren’t in the main story or even the sights - it’s everything else you’re allowed to do. The fake food displays in the windows, the tattered signs that point to a six-person bar tucked away behind the main roads. Split between fictional districts of Tokyo and Osaka, the level of detail in every nook and cranny of these towns is astounding. In alternating chapters of Yakuza 0, ex-Yakuza protagonists Kiryu Kazuma and Majima Goro play out their respective stories of testing the limits of loyalty and redemption. If you’re like me, hitmen be damned, you go to a restaurant and order everything on the menu.
Things take a turn for the worse, and now the Japanese mafia are after you.
You’re on your way to a club until you find out someone’s framed you for murder. It’s 1988 and you’re weaving through clouds of smoke in a back alley, neon karaoke signs buzzing overhead.
0 kommentar(er)
