Beebom Score
Riding back into a mythical Japan — this time set in the Edo era — felt like stepping through a portal to 2020 all over again. Back then, during the thick of the pandemic, I sat inside my room, booted up my PlayStation 4, and lost entire days to Ghost of Tsushima. That game carried the soul of a Kurosawa film, blending cinematic storytelling with razor-sharp combat, and it made me fall in love with melee games I’d never thought I’d enjoy.
I’ve never been much of a fan of parry-heavy RPGs like Elden Ring, where a single mistimed block can undo hours of progress. Yet Ghost of Tsushima pulled me deep into the art of the blade, teaching me to time my parries, dodge perfectly, and embrace the rhythm of swordplay. Ghost of Yotei not only revives that feeling but heightens it.
Its combat is as fluid and rewarding as ever, a refined dance of blades that rewards patience and precision, while its storytelling carves out a distinct identity. The game draws clear inspiration from Tarantino’s Kill Bill while retaining the grounded gravitas of a Kurosawa epic. What emerges is a blood-soaked tale of vengeance and resilience set against one of the most beautiful backdrops in all of gaming.
This time, the stage is Ezo, Japan. At the heart of it lies the smoldering ruins of the protagonist’s home, perched under the watchful gaze of the majestic Mount Yotei. From that vantage point, the story unfurls into a brutal opera of revenge, feuds, and battlefield drama, all drenched in the breathtaking scenery of 1600s Japan. Every duel feels personal, every cut deliberate, and every vista a reminder that beauty and brutality often walk hand in hand.
The question, then, is whether Ghost of Yotei surpasses its spiritual predecessor. Does it stand tall next to Ghost of Tsushima, or even elevate the formula into something greater? That’s what I set out to uncover in this review.
Revenge Is A Dish Best Served Cold
Ghost of Yotei is set more than three centuries after the events of Ghost of Tsushima, but its roots run deep in the same soil. The year 1603 established a crucial point in the historical progression of Japan. The Sengoku period of endless clan warfare has finished, while the Tokugawa shogunate establishes its rule to start the Edo period. Across much of Japan, peace begins to take hold under the shogunate’s rule. But not everywhere.
Far to the north, in the rugged frontier of Ezo (modern-day Hokkaido), the shogunate’s reach remains weak. The territory remains untamed and wild while it continues to be inhabited by the indigenous Ainu population. The true power in this world belongs to warlords and mercenaries and ronin who seek to create their destiny through violence. The story of our protagonist takes place in this unregulated area, which stands beneath the towering presence of Mount Yotei.
That protagonist is Atsu. Orphaned as a child after witnessing the slaughter of her family at the hands of Lord Saito and his brutal cadre — the Yotei Six — Atsu’s life is forged in fire and loss. Her father, a legendary swordsmith falsely accused of betraying Lord Saito, was executed alongside her mother and brother. Their home was torched, the family’s sacred gingko tree burned to ash, and a cruel message was left smoldering as a warning to others. Atsu managed to survive against all odds.
She remained in a state of military conflict and forced migration for the rest of her life. She joined forces with samurai groups while learning sword-fighting techniques, which transformed her into a deadly force beyond what her status as an orphan would have suggested. She returns to her home after surviving the ordeal as an Onryo — a ruthless spirit wandering the land, seeking vengeance.
Atsu creates her list of targets, which includes the Kitsune, the Snake, the Oni, the Dragon, the Spider, and Lord Saito at the very top. Each name is painted onto a long white band of cloth, a grim to-do list worn like a badge of intent. With every kill, the name is struck out, not with ink but with blood, wiped away as if erased from existence. It’s a ritual both chilling and cathartic, echoing the bloody poetry of Tarantino’s Kill Bill while rooted firmly in the solemn elegance of a Kurosawa tragedy.
Ghost of Yotei carves its own identity as a tale of cold-blooded vengeance.
Where Ghost of Tsushima was a meditation on honor — about Jin Sakai’s struggle between the code of the samurai and the shadowy path of the shinobi — Ghost of Yotei cuts straight to the bone. Atsu is already a shinobi. There is no honor to preserve, no code to wrestle with. Her mission is pure, undiluted revenge, and every choice she makes is sharpened by that singular goal.
