The Indie Informer

If Discounty is a sign of where the “cozy sim” is going, I’m thrilled for the genre’s future. On the surface, a familiar story of moving for new opportunities in a small town, its actual subject matter deals with systemic and societal consumerism. While scanning those new fish sticks I worked so hard to add to my burgeoning shop’s inventory, I was increasingly pondering whether there is any ethical consumption under capitalism. Nestled in its comfortable setting, my eventual conclusion hits harder than I expected.

It’s time to move away from the stresses and pressures of big city life and help out with the family business: A grocery store. My aunt — aptly named Tellar — has just started a new branch of the Discounty franchise, which is beginning to draw in customers thanks to the highway recently erected on the town’s outskirts.

The highway that brings me to my small town life is a wonderful piece of foreshadowing. In a very real sense, it is the lifeblood of my new enterprise — no one would have a reason to visit the sleepy village otherwise. However, as I step off the bus headed to my aunt’s home, I’m struck (metaphorically and almost physically) by a speeding car whose driver couldn’t care less about me. This road is simply a faster way to get from one place to the other, and that my body is in the way is a nuisance more than anything else. If you swap out my character in those last few sentences for a slowly decaying city, you have a subtle but unmistakable statement.

Of course, my brain slides right over this at first, comfortably settling into the rhythms of my daily routine. The store opens promptly at nine in the morning, whether I’m there or not. So, the pressure to get to work on time instead of building a relationship with the neighbors or investigating some unusual happening is intense. The gameplay during working hours is that of a satisfying supermarket sim. I have to order inventory, keep shelves stocked, clean sales-affecting spills, and check every shopper out with accuracy. If the in-game time didn’t already move faster by design, keeping everything balanced would make it fly by anyway.

With reward points offering better technology, more backpack space, and a wider range of enticing wares, it is worryingly easy to get sucked into the hustle. Which, of course, is a deft way to align the player with the protagonist. I got so deep into my role that I started dressing my character every morning in neatly coordinated Discounty uniforms, rather than the fun outfit I chose while making my character.

As the narrative began to darken, my schedule became so work-focused that I was using all my waking hours, including my day off, to manage the supermarket. I was even irritated when the game asked me to help a struggling local with a daily task, even though he’d grown to be a friend and obviously needed the help. I was in deep when the game perfectly orchestrated its narrative trap that made me rethink everything.

The gameplay is a wonderful support for the game’s themes, but some elements were not extremely polished. A small but nearly constant problem I had involved trying to interact with anything. If I was too close to a person or object, I couldn’t engage with them. So, trying (and failing) to tell a shopper we were out of an item on a busy day, where I needed to get back to scanning, could be very frustrating. There were also other small hitches with the tech. One time when talking with someone, they and their speech bubbles just disappeared. I looked like I was having a chat with an imaginary friend.

Rough patches aside, Discounty tells an impactful tale by lulling players into a false sense of security with its cheery trappings, then hitting them with reality. Engaging systems and character arcs culminate in nuanced self-reflection and an honest look at our society’s underpinnings.