Heyyy, been a while since one of these, huh? I really wanted to release another book before the end of the year, but Real Life has conspired to keep me from being able to finish it in time, so my only offerings this year will be the two short stories I put out, Samsara and Agave. Here’s hoping next year will be more fruitful on that front. And speaking of pathetic failures, I tried writing a blog post ranking my favorite things of the year back at the end of 2024, but I miserably failed to complete it. In lieu of badgering you with excuses, I’m going to reduce the scope and just write about my favorite mysteries instead. That should be fun. And easier, given that I also only read like 35 books this year, compared to last year’s 68. 2025 should just be called the year of disappointment, huh? Well, life happens equally to everyone, it’s silly to complain. Now, on with the list:
The first season of Shoushimin aired in 2024, but I only caught up to it at the end of the year, and proceeded to read the first two novels, as well as watch Season 2 as it aired, and boy was it a highlight. Hyouka is already one of my favorite mystery anime (and anime in general), and this story, written by the same author and following a very similar style, doesn’t disappoint in the least. I’m far from the first to talk about this, but I think good everyday mysteries might really be the purest love letter to the genre of honkaku mysteries. By reducing the bombast that the crime of murder inevitably brings with it, the best of these stories can really focus on the simple pleasure of a well-laid out mystery. Of course, I adore tense, large-scale murder mysteries, but I can’t deny that one of the most memorable locked rooms I experienced this year was the Hot Cocoa mystery from Shoushimin.
Another great dynamic that the everyday mystery introduces is that the culprit is not necessarily morally bankrupt. Naturally, there can be gray areas and justifying factors, but in a low stakes mystery the culprit will not carry the same moral baggage with them as someone guilty of murder. What this means is that virtually any character could be the architect of a small mystery, including members of the main cast or recurring characters. The mystery can become a vehicle of characterization for these characters, as is the case with the aforementioned Hot Cocoa Mystery.
What I’ve written so far could apply equally well to both Hyouka and Shoushimin (perhaps even more so to Hyouka, as Shoushimin is often more willing to delve closer to the realm of actual crimes than Hyouka, even if not murder). But what sets Shoushimin apart is the amazing dynamic between its two central characters, which I find much more gripping and biting than that of Hyouka’s leads, and which led to some of the most impactful moments in both narratives. I can only hope Yonezawa writes another one of these novels someday, and I’m eager to experience more of his works in this subgenre (and in general).
Also, I can’t not mention how amazing the anime looks. It’s very hard to live up to the standards set by KyoAni, but director Mamoru Kanbe (who also directed The Perfect Insider anime, another favorite of mine) and his staff very much pulled it off.
Oh man, where to begin with this one. Looking at the lauded list of Mephisto Prize winners, from which plenty of the most interesting novels I have read come from (as well as some duds, looking at you Doppelganger Palace), this book has always stood out, not just because of its very unique title, but also because of its striking (in more ways than one) cover: a picture of a dock with an intense, washed-out blue hue to it, and the series detective Kamiki Raichi with her highly contrasting magenta hair (and underwear), it’s always stood out to me. And the book comes with an equally eye-catching gimmick: a Guess-The-Title mystery. The blank spaces of this murder case must be filled in with a popular Japanese idiom of the reader’s guess, providing another fun challenge in addition to the central murder mystery, as well as ensuring that anyone who ever attempts to translate this novel will be in a world of trouble.
Beyond that, the story starts as a relatively conventional, if quite slow, island murder mystery. Protagonist Oki Kentarou and his online friends have their yearly offline meet on the private island of their rich buddy, and all seems normal (outside of one of them bringing along his way-too-young newcomer girlfriend Kamiki Raichi) until a murder occurs. Things seem quite quaint for a while, even having the vibe of a travel mystery at the start (readers seem to have taken issue with a lot of this, because many of the abundant descriptions were cut down from the original Kodansha Novels release when the Bunko came out), and the characters aren’t characterized as particularly outlandish as is the case in a lot of other Mephisto Award-winning shinhonkaku mysteries, though there is a kind of sleazy overtone throughout the whole thing, not just from the overtly sexual content (which shouldn’t be surprising if you know anything about this series detective), but also because you can’t help but wonder just how much these friends really like each other as you read.
And that’s about all I’m willing to say, because what follows is one of the most insane twists I have ever experienced. I think even telling you the emotion that this trick elicited from me would somewhat spoil the experience, but I will say that I was directly inspired by this story in writing one of my recent short stories because I wanted to achieve a similar effect. It’s a short book and it’s very much worth just seeing what the hell it does, so if you know Japanese, please give it a shot.