It’s a story that thrives on simplicity but resonates through its execution: a lone warrior, a brutal past, and a journey painted in blood across a snow-draped canvas. And while the narrative stands strong on its own, it’s the way the game lets you live through that revenge — the mechanics, the combat, the flow of every strike — that makes Ghost of Yotei unforgettable
Gameplay That Cuts As Deep As the Story
From the very first cut, Ghost of Yotei tells you exactly what kind of game it is. Atsu delivers each sword swing with purpose while her attacks become merciless, and her finishing moves end in bloodshed. Atsu finishes her enemies by making them lose their limbs before they try to escape and plead for mercy before she delivers her fatal blow.
The violence is raw and unflinching, but never gratuitous; it’s purposeful, underscoring that this is a story fueled entirely by vengeance. It’s more ferocious, more fluid, and more immediate than anything Ghost of Tsushima offered. The immediacy is what impressed me most.
Where Tsushima eased players in with a slower setup, Yotei wastes no time. Within minutes, you’re handed Atsu’s iconic white band and, using the PS5’s DualSense touchpad, you swipe the names of the Yotei Six onto the cloth yourself. It’s a tactile ritual that makes the journey deeply personal — you aren’t just watching Atsu write her list, you’re the one doing it. From that moment, the path of revenge is clear, and the game throws you headfirst into combat.
Atsu fights with a complete and precise fighting style. Unlike Jin Sakai, who gradually unlocked his stances, Atsu begins with mastery of them all. She moves with speed and accuracy because she trained as a shinobi instead of following samurai traditions of honor. Dodges are swift, parries snap with satisfying timing, and her katana combos flow together with lethal efficiency. What sets Yotei apart is how flexible combat feels — Atsu can disarm enemies and immediately weaponize their blades, hurling a fallen sword into another foe for an instant kill. It adds unpredictability and improvisation to fights that already feel fast and fluid.
The DualSense controller pulls you further into the action. Every slash reverberates through the haptics, parries bite with resistance, and heavy blows land with a crunch you can feel. Drawing a bowstring tightens the triggers under your fingers until release, while even quiet moments use the hardware in clever ways.
Gameplay feels more fluid as Atsu truly moves, acts, and kills like a true Ronin would.
At camp, you tilt the controller to roast fish over a fire, swipe the touchpad to strike flint, and blow into the mic port to spark hay into flame. These details aren’t just gimmicks — they make downtime tactile and personal, reminding you that Atsu isn’t just a warrior but a survivor. The controller even finds uses in the world’s smaller diversions: gambling dens feature Hajiki, a coin-flicking game where the adaptive triggers perfectly mimic the flick of a coin, leaving your finger.
Progression also carries narrative weight. Altars of Reflection let you swipe the touchpad to meditate and unlock skills, while side quests grant new charms and abilities that keep Atsu evolving outside the main path. Returning to her family forge in Ezo is one of the most affecting mechanics in the game — you don’t simply “upgrade” weapons from a menu, you tilt the controller to hammer glowing iron, shaping a blade as Atsu’s father once did. It turns progression into something intimate, tying gameplay systems directly to her story. Even her wolf companion plays a meaningful role, lunging at enemies and turning battles into coordinated chaos.
What ties it all together is the pacing. The game throws you straight into bloodshed, but it never loses focus. Shocking story twists are interwoven into missions, forcing you to question your own thirst for revenge, even as the combat urges you forward. Atsu’s journey is more agile, more immediate, and more personal than Jin Sakai’s, and the gameplay systems reflect that philosophy in every dodge, strike, and ritual.
And while the flow of combat and exploration form the heart of the experience, Ghost of Yotei doesn’t stop there — it deepens the arsenal at your disposal, expanding weapons and ranged tools in ways that push the gameplay even further.
In Yotei, Steel Talks Louder Than A Tarantino Film
Ghost of Yotei provides players with the complete samurai combat experience after Ghost of Tsushima introduced them to it. Combat in Ezo presents itself as diverse as the region’s natural landscapes because it includes numerous weapons and tools and armor sets, which create new combat experiences with each fight.
Atsu enters combat with all her weapons and elite training, which makes her more dangerous than any historical ronin warrior. The game presents a combat system that represents her development as well as the technological and cultural changes that occurred during the 300 years between the first and second games.
She carries her father’s forged katana as her main weapon, which she held during her childhood and now uses as the most dangerous blade in Ezo. Atsu operates without any specific style or limitations. Early in her journey, she reunites with one of her father’s allies atop Mount Yotei, who teaches her the art of dual katanas. The blades allow her to move quickly and precisely through enemy formations while she generates a storm of steel during battles. Their agility stands out as their best weapon when fighting against enemies who wield spears and extended blades.
