When Tookyo Games first announced they were working on multiple projects several years ago, I was immediately curious. But the one that stood out the most was the project that at the time was unnamed, but went on to become The Hundred Line: Last Defense Academy. It had that intangible something—a blend of ambition, mystery, and pedigree—that made it feel like a game only a very specific set of creatives could pull off. And once I saw the names behind it—Kazutaka Kodaka (Danganronpa) and Kotaro Uchikoshi (Zero Escape, AI: The Somnium Files)—my curiosity exploded into full-blown anticipation.
These are two of the sharpest minds in narrative-driven gaming, especially when it comes to psychological twists, oddball characters, and tension that gets under your skin. The idea of them collaborating on a project wasn’t just exciting—it felt like lightning in a bottle. Now after playing it, I can confidently say it’s one of the most captivating, weirdly charming, and satisfyingly deep games I’ve played in recent memory.
The Hundred Line isn’t your average adventure game. It’s a dense, narrative-rich title with heavy visual novel influences, but it also packs in tactical combat, time management, and stat-building mechanics in a way that feels cohesive rather than clunky.
You play as Takumi, an average student who finds himself in the middle of an extraordinary—and terrifying—situation. After a strange encounter with a ghostly mascot character, Takumi is thrust into the Last Defense Academy, a fortified school set in a mysterious town that exists to protect humanity from relentless monster attacks. With only 100 days until a cataclysmic event, Takumi and 14 other classmates must train, survive, and somehow hold the line against annihilation.
The game’s structure revolves around these 100 days, and every single one counts. You can spend your time exploring the town, bonding with your classmates, improving your stats through various slice-of-life activities, or preparing for battle. It’s a ticking clock, and the constant sense of impending doom gives the game a unique energy—there’s always something to do, and never enough time to do everything.
What surprised me most was how elegantly the different gameplay systems feed into one another. This isn’t just a visual novel with combat bolted on; everything matters. Hang out with a classmate during free time, and you’ll not only get a great character scene, but often a stat boost or even new perks that can be used in battle. The social sim elements feel like they matter, and they add depth to both the gameplay and the relationships.
I loved getting to know each of the 14 other students. Kodaka has always been excellent at writing characters that seem like stereotypes at first, only to gradually peel back the layers and reveal their complexities. It’s the same here. You’ve got the tough guy with a soft side, the quiet genius, the cheerful oddball—but all of them evolve in meaningful ways over the course of the story. And that growth feels earned, especially when it impacts the gameplay.
As a longtime fan of Final Fantasy Tactics, I was thrilled by The Hundred Line’s grid-based combat. Each battle is turn-based, but there’s a real sense of strategic depth once the systems start opening up. Every character has a distinct role, complete with unique stats and archetypes, and the way you position them and use their abilities can make or break a fight.
The action point system requires careful planning, and the Voltage gauge adds a layer of risk vs. reward. Do you use that stored-up energy now for a devastating super move, or hold onto it in case something worse comes next turn? This decision-making keeps fights tense, especially as the enemies grow more unpredictable.
What I appreciated most is how the game encourages experimentation. Switching up your team composition can radically change your approach to a battle, and it often feels necessary, not optional. The combat is too well-crafted to be dismissed as a secondary feature—it’s integral to the experience.
Unsurprisingly, the writing is where The Hundred Line really shines. Kodaka and Uchikoshi inject the entire game with a surreal, almost dreamlike sense of unease. The mystery surrounding the academy, the town, and even Takumi’s own memories had me constantly questioning what was real and what was manipulated. I couldn’t stop chasing answers.
The branching narrative structure is another standout. There are 100 different endings, and while not all of them are equally complex, they’re consistently inventive. Some are abrupt game-overs meant to teach you something. Others are full narrative arcs that spiral into horror, comedy, or even sci-fi. The tonal variety is wild in the best way, and thanks to an excellent flowchart system, you can easily revisit past choices and explore alternate outcomes without getting lost.
Yes, the game is long. If you want to see everything, you’re looking at over 100 hours of content. And there’s a lot of reading. This won’t be for everyone, but I personally loved it. The voice acting, while not constant, is high quality when it’s there. It’s just a shame there isn’t more of it—more voiced scenes could have elevated some of the quieter character moments even further.
As much as I loved my time with The Hundred Line, it’s not perfect. Some routes drag more than others. There are stretches—especially in certain character-focused paths—where the pacing slows to a crawl and the main plot takes too long to reassert itself. A little tightening here and there would have gone a long way.
And again, more voiced dialogue would’ve helped immensely. With so much text to read, having more performances would’ve broken up the monotony and added emotional punch to some critical scenes. Still, these are relatively small issues in a game that aims high and mostly sticks the landing.
What adds an extra emotional layer to The Hundred Line is knowing what’s at stake. Kodaka has been open about Tookyo Games’ financial situation—and that the company could face bankruptcy if this title doesn’t do well. That’s heartbreaking, because this game deserves to succeed. It’s the kind of wild, ambitious, genre-defying experience that only comes from creators who genuinely care about their craft and aren’t afraid to take risks.
There’s nothing else quite like The Hundred Line. It’s bold, bizarre, heartfelt, and filled with more ideas than most games twice its size. It respects your time by giving you meaningful choices, compelling characters, and deep gameplay systems. And most of all, it delivers on the potential that made me excited for it in the first place.
If this is what Tookyo Games is capable of with limited resources, then I can only imagine what they could do with more support. I genuinely hope people give The Hundred Line a chance. It’s not just a visual novel, not just a tactics game, and not just a mystery story—it’s all of those things, woven together with real care.
A Nintendo Switch review code was provided by the publisher for the purpose of this review.
If you want to see more content like this and never miss one of our frequent gaming and anime giveaways come and Follow Ani-Game on Twitter.