There's something about attending foreign trade shows that makes me feel violent. Maybe it's the friction of rubbing so roughly against an unfamiliar culture for days on end. But it's probably the drinking.

I've been in Japan covering the Tokyo Game Show for the past few days, and it's been a great experience so far. I love Japanese culture and games, and it's always a blast to hit the show floor and take in all the sights and sounds. But playing an endless string of foreign games is a bit like eating unfamiliar food for days on end. After a while, you're tired of exotica and just want to get your hands on something familiar.

So after wading through piles of Gundams or whatever for a couple hours at the Makuhari Messe convention center on the outskirts of Tokyo, I made my way to the Microsoft booth, where Fallout: New Vegas was hidden in a corner behind a white fringe curtain. Like the glowing lights of Vegas itself, it pulled me in, and I couldn't resist. I stepped up to the booth, ignored the mumbled warnings of the attendant that the build was all in Japanese, and cracked my knuckles.



For some reason, Bethesda Softworks is pushing New Vegas pretty heavily in Japan, despite the fact that it's based on most of the Western RPGs hallmarks Japanese gamers tend to turn their noses up at. It's first-person, it's full of interactive dialogue, it's completely non-linear, and it's not packed with doe-eyed anime girls. During my time in Tokyo this week, I've seen several high-profile ads for Fallout in videogame store windows and in magazines. The publisher has even gone so far as to ridicule Japanese RPG cliches in some of the ads, which is a bold move that's sure to… be ignored.

And that's a shame, because Fallout is just the sort of game you want to play after taking an hour-long train ride home from work, packed in like a pickled fish with a thousand of your closest anonymous friends, or being jostled by fellow gamers in a sweaty convention hall while people shout at you though megaphones.

The Fallout: New Vegas Japanese demo started in a nondescript courtyard peppered with non-player characters. They looked like your typical Fallout folk, except they were muttering things in Japanese. The demo attendant watched quizzically as I opened my PIP Boy, de-selected the pre-loaded rifle and selected a scary looking glove with spikes strapped to it. And then I began to systematically punch everyone in the courtyard.

I've played countless hours of Fallout 3, using nearly every outlandish weapon I could get my hands on. Because I was so smitten by the sheer volume of projectile weaponry in the game, I never got around to using melee weapons. So what better way to kick New Vegas's tires than by pummeling everything in sight?

To my surprise and delight, the Japanese menus proved no obstacle to my pugilistic mission. It turns out using VATS is like riding a bike or pouring yourself a glass of whiskey in the dark. Once you get the hang of it, you never really forget.

By the time I had beaten my third NPC to death, a contingent of patrol robots was upon me. I was no match for their automatic weapons, and they shot me down. Not to be deterred, I rebooted and tried again. This time I darted past the robots and around the corner, where a quiet-looking compound awaited. I readied my glove of hate and made my way toward the entrance. The demo attendant shifted his stance slightly. Luckily, he couldn't speak my language, so he couldn't tell me I was doing it wrong.

The compound was encircled by a metal fence, but the entrance was wide open. A plaque nearby informed me that it was the residence of Ambassador Dennis Crocker, who served at the pleasure of Republic President Aaron Kimball. I tried to have a pleasant conversation with the guards, but they refused to speak my language. So I pulled up VATS with a tap of the right bumper and dumped all my available AP into a series of rib-cracking punches.

Four glorious crunching sounds later, and they were both down, skulls shattered in an explosion of blood and viscera. As I was looting their bodies for things whose descriptions I couldn't read, Demo Guy backed away. He must have realized he couldn't help me now. I was too far gone.

With the guards incapacitated, I pushed my way into the building. The fight outside had depleted my AP, so I went in swinging in real-time. I took out the gunners first, closing in tight and slamming my spiked fist into their faces as quickly as I could. There was enough English scattered randomly throughout the PIP Boy menus that I navigated my way toward some Stimpaks and popped them mid-battle. By that time my AP was full again so I doled it out strategically, taking out the strong ones first and then mopping up the weak.

Somewhere between seeing Ambassador Crocker's name on the plaque and busting into his compound I had decided I wanted him dead. And I'm assuming I succeeded, because I smashed the brains of everyone in the building. But because I couldn't talk to any of my victims, I had no way of knowing which of the poor dead bastards was Crocker. I pondered his fate as I strolled out of the compound and into a waiting phalanx of attack robots. They ended me in seconds, but I had gotten what I came for.

I realize I haven't given you any new information about Fallout: New Vegas, no thanks to the language barrier. I don't know where I was, who I met or what the point of the Japanese demo was. But I can tell you this. Fallout: New Vegas feels comfortingly similar to its predecessor. Even with the story, context and dialogue stripped away, New Vegas pulled me back in to the world of the Wasteland, even if it was just to beat everyone senseless for a few minutes. 
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Yeah, I loved Fallout 3 so much, i spent so many hours playing that game, and ill probably do the same with this game.

P.S. - Do not feed the Yao Guai, that is all.


- ExitLights