From there, the arsenal only grows. The Odachi, a massive two-handed blade learned from a master swordsman, allows Atsu to cleave through brutes and armored enemies with crushing force. The Yari, a long spear passed down by a fisherman master, gives her reach and control in duels, particularly when countering enemies armed with a Kusarigama.
Speaking of which, the Kusarigama itself — a chain equipped with a spiked ball on one end and a curved blade on the other — is perhaps the most versatile melee weapon in her kit. It whips shields away and breaks them, staggers groups, and enables grisly stealth kills by pulling enemies from cover into a waiting strike. In my playthrough, it became an indispensable tool, blending offense and stealth in a way no katana ever could.
Ranged combat, too, is deeper than ever. Standard bows return, with fire and poison arrows adding tactical variety. The Yumi, a longbow, introduces heavy arrows capable of puncturing helmets or staggering brutes, along with dismantling arrows that literally knock weapons from enemy hands. Then there are the firearms: matchlock rifles and pistols.
These early-modern weapons reflect the 1600s setting and add a layer of gritty realism to combat. Pistols can be quickfired with L1 during duels for devastating impact, while rifles offer slower, deliberate shots that can turn the tide in larger battles. Crafting ammo is simple and intuitive — you can set up camp anywhere from horseback, press the D-pad, and create arrows, bullets, or bombs with gathered resources. It ensures you’re never far from being fully armed.
Weapons are the lifeline of combat in Ghost of Yotei — the more you have, the more fun combat becomes.
Speaking of bombs, Yotei introduces a staggering variety: Scorch bombs that set enemies ablaze, Smoke bombs for quick escapes, and Blind bombs that work like flashbangs to disorient entire groups. Add in charms that grant quickfire bow abilities, letting you rain arrows on horseback without aiming, and combat becomes a toolbox of possibilities.
All of this is framed by a user interface that is elegant and unobtrusive. Switching weapons is fluid — R2 for melee, L2 for ranged — and menus expand naturally to accommodate the game’s larger arsenal without ever overwhelming the player. It’s the kind of design that feels invisible: easy to grasp, powerful once mastered.
The system extends beyond weapons to armor. Unlike Tsushima, where armor was more cosmetic, Yotei makes gear central to gameplay. Helmets, masks, and armor pieces aren’t just rewards from quests — they can be taken directly from defeated enemies and bounty targets. Each set comes with perks tailored to your playstyle: melee-focused armor for raw strength, stealth armor for silent infiltrations, lightweight gear for agility, and ranged-focused sets for precision builds.
Masks are especially striking, serving both as protection and as trophies that mark your growing legend across Ezo. The ability to upgrade armor at forges adds another layer of customization, encouraging you to experiment with builds that suit the mission at hand. Wait till a mission in Ezo hits that nostalgic chord and grants you a mask you never thought you’d wear or a sword you never thought you’d see again in Yotei (wink wink).
Even mobility gets its own spotlight with the grappling hook. Essential for exploration and combat, it lets Atsu swing across gaps, scale vertical terrain, and even rip down barricades with the help of allies. In battle, it’s a lifesaver, giving you verticality and creativity that expands the way encounters play out.
Together, these systems make Ghost of Yotei’s combat feel modern, varied, and deeply satisfying. Every weapon you acquire feels earned, every piece of armor carries weight, and every tool fits into a larger strategy. Whether you’re carving through brutes with an Odachi, picking off foes with a pistol, or pulling enemies into a Kusarigama strike, the game constantly invites you to experiment.
But weapons and armor are only half of the equation. How you use them — the assassinations you plan, the stealth routes you carve, the silent strikes you deliver — are just as vital. And it’s here, in the shadows, that Ghost of Yotei embraces its deadliest side.
A True Shinobi Kills Before the Target Knows Fear
The first time you slip into enemy territory as Atsu, you don’t feel like a warrior — you feel like a haunting. Soldiers whisper about the onryo, the vengeful spirit of a murdered girl returned to claim their souls. To them, Atsu is not flesh and blood but a phantom of vengeance. That supernatural dread is more than flavor — it’s the foundation of Ghost of Yotei’s stealth design, and it changes the way every assassination feels.
Strikes are smoother and deadlier than ever. Atsu can leap from rooftops to assassinate enemies from greater heights, chain together multiple kills in a single flowing motion, and melt back into cover before anyone realizes what happened. When a mistake happens, escape is just as fluid: blind bombs scatter foes in confusion, giving you space to vanish into the bushes and reset the encounter. The Kusarigama, with its hooked chain, takes stealth even further — letting you pull unsuspecting guards into the dark or stagger hulking brutes for a silent critical hit.
