Whatever ties this game has to the film noir detective genre are easily outweighed by the many nuances of the story. Beyond the simple narrative structure established by the damsel in distress arriving at the protagonist’s doorstep are a host of complex character interactions. It’s here, buried deep within layers of dialogue, where all the variants lie dormant. Maybe every road leads to that broken window atop a sinister high-rise, but the paths that lead there are numerous and compelling. In spite of my earlier declaration about not attempting a second playthrough, I still find myself drawn back to the beginning. I want to play again, not to seek out some perfect route, but to experience even more of the many stories buried within the larger narrative. I want to make new mistakes and experience new failures. The Red Strings Club is a vehicle for some of the most engrossing cyberpunk stories I’ve witnessed in recent memory. I don’t know that I’ve had anywhere near enough of them, just yet.
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