Llamas: the sweetest kind of irritable stretch-necked sheep-things. You've always thought as much and after a gruelling career of training USB mice for office workers, you've finally retired in a quiet country town with a sizable llama flock of your own; the dream of any sensible working person.
At the rooster's call, you greet the gentle morning light and summon each gorgeous llama by name for a snack of par-boiled frankfurt and a short story in your lap. But wait! What's that smell? Is the neighbour having a barbeque? Oh no! It's your fresh llamas, ablaze before your very eyes! You wail and weep with such ferocity that your tears could douse the flames themselves, but no: it's all too late. Your once verdant pastures are now scorched earth, your loyal llamas themselves reduced to scattered hoofs and blackened stumps.
All is still for a long moment until, as the sun breaks onto the opposite hill, it reflects off of a metal something-or-other: a golden mask, it looks like, sat atop the shoulders of a muscle-clad man dressed in a black uniform. His shoulders wobble powerfully and a deep (but clearly modulated) laugh echoes through the dead valley and disturbs some crows, cautiously scouting the tender remains of your recently broiled llamas.
The man in the golden mask turns and steps back into the shadows. Searching the area later, you find no trace of him. But you aren't thinking clearly; your mind is warped by grief, by anger, by longing for the soft fleece and aggressive spitting you know should be yours. You board the train to Mash City in search of answers, but when you arrive, the only thing you find is a bar: a bar with deep glasses of vodka, deep enough to drown your soul in, and that's exactly what you do. As the weeks pass your bank account gradually empties, and whenever the drink begins to wear off, numbness gives way to the cruel light of day and you feel your pain and loss anew.
Where you go from here, dear farmer, is up to you. Can you pull yourself together? Will you fight? Do you know how? Will you at least put on some clothes?
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GET REVENGE ON THE MAN WHO CRISPED YOUR LLAMAS.
PROS:
+ Under the guidance of a seasoned (and I do mean genuinely salty) sensei, master traditional martial arts training exercises including punching a suspended red bag, bursting a rubber ball with your chakra I mean ki, tapping a lot with your kung fu fingers, rhythm-related exercises and more!
+ Compete with friends to have the highest Power Level in the known universe! Talk about living your childhood anime fantasy!
+ Master new techniques such as the Energy Beam, Wave Fist Style, Thousand Fang Style, the definitely completely original Shadow Kick, and the legendary Soul Fist technique!
+ Create and customise your character's hair, skin and underwear(???), then top off the look with a unique layered clothing system which usually results in you looking like an aerobics instructor from a bad 70s exercise video!
+ Unlock explosive transformations to multiply your Power Level and embarrass your enemies mid-fight!
+ Fight with generally rude stage bosses, with casual tactical combat that requires timing, stamina preservation and sometimes just plain button mashing!
+ You won't be alone! Your disapproving shopkeeper will be there to judge you, with unique dialogue along the whole journey. Plus, experience a real bond with a fictional (but qualified!) Sensei guiding you step by step on your path to mastery!
+ The pixel art is beaten and half-starved but it's trying really hard to please you!
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CONS:
- You can't just tap an icon to use your skills! You have to memorise real button combinations, like a loser. Is this a mobile game, or a real game? Make up your mind, Dragonfist Limitless!
- Cope with constant in-your-face low quality humour!
- I made the music myself!
- Sensei is a bit mean tbh but he loves you
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