Moments of pure intimidation elevate the system. The Onryo’s Howl ability plunges the screen into black-and-white Kurosawa tones as Atsu cuts down enemies in a rapid frenzy. Survivors drop their weapons, terrified, convinced death itself has walked into their camp. Where Ghost of Tsushima’s Ghost Stance toyed with fear, Yotei fully embraces it, letting you weaponize the myth of the vengeful spirit.
Stealth also comes with new layers of awareness. An unlockable listening ability highlights enemy outlines through walls, barrels, and even clever disguises — vital for navigating Kitsune-controlled areas, where tricksters lie in wait. Puzzles tied to these infiltrations add another wrinkle: shrines etched with Kitsune symbols hide alternate assassination routes, but choosing the wrong pattern can spring traps or seal you inside.
Armor plays directly into this fantasy. The Nine Tails armor extends detection windows, muffles your steps, and makes you harder to track once spotted, giving every infiltration a razor-thin edge of tension. Bounty boards build on this, offering missions that demand precision kills and silent eliminations, forcing you to plan and deceive rather than rush in. Atsu isn’t just a ruthless killer — she’s a tactician, a deception artist who turns her enemies’ fear against them.
Assassinations make you feel like a Ronin every step of the way.
What’s remarkable is how natural it all feels. In Tsushima, being a “ghost” sometimes felt like betraying the samurai code. In Yotei, stealth and assassination aren’t dishonor — they’re survival, and they’re vengeance. That shift in philosophy makes Atsu’s journey not only deadlier but also more authentic to the fantasy of a shinobi.
But stealth is only half the equation. The stage where these bloody plays unfold — the open world of Ezo — is just as important. Its mountains, forests, shrines, and hidden strongholds don’t just frame the gameplay; they breathe life into it, shaping every encounter with their atmosphere.
Revenge Is Never a Straight Line, It’s a Forest
Ghost of Yotei doesn’t just hand you a map dotted with markers and waypoints — it invites you to discover Ezo the way a wanderer would. The regions unfold naturally as you ride, revealing paths, hidden shrines, and entire landscapes only once you’ve actually set foot in them. Instead of feeling like a checklist, exploration here feels organic, alive, and unpredictable.
The game begins in the Yotei Grasslands, a serene but dangerous starting point under the looming mountain. From there, the world branches out into six vast regions. Ishikari Plain is scorched and hostile, ravaged by Oni raiders who leave trails of fire in their wake. Teshio Ridge is an unforgiving stretch of snow and storm, where blizzards cut down your health if you linger too long in the cold.
Oshima Coast pulls you toward towering cliffs and violent seas, forcing you to leap across gaps, climb treacherous rocks, or ferry yourself across crashing waters. Each region has its own challenges, both environmental and narrative, making traversal more than just a way to get from point A to point B.
Travel itself is deeply satisfying. Horse riding feels smoother and more meditative than ever, making long journeys a pleasure rather than a chore. Yet, for players short on patience, fast travel is unlocked surprisingly early, giving you freedom to skip across the map without losing momentum. Boats and ferries add another layer, bridging regions that a horse can’t reach and reinforcing the sense that you’re part of a living, interconnected world.
But the real strength of exploration comes in the activities scattered across Ezo. Bounties are central to the economy: you earn Mon (currency) by hunting down targets, and the choice to kill or spare them adds moral weight. Sparing a bounty lets them pay their way to freedom — revenge or mercy, the decision is yours. Completing bounties also expands your legend, drawing allies into your wolf pack who can be called on later for aid. Masters you once trained under can be revisited to refine skills or unlock bonuses, tying side content back into the story.
Then there are the quieter diversions. Hot springs return, offering a chance to restore Atsu’s strength while reflecting on selected thoughts, each reflection permanently boosting her health. Shamisen spots let you strum songs on the DualSense touchpad, sometimes summoning your wolf companion to fight alongside you in battle.
Painting locations give you the chance to capture landscapes, people, or even enemies on canvas, reinforcing the artistic spirit of the game. Each of these systems provides more than just a stat boost as they carve out space for meditation between blood-soaked missions. Wildlife also plays a role in making the world feel alive.
