Judgment swerves Yakuza's circuitous criminal conspiracies a few degrees off course before turning up at familiar intersections of violence, eccentricity, and drama. Novelties surrounding its private detective facade, however, breakdown into tests of patience instead of pragmatism. Judgment may be an honest amendment to Yakuza's doctrine but its most refined and exciting practices are also its most routine.
Yakuza’s Kamurocho is a seedy slice of Tokyo that grants meteoric elevation to charisma, coercion, and capacity for violence, but only to one person at a time. For ten games—seven core entries, two remakes, and one imprudent spin-off—this power was devoted to Yakuza’s infallible protagonist, Kazuma Kiryu. Others tried to assume that power, Yakuza 5 juggled five active protagonists, but the focus always drifted back to Kiryu. Judgment, the latest in the Yakuza world from Ryu Ga Gotoku Studio, does not feature Kiryu. Or anyone else from Yakuza. Anywhere. The power of Kamurocho is finally left for someone else to assume.
Judgment is neither a wild departure like Binary Domain nor a budget-minded joyride like Fist of the Northstar: Lost Paradise, but rather an honest attempt at forging new characters with fresh motivations in a familiar setting. And, most importantly, without the decades of baggage that piled up with each Yakuza game’s menacing, serpentine plot. Judgment retains Kamurocho, Yakuza’s aforementioned playground of the damned, as well as the general flow and structure unique to Sega’s most culturally-present series. Judgment funnels players through thirteen chapters of a deathly serious narrative while surrounding them with scores wildly absurd diversions in a compact open-world. A flashy and sophisticated combat system blend to the two systems together. Judgment is a path for Yakuza, and Ryu Ga Gotoku Studio, to continue in the absence of its timeworn star.
Takayuki Yagami, Judgment’s protagonist, has never been involved in organized crime. Not officially, anyway. Despite being raised by the patriarch of the Matsugane family, Yagami played it straight and finished law school at the behest of his co-mentor, Ryuzo Genda. He obtained a job at Genda’s law firm, however, it went sour when a defendant Yagami acquitted of a crime was later implicated in murdering his girlfriend. Yagami, shaken by the incident, stopped practicing law and started a private detective agency.
Judgment opens three years later with a thirty-five-year-old Yagami and his ex-Matsugane family partner, Kaito, doing their best to clear the name of a high-ranking member of the Matsugane family, Kyohei Hamura. It’s implied that Yagami is perpetually haunted by his actions from his time as a lawyer, and he regularly wrestles with the morality of defending clients that are (probably!) guilty. A crisis of conscience is red meat for Lawyer Drama to feed upon, but Judgment doesn’t spend much time psychoanalyzing Yagami’s motivations. As the player-character in Japanese role-playing game, it is assumed that, despite any acknowledged flaws, Yagami will ultimately choose to act in the most virtuous way imaginable.
Like Kiryu, Yagami is a man who can do anything. He can follow Judgment’s plot and work out connections between the Matsugane family, the Japanese Ministry of Health, and an unusually well-funded research hospital. He can also lend his talents to one hundred eclectic side missions dispersed in Kamurocho over the course of Judgment’s thirteen chapters. There were times when I wondered why the development team didn’t just decide to make Kiryu a burned-out lawyer—he’s been a cab driver, a ultra-landlord, and an orphanage director—but, by often caring too little instead of too much, Yagami succeeds in creating a distinctive persona inside the legend of Kamurocho. There are, as it turns out, different routes to reforming masters of violence.
It is ironic that Judgment gets into the most trouble with the features it most needs. Beating the holy screaming crap out of people remains a powerful backbone, but its nervous system is a collection of new and remodeled ideas to play up and develop the detective motif. Yagami can stealthily follow people around town, expressed with a Spook Meter, safe observation points, and a Where’s Waldo?-style challenge if the target leaves your line of sight. Judgment also borrows Yakuza’s QTE-adjacent chase sequences, forcing Yagami to run people down all over town. Neither one of these is fun—most games abandoned similar objectives and mechanics a generation ago—and Judgment engages in both constantly. Don’t be surprised to find Yagami stalking and chasing the same mark in the same mission.
Judgment also tries to create separation with its crime scene investigations. These sequences lock Yagami in a first-person point-of-view in a limited section of an environment. Examining off-kilter objects—a weird looking bag of trash, an odd choice of shoes on a suspect, a keycard on a body—vibrates the controller and prompts the player to press R2 for a closer look. Once all satisfactory observations are obtained, the investigation ends. These sequences boil down to adventure game mechanics where you’re effectively hunting for dubious art assets. Difficulty is only present when (optionally) locating a cat that is delightfully meowing in some obscure area in every single crime scene.
