The Indie Informer

“Push any button to begin your redemption.” If that’s not a way to start a video game, I don’t know what is. The great thing is it’s not just a brilliant line. It’s a fantastic introduction to the Promise Mascot Agency experience. There are a lot of ridiculously good callouts to make (and I will below), but what makes this game outstanding is the absurdity wraps around a solid-gold center of genuine sincerity.

Promise Mascot Agency‘s heroes, whether a severed finger/fairy or disgraced ex-Yakuza member, legitimately want to make a better world for the people they care about. This audacious nobility colors every ludicrous situation I’ve found myself in so far. Bargaining with supernatural — and super cute — beings for commercial gain? Breaking every driving law to get across the map and rescue a family of lost kittens? Plotting to overtake a small local government? It’s all to save the ones I love.

We begin just where I like to, smack-dab in the middle of Yakuza political intrigue. Our protagonist, Michizane Sugawara AKA The Janitor, is quickly built up as a strong, loyal, ruthless, and empathetic first lieutenant of the lower-level Shimazu family. Though under threat by powerful rivals and tightening anti-crime laws, the matriarch is on the verge of completing a once-in-a-lifetime deal.

Things don’t go as planned. In a beautifully classic showdown between professional duty and personal devotion, Michizane suffers the consequences and shoulders the burden of salvaging what’s left of his family’s honor. The narrative swirls magnificently into gameplay, as I carry the urgent need to succeed and help this unusual protagonist protect everything he holds dear. That means I have to make money.

With sincerity taking a bow and cedeing the spotlight, it’s time for absurdity to jump to center stage. The only way I can make the money I need is by building up a failed mascot agency. It’s my job to recruit, negotiate with, manage, and guide cute characters in our quest to promote local businesses. Staying on theme, for some reason, all traveling is done via a slightly amphibious truck. This has the hilarious result of the the gameplay veering wildly between crashing speed derby and management sim. The level of “why not?” here is impeccable.

By the time I’ve lured a few mascots — who, according to the game’s lore, are actual spiritual entities made living flesh — into my enterprise, I realize I’ve been duped. The game’s ridiculous outer layer has always been a facade. I come to care for the crumbling city I’m now stuck in. I care that a lone conductor is waiting for the trains to return. I care that an idol-loving civil servant will do anything to help the town. I care that the stranded teacher desperately struggles to educate its children.

While I wasn’t looking, Promise Mascot Agency morphed from a laugh-laden lark into a serious endeavor to save the world with the power of conviction. I haven’t rolled credits, but I can’t let the citizens of this zany and heartfelt world down by stopping before everything is set right.