Leading foxes to their shrines, rescuing wolf packs, or even protecting a bear’s den ties directly into Atsu’s bond with animals. Petting a fox after saving it feels like a quiet reward, while saving wolves strengthens your own wolf companion, who can appear during Onryo’s Howl to slaughter enemies at your side. These moments of tenderness balance the brutality, reminding you that Ezo is more than just a stage for revenge — it’s a land worth protecting.
Another returning activity that deserves mention is the Bamboo Strike challenge, and in Ghost of Yotei, it feels more demanding than ever. These trials require you to press a sequence of buttons in quick succession, testing reflexes and precision. Success rewards you with increased spirit — Atsu’s version of stamina — giving you the endurance needed for tougher duels. What makes these strikes stand out is how physically they push you as a player.
During my training with the dual katanas, I found myself stretching across the D-pad, L1, and R1 in uncomfortable angles, mimicking Atsu’s own struggle to master her craft. The DualSense doesn’t just make this a timing game — it makes it a tactile one, where your fingers feel the strain of her discipline. It’s a clever design choice, reminding you that to fight like Atsu, you need to train like Atsu. Small but brilliantly implemented, Bamboo Strikes add authenticity to her journey.
Visually, Ezo is breathtaking. Sakura and Cherry blossoms swirl in the wind, autumn leaves carpet the plains, and snowstorms roll in with terrifying beauty. Costumes, armor, and weapon dyes are richly detailed, letting you customize Atsu’s look with dazzling colors and ornate designs purchased from merchants. Cartographers sell maps that reveal hidden altars, shrines, or secret painting spots, ensuring exploration always has purpose. And the game constantly rewards curiosity: take a detour and you’ll stumble upon puzzles, hidden doorways, or side quests that feel just as handcrafted as the main path.
The world of Ezo is stunning and you’ll find yourself exploring for hours or simply using Photo Mode to capture gorgeous portraits.
Across my playthrough, I spent about 30 hours completing the main campaign and another 10 exploring freely. Even now, Ezo continues to surprise me with new encounters, fresh activities, and hidden treasures that pull me back in. It’s a world that surpasses the island of Tsushima in scale and in spirit, offering a broader canvas while still capturing the same poetic soul that even I couldn’t ignore, and I often went to the Photo Mode to take screenshots with. The mode offers you options from changing the weather to animating leaves, everything you’d want Yotei to deliver, it’s here.
And what truly brings this vision of 1600s Japan to life is how beautifully it performs. From its vivid foliage to its cinematic lighting, Ghost of Yotei runs like a dream on PlayStation 5 — and that’s where we turn next, to the technical brilliance that makes this world so immersive.
The Ghost Doesn’t Stutter, It Shines
Running Ghost of Yotei on my base PS5 disc edition was nothing short of impressive. I started playing the game in performance mode from the beginning, which provided me with a smooth 120 FPS experience on my 1080p, 180 Hz monitor. The frame rate operated at a consistent rate during the opening combat sequences. No stutters, no screen tearing, no washed-out frames, and crucially, no input lag with the DualSense controller. Combat felt fluid in a way that made parries, dodges, and weapon switches instinctive, as if the hardware and game were speaking the same language.
The game offers three visual modes under the display menu. The Quality mode operates at 30 frames per second and provides a higher resolution. The 30 FPS frame rate appears crisp, but it seems outdated for 2025 because the PS5 operates at such high performance levels. The game needs 60 FPS quality mode for Yotei, but the existing 30 FPS limit reduces its appeal to players who prioritize smooth gameplay over high resolution.
The performance mode provides the most enjoyable gaming experience because it keeps the frame rate at 60 FPS and generates between 90 to 120 FPS for a completely smooth gaming experience in every duel. This method represented the ultimate approach to play, according to me. Then there’s ray tracing mode, which enables high-quality lighting and reflections, but again, at the cost of 30 FPS and a lower resolution (not quite full HD, but still sharp enough). The game achieves its cinematic exploration experience through its capped framerate, but this results in less practical combat gameplay. And across all three settings, cutscenes remain capped at 30 FPS, which can feel a little jarring after playing battles at triple that smoothness.
Even with those limitations, the game’s technical performance is outstanding. I deliberately pushed the system — storming fortresses filled with enemies, spamming explosive bombs, swinging across cliffside ropes — but the PS5 held steady without noticeable dips. Later on, I switched to quality mode to admire Ezo’s landscapes in sharper detail, and even there, the 30 FPS lock remained consistent. Sucker Punch clearly optimized Yotei for the PS5, and it shows.
