Post Script

A game that proves the value of a strong community spirit

With the benefit of hindsight, Dreamcast was always the most fitting birthplace for the Shenmue series. Sega’s final attempt to conquer the console market was an optimistic endeavour in many ways, but perhaps most of all in its desire to bring people together through play. Long before social media was being weaponised to divide communities, ChuChu Rocket’s connection screen was warning people “you’ll be playing with people you don’t know so remember to be polite.” Such a warning seems quaint now, in the same way that Shenmue’s vision of mid-’80s Yokosuka seemed quaint then. Hazuki’s familiarity with everyone from his neighbours to the local shop owners suggested a level of community cohesion that felt unlikely, and now feels almost alien.

For many players, the feeling of being dropped into a functioning community was a great part of Shenmue’s

appeal, and some greatly preferred the relatively intimate setting of the original game to the less cosy streets of Hong Kong in Shenmue II. For those players, Shenmue III

will come as a welcome relief as Bailu’s citizens form a tight-knit community. When you first visit the village, Hazuki is regarded with suspicion and even hostility due to recent attacks from outsiders. The mood changes after he’s properly introduced by Shenhua, and suspicion gives way to fascination. Frequently, Hazuki will come across someone new, only for them to assume that he’s Shenhua’s new friend, the visitor from Japan. As Hazuki’s conversations with the villagers become friendlier and they begin to make requests of him, you come to know them in turn. Soon, you find yourself avoiding the old woman at the Hermit’s Nest who rambles pointlessly, and hearing rumours from the local kids about the local women’s impressions of Hazuki.

The sense of community within this virtual village can awaken a powerful nostalgic feeling for a place you’ve never lived in, and conditions you’ve never lived under. Life is undeniably slow in Bailu. Many streets are still lit by torches, and most homes have little in the way of technology, but the children enjoy playing together in the sunflower maze and drawing pictures in the dirt. The adults converse from opposite sides of the well in the village square. Once Hazuki is done with his business in the village, he returns to Shenhua’s home. Without much to distract him, he spends his time conversing with her as she knits or cooks, sharing stories from his childhood and learning more about his temporary housemate’s personality. Though the character development and exposition provided in these scenes is important, the atmosphere they provide is more so – these domestic scenes are so rare in games.

Once Hazuki reaches Niaowu, the city environment allows Shenmue III’s virtual community to give way to its real one. Take time to look at the hotel guestbook and you’ll see messages left by the game’s Kickstarter backers, including names that will be familiar to those who have spent time in the community. Visiting the city’s temples, you’ll see more representation of those that placed their faith in Yu Suzuki’s vision. Shenmue III would not exist were it not for the persistence of those touched by prior entries in the series, and without the Internet as a platform to organise, it’s unlikely that they would have made their voices heard. It’s a powerful reminder of the good that can be done online.

Niaowu also gives Hazuki a chance to reconnect with the communities he has left behind over the course of his journey, as he can purchase international phone cards that allow him to check in on his friends from past games. Some calls focus on his relationships with those characters – including amusing skits in which he completely fails to understand Joy’s point of view – but others serve to remind you of his roots. In the first game, Hazuki helped a young girl named Megumi to raise a stray kitten, and if he phones home he’ll discover that she has tried to visit him to show how well the cat is doing now. She’s sad to learn that he has gone on a long journey, and it’s hard not to feel for her – and for Hazuki, confronted with the fact that his quest has left a small void in his own community.

The march of technological progress has changed society enormously since the days of Dreamcast, and the promise of a connected world has not granted us the increased social cohesion that may have been anticipated – if anything, it’s had the opposite effect. Where you might have exchanged a few friendly words with the cashier on a shopping trip, the words you’re most likely to hear now are “unexpected item in bagging area.” Idle chatter about the weather at the bus stop is solely the preserve of the older generations, as people are increasingly absorbed by their phones. Polls have often shown that many of use don’t even know our neighbours by name, yet we were instantly able to recall Mao Meimei as the operator of the prize exchange at the Panda Market. There exists a real possibility that in today’s unsociable world, some Shenmue III players will feel more integrated in Bailu’s community than their own.

However, if community spirit is truly in decline, that makes games like Shenmue III more vital than they were in the late ’90s. The community that came together to make the game happen will spend time discussing it, exploring it and helping others by sharing tips. And if the in-game reminder of the closeness that our societies have lost can inspire some people to develop bonds within their local areas, that must be worthwhile. If not, at least we have an acceptable digital substitute.

For many players, the feeling of being dropped into a functioning community was a great part of the appeal