Investigations build Case Files, which are Judgment’s core operating thesis. Case Files in the pause menu contain all relevant data to the game’s sweeping narrative, and the player is intended to keep up with all collected evidence. It manifests when Yagami is ready to either question a new witness or accuse a potential suspect; pictures of evidence scroll across the top of the screen and it’s up to the player to suggest the most relevant piece. Doing this in succession earns extra experience points for Yagami. Getting one wrong doesn’t fail the case, but it makes Yagami look like a huge dumbass as he scrambles for an excuse.
Yagami has a few more tricks in his bag. Because it’s 2019 he has a drone, which can be deployed to spy through windows in high-rise buildings. The drone can also be used, optionally, to pick up crafting materials left in window sills. Yagami is also adept at picking locks, necessitating Judgment to come up with two different lock-picking mini-games. I don’t know anyone who’s particularly excited about lock-picking, but the precision demanded by these sequences, at least, keeps them engaging. Lastly Yagami can also pull out a series of disguises when he needs to conceal his identity. The funny thing is which disguise doesn’t appear to matter, leaving me to choose the hilarious vampire outfit every time.
Like Yakuza, Judgment is evenly divided between its engrossing storyline and its social-media-exploding side-missions. The most immediately present opportunities are fifty unique Friendship Events. Yagami will meet someone out in Kamurocho—restaurant owners, Poppo cashiers, small business owners, goobers on the street—and strike up a friendship. Participating in their designated objectives (patronizing businesses, kicking the ass of a guy who couldn’t order his desired steak at Kanrai, getting wasted to give a hostess at Apple Pie tuition money) fills a friendship meter. Once that meter is complete, some friends will show up to assist Yagami in street brawls while others, like the manager of Wild Jackson, will toss Yagami a bottle of hot sauce to shake in his opponent’s eyes. It’s the latter that exhibits the series’ beloved singularity and Judgment thrives in those opportunities.
Fifty Side Cases make up the other half of Judgment’s extracurricular activities. Gathered at Tender Bar, Genda Law Office, Yagami’s Office, or out in Kamurocho, Side Cases are typically more complex than Friendship Events. Side Cases also involve ghost investigations, beating up garish perverts, providing cover for a poorly-behaving hack actor, dealing with marital infidelity, and chasing a super hero’s toupee across town. Fighting, chase missions, investigations, following people; Side Cases draw from the same reservoir of objectives as Judgment’s main story. They reward the player with a truckload of cash and but they’re intended to act as relief from an otherwise momentous plot line.
The main story path, Friendship Events, and Side Cases all contribute points toward Yagami’s skill bank. The player can use these points to add combo chains, evasion techniques, and EX move-extensions to Yagami’s two fighting styles. Points can also be used to making following people, picking locks, and consuming alcohol all a bit easier. Weirdly, Judgment gates a few of the more attractive skills—such as the prized Tiger Drop counter—behind QR codes hidden on posters around Kamurocho. On the default difficulty Judgment’s main story path was the easiest I’ve played in Yakuza game, leaving most combat options as flourishes best enjoyed by professionals.
Judgment always returns to fighting as its primary means of solving conflict. It’s still a beat ’em up role-playing game, at heart. Yagami features two distinct fighting styles. Crane style, which is rambunctious and roundhouse-heavy for dealing with groups and Tiger style, which favors fists and is better suited toward executing power moves on a single foe. Between the two are the usual facets of Yakuza combat; fast steps left and right, multi-hit combo chains that can branch off in myriad directions, and specialist power moves that behave like fighting game commands. As a modern brawler, Judgment is more precise and specialized than a Musou game but not as demanding and exacting as Devil May Cry. With a selection of difficulty options, Judgment makes it easy to feel powerful.
Judgment also seems a bit more liberal with its powered-up attacks. Known as EX moves, it’s an evolution of Yakuza’s heat mechanic where persistent play builds a meter that can be tapped for special attacks. If an enemy is on the ground, being held, or in any other contextually appropriate area, Yagami can dish out a cinematically-satisfying attack that would almost certainly require plastic surgery to correct. The EX Gauge can also be tapped to power-up Yagami with an EX Boost, essentially allowing the player to unload viscous combo strings without interruption. Materials are also scattered all over Kamurocho, which Yagami can bring to a shaman friend and generate expensive consumable buff potions (because why not).
EX actions are to Judgment as fatalities are to Mortal Kombat. Close to half the reason some people play these games are to witness whatever insanity Ryu Ga Gotoku Studio can conjure next. In Judgment you can deposit goons into a passing limousine and watch as they ride off into certain doom. You can knock someone into a daze in Third Park, get on the children’s swing, then super kick them with a mega-swing before nailing a crane-style landing. You can Sub Zero-slide into a group of guys and then reverse helicopter-kick them into oblivion. EX actions are a mountain of creativity dedicated to ridiculous violence and each one is a treat.