The accessibility and visual settings deserve credit, too. Alongside the standard, Kurosawa, Miike, and Watanabe visual styles, players can also adjust blood levels, camera fluidity, and cinematic standoffs. Having those options makes the experience customizable, whether you want full player control or stylized drama.
One creative — but divisive choice comes with horse riding. Each time you mount, the aspect ratio shifts from 16:9 to CinemaScope (2.35:1), complete with black bars. It’s clearly meant to channel Kurosawa’s widescreen compositions, but there’s no option to turn it off.
After nearly an hour digging through menus, I confirmed it was a locked feature. While stylish, I often defaulted to fast travel simply because I wanted a full-screen view of Ezo’s beauty. It’s an artistic flourish, but one that feels limiting, and I hope Sucker Punch adds a toggle in a future patch.
The cinemascope screen while riding a Horse hinders with the immersion you’d expect from Yotei during exploration.
Outside of that, performance is nearly flawless. Loading and saving are so fast they’re practically invisible — the PS5’s SSD drops you straight into your checkpoint in seconds, skipping intro screens and menus entirely. Respawns, fast travel, and checkpoint reloads are nearly instantaneous.
On a visual level, Ezo is breathtaking. Blossoms swirl in the wind, snowstorms bury you in white, and fire lights up the night in crimson. Costumes and masks shine in vivid color, and blood splatter across Atsu’s band looks like crimson brushstrokes against the land. Whether you’re in performance mode or pushing visuals with quality or ray tracing, Ghost of Yotei proves itself a benchmark PS5 title where technical polish meets cinematic artistry.
After 40 hours wandering Ezo, I can safely say this is a generational showcase. Smooth, stunning, and deeply immersive, it elevates both gameplay and atmosphere.
Verdict: If Tsushima Was a Painting, Yotei Is the Grindhouse Poster
Ghost of Yotei is not a tale of samurai honor — it’s the life of a shinobi, a ronin carving her path through a land scarred by violence. Where Ghost of Tsushima thrived on the moral dilemma between samurai code and stealth tactics, Yotei offers no such choice. Atsu’s story is a straightforward vendetta, raw and bloody, and it embraces that identity fully. For those who wanted another meditation on honor, this may not hit the same chord. But if you’re drawn to the grit of revenge, the chaos of feudal Japan, and the brutality of living in the shadows, this game delivers in spades.
What elevates it is the balance between savagery and softness. Yes, the combat is bloodier, gorier, and more violent than Tsushima ever was. But woven into that brutality are moments of reflection — songs composed for friends, memories with Atsu’s parents, the bond with her wolf companion — that humanize her quest. These quieter touches make the revenge more personal, reminding you that beneath the rage is a girl who lost everything and now fights to reclaim her soul.
Erika Ishii deserves special praise here. Her performance as Atsu is remarkable, carrying grief, fury, and vulnerability in equal measure. She matches the high bar Daisuke Tsuji set with Jin Sakai and, in many moments, surpasses it. Her voice acting doesn’t just narrate Atsu’s story; it breathes life into it, grounding the bloodshed with humanity.
Of course, it isn’t perfect. The lack of a climactic moral choice, like Jin’s fateful duel with his uncle in Tsushima, makes the ending feel more straightforward than it could have been. Certain sections drag slightly, and the enforced CinemaScope aspect ratio during horse riding feels more restrictive than cinematic. And while the game runs beautifully across all modes, the fact that quality and ray tracing modes are locked at 30 FPS feels underwhelming in 2025, especially on PS5 hardware.
The price point also deserves mention. At $69.99 for the Standard Edition, Ghost of Yotei sits alongside other PlayStation exclusives. For me, it feels closer to a $60 game in terms of graphical breakthrough, especially when compared to something like Death Stranding 2, which pushed technical fidelity further. That said, the sheer scale of the open world, the depth of its systems, and the polish of its combat do justify the premium.
Yet these are small blemishes on what is otherwise a masterwork. The world of Ezo is alive, brutal, and breathtaking. The combat is diverse and fluid, the stealth is more satisfying than ever, and the story, while more direct, hits hard when it matters. Most of all, it proves once again that PlayStation Studios remain unmatched in the art of crafting cinematic single-player experiences.
For me, Ghost of Yotei is a triumph. A symphony of Tarantino’s fury and Kurosawa’s poetry, delivered through the cold steel of Atsu’s kill list. It may not surpass Ghost of Tsushima in every way, but it stands proudly alongside it as a faithful successor that dares to be bloodier, faster, and more personal.
