Dig deep enough through any artistic medium, and you’ll find no shortage of bizarre, idiosyncratic works that defy any comparison. Cult classics that, beloved or not, are so novel that their ambition alone is commendable. Some creatives specifically thrive on their uniquely offbeat style. I’ve been a fan of Spike Chunsoft veterans Kazutaka Kodaka and Kotaro Uchikoshi for a substantial chunk of my life. While their stylings could never be mistaken for one another’s, their mutual interest in stories about isolated groups trying to survive high-stakes kidnappings through reasoning or puzzles rather than force meant that a collaboration between the two holds great untapped potential.
The Hundred Line: Last Defense Academy, that selfsame collaboration, is somehow even more odd in light of this context. It’s a strategy RPG focused on combat, and despite wearing its influences on its sleeve, it still ends up being something unique by virtue of just how much there is to see across its numerous story paths. It is a game that seems almost tailor-made to evoke wildly divergent reactions, taking massive creative swings even as it falls back on stock tropes that it could have toned down. It will doubtlessly not be to everyone’s tastes, even for fans of both of its leading creatives.
I, however, can’t get enough of it, and you owe it to yourself to at least see what the game offers.
The Hundred Line follows the perspective of Takumi Sumino, an average high schooler living in a secluded complex with his childhood friend, Karua. His life there is aggressively average until the day that strange monsters begin invading, and he is whisked away by a small robot named Sirei to the fortified Last Defense Academy. Within minutes, Sirei commands him and about a dozen other students to defend the school for one hundred days with a strange, blood-based power known as hemoanima, after which they will be allowed to return home.
If only it were actually that simple in practice. Tensions run high from minute one, as several of the newly minted members of the Special Defense Unit refuse to fight, either due to lack of information or extenuating circumstances. Other members aggressively try to take command of the situation for themselves. Any hopes for an explanation as to what they’re even fighting for beyond a vague defense of humanity are dashed almost immediately, and it isn’t long before the commanders of the so-called “school invaders” start ramping up the danger. And if all that wasn’t enough, Takumi finds that one of the students, Nozomi Kirifuji, looks identical to Karua, but has no memory of him at all.
At first impression, comparisons to Spike Chunsoft’s Danganronpa are not only appropriate, but inevitable. The two games share a lead writer in Kodaka, Rui Komatsuzaki as character designer, and Masafumi Takada as a composer, and many of their contributions to The Hundred Line hew so closely to their work on Danganronpa that you’d be forgiven for thinking it’s some kind of spinoff. However, The Hundred Line is the creation of Kodaka’s own Too Kyo Games. And while Spike Chunsoft published TooKyo’s previous outing Master Detective Archives: Rain Code, which shares these same creatives, The Hundred Line is published by Aniplex and XSEED Games.
That being the case, Kodaka’s unsubtle approach to characterization has not changed in the slightest. While the characters don’t bear specific talents to inform their personalities and backgrounds, they might be even more committed to their character gimmicks than Danganronpa‘s ensemble. Kurara Oosuzuki, for instance, is a “rich girl among rich girls” so haughty she wears a tomato mask to hide her face from the unwashed masses. And despite the later parts of the story giving her and other characters depth beyond their absurd eccentricities, it also remains committed to pushing said eccentricities. The insistence on reminding the player of these wacky quirks is so frequent that it borders on outright annoying, especially early on. It doesn’t help that some of these quirks either rely on tired stereotypes or paint an unflattering picture of some characters’ morals.
But on the other hand, many of these characters’ worst traits are directly acknowledged in the narrative. One of the most surprising aspects of the cast is how often they throw morality by the wayside. Sometimes this plays off pre-existing flaws, while in other cases the nominally upstanding characters compromise their ethics in the name of survival. Even when they try to reassure themselves about their decisions, they — and the surrounding narrative — will not stop reminding the player that they’re crossing a line. And the implications of these choices play into The Hundred Line‘s fascinating story.
While I’ve made no secret of their similarities, comparing The Hundred Line: Last Defense Academy to Danganronpa is wildly reductive once it hits its stride. There are many granular differences in how each game antagonizes their set of a dozen or so high schoolers in an isolated location, but it would do neither game justice to harp on those. The most relevant difference is the story structure. Choices abound in The Hundred Line, and how the player responds to those choices forms the bedrock of the game’s core appeal: the journey to see all one hundred endings.
While the “true” scenario was penned by Kodaka with his sensibilities on full display, its various branches were planned out by Uchikoshi, who noted in a development blog that Kodaka had not just asked for a hundred endings, but that they were all required to be substantial and meaningful. In this regard, I consider this tremendous undertaking a success, creating a wide range of complete stories in one unique setting. Every time I tried to get back on track with a specific route, a new, intriguing divergence would pop up to distract me with its own tone, arcs, and mysteries. Some of the best routes aren’t even written by Kodaka or Uchikoshi, which speaks to the strength of their larger writing team.
While some stories don’t quite live up to the promise of not feeling superfluous, the “bad endings” and “bonus scenario” type endings still carry a commendable amount of meaning. And as promised, The Hundred Line defies both comparison and genre description, flipping through suspense, romance, and several different flavors of horror from branch to branch. While not every route or genre shift is of equal quality, the ones on the lower end still have something to say, provide interesting contrast to other endings, or contribute to the grander mysteries. Many of those mysteries only emerge if the player strays off the main scenario, which is best played first to better frame the gradual reveals of the other routes. Much like its directors’ most famous work, this game lives and dies on its rug pulls and intrigue, and both are abundant to the point it’s easy to forget there’s a whole strategy RPG to discuss.
Ultimately, though, there isn’t much to discuss regarding The Hundred Line‘s gameplay. It’s a fun, if not particularly groundbreaking, turn-based affair where the level geometry is mostly defined by the arrangement of weak, easily-dispatched enemies, defeating stronger enemies grants additional actions, and units on low health can trade the rest of their health for a free super attack. Battles are quite easy save for some infrequent spikes during key bosses, and they’ll be easier still if the player invests enough into upgrading characters and loadouts. Many of those upgrades require high study grades and crafting materials, acquired through interacting with the other students during Free Time and exploring the outskirts of the academy in the style of a board game. And while I applaud Kodaka’s commitment to never limiting himself to one form of gameplay, it’s still as jarring as ever to be thrown through these and the many other mini-game-like modes in the game.
On the subject of holdovers from Kodaka’s other work, Masafumi Takada’s soundtrack is still a strong point. He’s always been one of the industry’s greatest talents, and much of The Hundred Line‘s music evokes his prior work with Kodaka, the best tracks are anything but derivative. The English voice performances, courtesy of the London-based Outsource Media, are a bit more inconsistent, but generally strong. Jay Rincon (Takumi), Andrew Wheildon-Dennis (Takemaru), Nezar Alderazi (Eito), Leader Looi (Nozomi), and Joseph May (Sirei) are particularly praiseworthy for the many highs they hit in a game with this much tonal variety, which is saying something.
The Hundred Line: Last Defense Academy might take a bit to grow on you. It doesn’t have the most elegant start, and there are many rough edges even after it gets going. And yet, with all that in mind, the sheer variety and ambition still make it something special for fans of both its directors and those looking for a decidedly unconventional experience. For what it’s worth, I’m both, and I can recommend it easily. There’s definitely a lot to unpack with this game, and I know it will have a hold on me for a while.