A major change to combat is introduced with semi-permanent damage to the health bar. Bosses performing their super moves or lackeys firing pistols irreparably chips off part of the health bar. This can be solved by visiting Akiyama’s old Yakuza 6 haunt in the Children’s Park sewer and paying an exorbitant amount of money to get patched up (or even more money for medical kits to take on the go). Given Judgment’s relatively easy difficulty and masher-friendly combat styles, playing for keeps with the health bar stands as a substantial and meaningful change to basic combat.
The rationale for Yagami fighting everyone in Kamurocho stretches belief, but only slightly. The usual assortment of punks test patience, but sometimes out-of-town gang leaders invade and ratchet up the encounter rate until they’re dismissed. These guys function close to the Majima Everywhere mechanic of Yakuza Kiwami, favoring more challenging one-on-one boss fights over the constant beating of ass Yakuza protagonists are forced to provide and endure. Judgment still probably has too many fights and it’s tough to rationalize Yagami’s conscience when he has easily put a thousand people in a hospital, but as random encounters for practice and a slight experience boost, it remains functional.
Judgment also shares Yakuza’s penchant for becoming an omnibus of interactive content. There are five courses and a grand prix of drone races and a ton of crafting materials to collect and upgrade your drone. There are four women to text and date, each with distinct personalities and extended sub-quests. QR cards are hidden all over Kamurocho. There’s a virtual reality board game that I barely understand and refuse to play again. Darts, the batting cage, casino games, shogi, pinball, and mahjong all return from past Yakuza games. Eating every item at every restaurant is expected. Judgment operates with the Omni Game Principle where every successive single player game must carry forward the glut of content introduced by its predecessors. Most of it is, mercifully, optional.
Two Club Sega locations continue Shemue’s legacy of housing old and obscure Sega arcade titles. Fantasy Zone, Puyo Puyo, Space Harrier and Virtua Fighter 5: Final Showdown return from past Yakuza games. Fighting Vipers and Motor Raid are brand new and showcase the beauty of Sega’s Model 2 arcade hardware. The former has enjoyed competent releases on Saturn and the last generation of consoles, but Motor Raid—which plays like a futuristic arcade version of Road Rash—has never been ported to anything and stands as one of Judgment’s better surprises. There’s also Kamurocho of the Dead, an original House of the Dead-inspired five-level light-gun game where you pop off zombies on the streets of Kamurocho (and it plays considerably easier than Scarlett Dawn, House of the Dead’s 2018 arcade release).
Somewhere around Yakuza 0, the series’ tireless and sharp localization entered a kind of legendary status in gaming circles. Judgment continues to direct proper context at otherwise alien facets of Japanese culture and go completely nuts with side-mission dialogue, which, for a game with frequent twenty minute cut-scenes and more extraneous dialogue than you can imagine, is a mountain of quality work. Judgment is also the first time a Yakuza game has been dubbed in english since the series debuted in 2006. I played the second half with the dub and was pleased with how well vocal tics, speaking cadence, and tones of voice transferred to the cast of characters. It’s still weird to hear an entirely Japanese cast speaking perfect english in the heart of Tokyo, but it’s a wonderful option for people who prefer a familiar language.
The necessity of Judgment was a question I wrestled with for the fifty hours I spent playing Judgment. As a technical achievement, employing myriad existing assets into a game that operates like 90% of a game I have already played ten times isn’t especially impressive. As a chance to return to a world I have spent hundreds of hours playing (and thousands of words writing about), Judgment is invaluable. It can feel cheap and expensive at the same time, and whatever side of the line you fall on reflects your personal investment in the series. Judgment is great if you’ve never played Yakuza or if you’ve played every Yakuza, but only if you can’t get enough Yakuza. It’s not going (and I don’t know that it’s trying) to convert players who did not enjoy any of the other games.
In the absence of a beloved cast, Judgment begins the process of Ryu Ga Gotoku Studio connecting players to the city of Kamurocho instead of any particular character. I don’t know if we’ll see Yagami again or if he’ll drift into obscurity with Masayoshi Tanimura and Tatsuo Shinada. It doesn’t especially matter. The hope is that you’ll play these in games to find how Kamurocho has changed and how it has remained the same. I know this fake-city-based-on-a-real-city better than I know parts of my actual city. Through trust earned over the last decade, even when I can feel some of the Judgment’s ideas weren’t their best, I’ll come back any time.
Judgment swerves Yakuza’s circuitous criminal conspiracies a few degrees off course before turning up at familiar intersections of violence, eccentricity, and drama. Novelties surrounding its private detective facade, however, breakdown into tests of patience instead of pragmatism. Judgment may be an honest amendment to Yakuza’s doctrine but its most refined and exciting practices are also its most routine.
