Promise Mascot Agency Review

Kaizen Game Works' debut title, Paradise Killer, was adored by the story-rich detective genre fans and critics alike. Now they're back with Promise Mascot Agency, and it's bizarre in the sense that everything in the game should not make sense, but it just does. The game's design, the things you have to do, and the developers' approach are strange, but somehow, they made it fun.

You probably don't think of "existential tofu" or "Yakuza Exile redemption arc" when you hear the phrase "management sim about mascots". But here we are. The game is based on a big, silly idea that goes back and forth between being heartfelt and crazy, like a truck drifting down a winding country road, which is exactly what you'll be doing for a lot of the time.

It's clear that Kaizen Gameworks is good at putting together styles that don't go together, like the strange and the real, the silly and the serious. While Paradise Killer was a neon vaporwave whodunit, Promise Mascot Agency is set in rural Japan and draws from the charm and melancholy of Showa-era nostalgia. You and your severed-finger mascot partner are also thrown into trash cans to make money. Please come to Kasumachi.

You play as Michizane Suguada, or "Michi," a former cleaner who becomes a lieutenant in the Shimazu Yakuza family. He messes up the transfer of 12 billion yen and is said to be put to death for it. At least, that's what the public has been told. Michi is instead quietly taken away in a body bag and dumped in Kasumachi, a town where no male Yakuza has ever lived. What did he get? To get the money back by running the Promise Mascot Agency, which no longer exists.

The story starts when Michizane meets Pinky, a mascot who looks like a spoiled brat finger dressed in sneakers. He is angry because the agency failed and was left behind. You and Michizane, who is currently in charge of the organization and is also the designated truck driver, have to rebuild the agency, take care of your mascots, and find your way around Kasumachi's strange, sad, and often funny world.

It's not long before you understand that Promise Mascot Agency is more than just paying back debts. It's about broken dreams, finding family, and strange redemption stories. Along the way, there are talking cats covered in yams and tofu that get depressed. Everything works because the characters are deeply human at their core, no matter how silly they seem on the outside.

Promise Mascot Agency is a mascot management sim with a twist: you're always stuck in a truck. As you drive from one end of Kasumachi to the other, you'll drift, crash, boost, and sometimes throw your partner Pinky into things that can be damaged for extra coins. Your truck is more than just a way to get around town; it's also your mobile headquarters, your taxi service, your mascot launcher, and the key to getting around this beautifully sad town.

You find lonesome, strange people who are either having an existential crisis or just plain bad luck, and hire them as mascots. Once you have hired them, you send them to gigs posted by local businesses like teachers, farmers, and shop owners who are all looking for mascot magic to help them get back to work. You're not just managing to make money; you're also managing people's hopes and dreams.

You'll also get a crazy number of extra things to do. You can get merchandise in a UFO crane game, take Pinky to a nail salon, or even go fishing. Almost. Getting items with a fishing rod icon makes it more likely that. In other regions, you can hire subcontractor mascots to make money without doing anything. There are a lot of collectibles all over the map. They're fun to find at first, but if you try to get them all at once, you might end up in a pixelated Pac-Man fever dream.

The game has a lot of extra content, but the management systems aren't very heavy. There are six perks to choose from when hiring a mascot, but most of the time, just two are enough, even if the mascots complain. Missions come down to matching traits and handling emergencies that come up on the job. You can tell it was meant to be lean, but there's a part of you that might want more complexity inside.

When those emergencies happen, which they often do in a funny way, you use a unique, one-sided card battle system to get things done. Your mascots can get stuck in a doorway, be attacked by bees, or be haunted by nightmare crows—normal stuff for mascots.

Mascot Support Hero Cards, which you get from Quests and character growth, are what you need to save the day. Each card is a person from Kasumachi who wants to help. There are shop owners, spiritual advisors, and that guy who is crazy about old arcade shoot 'em-ups. You choose cards that will lower the emergency's health to zero as quickly as possible so that you can get paid.

The card game isn't very strategic, but it's a great fit for the mood of the game. It turns any emergency into a funny story wrapped in the support of the strange community you're trying to fix up. The emotional weight of a town is behind you when you fight, whether it's a rogue vending machine or a swarm of locusts.

This card-based emergency system works best because it is fun, not because it is very deep. You won't learn anything new about strategy from it, but it will make you laugh, and more importantly, it puts you in touch with the people who play the cards. It makes you feel good to use the powers of characters you've helped to help other people.

Still, it might feel too light for people who are used to more traditional game loops. They don't change much over time, and happen very quickly. It stops being a challenge and turns into a rhythm. But when you think about the emotional and thematic core of the game, that rhythm adds to it instead of taking away from it—it's about caring for others, not conquering them.

Instead of grinding XP like most games do, Promise Mascot Agency is all about making money and making your business run better. You make money when mascot events go well, when you handle emergencies, and when subcontractors do work for you. To keep your little army of misfits happy, you use that money to hire more mascots, buy better truck parts, pay the staff, and make sure everyone gets paid.

There are collectibles all over the map that can improve your hero cards or give you access to more gigs. This lets more mascots work, the story progresses, and you earn more money to give back to the Shimazu family or buy Pinky nail polish.

It works because it's a cycle of light engagement and reward, even if it can be too much for you. Sometimes, it seems like the game is trying to balance too many ideas, but the loop is still fun, especially when you use your gains to help Kasumachi's many characters achieve their goals.

Kasumachi is dull. On purpose, that is. The colors are mostly muted and almost washed out, and the roads along rivers, shrines in the woods, and old buildings all evoke a sad mood from the Showa era. Aside from the odd smartphone or livestream UI, there is purposefully no modern tech to lock you into a timeless, liminal space between the past and the present.

But your mascots walk into this gray world. They are bright, strange, and definitely not people in suits. These are mascots that are alive. You have a cat covered in yams that like watching cursed videos on the internet, a cut finger in Converse shoes, and a block of depressed tofu. 

Their simple but eye-catching designs pop against the background, making every interaction feel like coloring on top of an old photo. The contrast between sad and crazy makes the game's style unique—it's sad, strange, and funny all at once.

Promise Mascot Agency has a great sound design that does a lot of work. The music in the background is a mix of slow beats and sounds that remind you of the country. It's both comforting and sad. The game smartly turns down the music when voiced dialogue is playing, so you don't miss anything, even if you can't understand the Japanese. 

Even better, when you open a menu, the music slows down, giving you a moment of management zen. The sound always improves the mood, whether you're driving on back roads or looking through hero cards—it's never annoying and always a nice addition.

Promise Mascot Agency takes you on a silly, funny, and surprisingly touching journey into a world where mascots are real, ex-Yakuza clean up after themselves by doing public relations work, and tofu and finger puppets can make you feel things. Different things happen in the game, but they all work together to make a heartfelt adventure.

Although the game's management systems aren't very strong, and its open-world design sometimes has too many collectibles, these flaws are more than made up for by its charm, great cast, and compelling story. It's strange, adorable, and, yes, very specific.

Promise Mascot Agency is also something you'll never forget. You're going to feel something, whether you're laughing at Pinky's latest outburst, jumping into a vending machine, or sitting in a quiet town and thinking about broken dreams.