You do realize that first impressions count? After a lightning-fast, anime-inspired opening to a J-rock hit, Full Metal Schoolgirl launches you into its third-person shooter action. In a futuristic world where robots are oppressed and referred to as “the working dead,” it immediately establishes its irreverent attitude and silly anti-capitalist satire. I thought, “Hell yeah,” with the intention of eliminating a CEO villain. However, I realized halfway through my second run of this roguelike that Full Metal Schoolgirl was a boring and monotonous shooter with gameplay that isn’t nearly strong enough to save it from the mostly tiresome, unrewarding climb up its 100-floor tower.
You have the option of playing as either Ryoko or Akemi, two cyborg anime girls who are both functionally and aesthetically human, during the opening sequence where you break into the evil Maternal Jobz Corporation. The character you choose ends up being the main character, while the other is captured and becomes part of the plot as you go along. The story’s early contempt for corporate nonsense is scathing in a way that made me think of Hi-Fi Rush, and they are seeking retribution against the corporation and its CEO for working their father to death. But like most of Full Metal Schoolgirl, it doesn’t go very far before turning into obnoxious jokes with little to no excitement to drive each run.
It hovers between eyerolling and adorable, and more often leans toward the latter. I have a high threshold for anime clichés. It’s not just because of its crude innuendos; it’s also because of its constant yapping, which detracts from its intriguing subject and lacks any distinctive personality. It’s just unnecessary, and I’m not here to sidestep the attention that is brought to upskirts or the eerie behavior of the doctor who improves your skills. The beginning and the finish are where its clichés truly shine, and everything in between seems to have been omitted in the process, which is where you’ll spend the majority of your time.
After seeing Full Metal Schoolgirl a few times, you’ve seen it all
Each floor consists of square office building rooms that serve as miniature battlegrounds, as well as a network of winding corridors teeming with environmental dangers and opponent fodder. The latter presents you with optional tasks, such as completing the area in a set amount of time or without using heals to earn extra cash for improvements. However, across its 100 procedurally created floors, this general formula remains essentially unchanged. Each floor block may have a slightly different landscape, but the framework remains the same. Drones, bomb-strapped robots, turrets, and mechanized canines are just a few of the enemy kinds they might hurl at you, but no amount of combining them would up for subpar execution.
When some doors lead to a completely empty area or the combat challenge prompts just don’t match the way encounters are set up, it’s plain to see how the procedural generation conflicts with itself. This random level design endures for the most bulk of the 14 hours I spent finishing the campaign, and at best it feels extremely simple, and at worst it is frustratingly untidy. Boss fights serve as the conclusion of blocks of floors, and although they are a welcome change of pace after repeatedly blasting through the same regions, their attack patterns are quite obvious and easy to figure out.
Although they are one-time use, defeating a boss gives you a key to begin a following run at their floor, which is a blessing to break up the unnecessary repetition. Prepare to start from a much lower level, friend, if a run goes sour after using the key and you don’t defeat the following boss twenty-something floors up for the next key. The disappointment of having to slog through the most tedious sections to go back to where you left off doesn’t feel worth it, even though this raises the stakes, as any roguelike worth its salt should. Even so, it becomes simpler as you improve your skills and stats with the money and supplies you gain from each run.
However, the mobility is a bit too sticky for this kind of game, particularly during the tiresome platforming parts. Even though it can be satisfying to slicing through a throng with the dash attack of a katana or the aftershocks of a Labrys axe, melee strikes and jumps are a little unresponsive. Moments like these began to shine, albeit more regularly in the last few floors. The pace at which truly difficult situations arose and the combination of enjoyable-to-use weapons allowed Full Metal Schoolgirl to end on a more positive note than the sheer amount of work required to get there.
Slow shotguns and rifles never made sense to use, but a powerful SMG that had overheated soon became a favorite. As I advanced, I naturally discovered what kinds of weapons worked best for me. In the late game, it became increasingly crucial to learn how to control my energy meter for massive axe combos, avoiding, and hoverdashing. The secret to saving a couple runs was to weave in your auto-attack drone, which you call during a cooldown. Using the limited battery supply (your healing item) wisely also played a part in my combat strategy.
There are times when clearing a challenge room results in common level rarity things that are insignificant compared to rare and legendary gear from much earlier floors since the rarity of the gear you’re rewarded with from challenge rooms is unpredictable. When the shields you equip have a significant effect on your survival, at least this gives the modifiers some meaning because they can change how your health, energy, movement, and damage output function.
Verdict
After seeing Full Metal Schoolgirl a few times, you’ve seen it all. There are good concepts with promise that successfully combine the shooter genre and the roguelike structure; sadly, they are wasted due to fundamental flaws. The loop it produces is dreadfully repetitive with dull level design, whether it is due to a misinterpretation of what makes the genre work or an intentionally derivative take on roguelike games. Its basic gameplay is passable and gets a little better near the finish, so I had some mindless fun, but it’s definitely not good enough to save this boring shooter.
Even while the premise seems promising, the anime-inspired charm rapidly wears off since its cliches get monotonous. In its last hour, I found my rhythm as I climbed the remaining floors with upgrades and gear that were enjoyable to use, but the ascent wasn’t particularly worth the effort.
