I’m only four chapters into Yakuza 3 and I’d already die for dad Kazuma Kiryu. Forget storming in on clan meetings, saving sworn brothers from manhunts, and going on the run to fix a disgruntled family’s messy politics—this series shines like never before when Kiryu is raising nine kids, cooking curry, and taming stray dogs. It shines so brightly that I’d happily play a whole game of Kiryu running a little orphanage, popping into the city every now and then to pick up some groceries and find runaways far away from the criminal underworld that first defined him.
It’s a welcome change of pace from the frantic action of previous games that saw Kiryu scrambling round Kamurocho in search of bombs, fist-fighting previously dead Chairmen, and wailing on Goro Majima in underground wrestling matches. Now he’s in a Hawaiin shirt lapping it up on a tropical island with his kids and, shockingly, he’s a great dad.
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One of his sons was being bullied at school so he rooted out the culprit and brought him to justice. He even goes golfing with a politician. And yeah, I suck at golf, but anything for my kids. There’s so much soul to these quieter moments because Kiryu truly cares about his family. We’ve seen him passionate and determined before, but this is different, like raising these kids strikes a whole new chord that brings out his true self. Turns out the tenets of honour that come with being a yakuza transfer over pretty damn well to parenthood. Kiryu understands right and wrong, and transfers that mantra onto the orphanage.
When you think Yakuza, you probably don’t think cutesy. Over the past few weeks I’ve blasted through the series with my partner watching on, and when Kiryu announced
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