Shenmue III Review: 10 Ups & 6 Downs

8. It's The Economy, Stupid

In the first Shenmue, Ryo had it easy. Though obviously grieving over the murder of his father, to the extent he put his entire life on hold to embark upon a folly of vengeance, the blow is softened somewhat by his housekeeper providing him with a bequeathed per diem each morning. Eventually, he's forced to get a real job, but is sacked after a week for being such a trouble causer.

In Shenmue II, Hong Kong dollars aren't handed to you every day, and the player must work for a living. So tedious are the jobs on offer - one of them is literally standing still and shouting 'Lucky Hit?' at passersby - that the best option, always, is to bet the house in a high-stakes gambling den, save-scrubbing until the favourable dice roll up.

It works, but it is ultimately, like this writer, an inelegant hack. Shenmue III manages to fix this, with an economy which rewardingly ties everything in the game together. Yes, the jobs are still tedious (and for some reason, Ryo stands on a turntable to chop wood), but any earnings can be converted to gambling tokens, which themselves can be redeemed for prizes. Those prizes? They're sold for big profit in pawn shops.

Every item, then - and there are a lot, all meticulously realised and carrying faintly ridiculous descriptions - has value. Money is crucial not just for daily expenses, but buying Kung Fu moves. Herbs gathered around the game's green belts can be traded for huge profit, and those capsule toys - once just for novelty - are good for free scrolls, provided you've a full set. Sure, there's something a little odd about lugging five Buddha statues and a painting of a boy holding a bottle of vinegar around, but in a game where narrative is key, it's good to know Ryo's distractions now serve a purpose.