Oh boy, where do I even begin with this wild ride called Fantasy Life i: The Girl Who Steals Time? I mean, it’s like Animal Crossing and The Legend of Zelda had one too many at the tavern and birthed this unruly child. Almost without noticing, I got sucked into its world where cozy vibes meet crazy RPG mechanics. Seriously, 50 hours whizzed by, and I was somewhere between chopping trees and slapping bosses. Pretty sure I should be embarrassed, but hey, life’s too short.
So here’s how it starts. Like any life sim, right? You switch jobs like I switch TV channels on a Sunday – one minute fishing, the next mining, just doing people favors. Routine stuff. Then BAM! The game throws you headfirst into this technicolor monster land, with puzzles that make my brain hurt. “Okay, got it,” I thought, “I know the drill.” But no, it keeps yanking the rug, sending me to an island to play architect, and then – plot twist – rogue dungeons! Imagine thinking you’re all set just to have a giant tree boss point and laugh at your puny ax. No end to the surprises, even after the credits roll.
Honestly, it’s kind of nerve-wracking how it juggles all these bits and doesn’t drop anything. Usually, that’s when I start thinking, “Uh-oh, trying to do too much.” Yet, when out of nowhere I was fishing for a mega-fish boss, I was amused and impressed. The life sim stuff – leveling jobs, doing errands, decorating my pixel home – they’re the crème de la crème. And although the combat’s as chill as a Sunday nap, it’s engaging enough to keep me from wandering off. The whole game radiates this relaxed vibe, which honestly suited my hectic brain just fine.
Ah, the story. It’s got everything – dragons, time travel, and magic, which sounds like every fantasy ever. Still, the writing was sharper than it had any right to be. And the characters! Edward the archaeologist and Trip the snarky bird – talk about a dream team. If only Act 3 didn’t drag its feet, but then again, what doesn’t in this genre?
Between saving Reveria and schlepping lumber, the game’s grind is weirdly addictive, swapping roles like some career-hopping existential crisis. Craft a bow, but first a new ax, which needs this rare thing you’ve never heard of. Ta-da – now you’ve got a to-do list longer than my grocery shopping list. It’s hypnotic, like staring blankly at The Sims, wondering where the past five hours went.
Oh, but the grinding? Sometimes it made me want to chuck my console across the room. Especially the crafting minigame—it’s like repeatedly banging a button to advance. Thankfully, you can skip some of it, letting you chase rare items without losing your mind.
And your little plot of land! It’s cute, really, akin to Animal Crossing. Craft furniture, gift stuff to villagers, sprucing up the place. Sure, it’s not as deep, but still a sweet retreat from forge shifts and dragon-hunting. You need those storehouses for all your loot anyway.
Animal Crossing, who? Not with this action-packed side. Four combat Lives, tons to unlock – it’s basically a chill hack and slash. Although I never felt any real danger, it was the perfect change from fruit collecting to flexing my swords on mythical creatures.
Open-world explorations bring adventure after a marathon crafting session. Climbing for precious minerals, bashing loot-filled mimics – it’s a blast. Companions? Lovely addition, except for their repetitive yapping, which had me shouting for mercy.
There’s even this roguelike twist – who knew chores could be dungeon-worthy? Clearing zones within a time crunch, deciding between fishing or farming. These levels aren’t vast, but they’re predictably fun for grinding out XP.
Multiplayer? Bit of a letdown, honestly. Friends can visit, but they mostly stand around admiring your work. Limited interaction timed sessions are just… odd. Roguelike dungeons with pals are decent, though. Still, if I’m nitpicking, this could use a little more love.
So, that’s the craziness. Don’t ask me if I recommend it because, honestly, I’m still trying to catch my breath. But it’s got charm, spunk, and a certain je ne sais quoi that keeps pulling me back in.