Two Mephisto Winners in a row, and this one sure follows the trend of having a striking cover, though in the opposite way to Marumaru: Pure darkness outside of three clocks and the extremely bold font spelling its title out, alongside the English subtitle CLOCK END. I always thought it was cool (though the very abstract, cobbled together 3D asset feel of the Bunko cover deserves some recognition too), and it very much fits the vibe of this novel: somber, cool, and in full resignation to the coming end. Clock Castle has one of the coolest settings to a mystery novel I’ve ever seen: a pre-apocalyptic world in disarray, haunted by ghosts of the past and run ragged by totalitarian corporations and secret societies trying to salvage things while the average population has already accepted that the world will soon come to an end. I can see why author Kitayama Takekuni would later be drawn to working on the Danganronpa and Rain Code games, which are similarly dedicated to providing mystery tales set in outlandish settings.
The premise goes like this: edgy ghostbuster detective Minami Miki (not a girl, despite the girly name) and his mysterious childhood friend assistant Shinomi Nami are tasked to investigate a spooky apparition called Skipman said to reside within the Clock Castle. They get the job from Kurou Ruka, daughter of Kurou Shinji, who owns the castle (it’s not a real castle btw just like, a big house) and uses it to perform some super secret scary research, and who isn’t particularly happy to have a detective snooping around. The castle is also inhabited by various other residents, servants and guests, all of whom are very much oddballs.
Now, I feel like discussing his style here might be too much of a hint towards what kind of a solution you should expect, but if you know anything about Kitayama, you know he has a very particular style of mystery he loves doing, and which I quite like. That being said, I can’t help but feel that what he did here was a bit of a letdown, not because it’s bad by any means, but because he simply set up such an interesting world with so many different moving parts and aspects to it, that by the end of it I felt like most had gone without a proper payoff. From what I know, the Castle Series books aren’t connected either, so I can’t really expect him to pay off on them in another book. And sadly, most of the characters in this book were also quite bland and underdeveloped, even those that really should be more interesting given their role. I don’t want to come across as too negative, because I did have fun with the book, and it was interesting enough for me to want to talk about it here, but I think I had a much better time reading Kitayama’s Danganronpa Kirigiri books, which I think have a better balance of interesting world and mystery as well as character stuff. Still, if the other Castle books are as unique as this, I’ll be sure to read sooner rather than later.
Ahh, The Centennial Case, what a interesting one this is. If there is anything I appreciate about this game, it’s that it really is a mystery fan’s mystery game, down to the fact that the release of one of Ellery Queen’s books is put on the same level as World War I and the Great Hanshin Earthquake on the game’s timeline. The Centennial Case also has a very ambitious premise for a mystery: a case spanning a hundred years, all revolving around the Shijima family. You play as mystery writer Haruka Kagami, and alternate between her trying to piece everything together in the present, as well as flashing back to the past through various written documents and experiencing self-contained cases, all of which tie into the larger conspiracy of the Shijima case. All of this I really like: the structure of self-contained cases which tie together into a larger whole is perhaps my favorite formula for a story, and there are some really fun ideas in these cases. I enjoyed going through them, and I enjoyed playing as Haruka and the various figures from the past (mainly Yoshino, she is cool).
Unfortunately, where the Centennial Case kind of loses me is in just how small scale its cases are. I always appreciate a game that respects the player’s time and doesn’t drag for longer than necessary, and I imagine there were also limitations in terms of how much live action footage the developers could feasibly take, but I find myself disappointed at just how barebones a lot of these cases are in terms of underlying narrative. You really don’t get to know the casts or absorb the atmosphere that much, and I think that’s a real shame, because I wish I could have been a lot more attached to this narrative than I really was. Also, the gameplay may have showed promise at first, but it really wound up being a slog by the end, to the point that I would have kinda preferred it not even being there. That being said, while the smaller cases often disappoint, I think there is a lot to love about the larger picture, especially one aspect of the main trick which I think was really well done and perfectly paid off on the structure of the story. The acting is also quite good, and doesn’t feel corny at all most of the time, which is a lot more than I can say for many actual Japanese dramas/movies I have experienced. Yuki Kaji even shows up in there for some reason, what is he doing there! I don’t think the Centennial Case is going to rock anyone’s world, but at a brisk 15 hours of playtime, I think it’s worth a shot for anyone who likes mystery games.
I am often made fun of for liking most of what I read, since it comes across like I have no standards. I think that’s pure slander, I just happen to always want to extract some positive element out of every media experience I have, because I find that more constructive. Still, though, it gets to me sometimes, which is why I treasure the few things I really hate in life, and Souji Shimada’s Crooked House Mystery is one of them. In retrospect, I don’t really know why I had such a strong reaction to it, since it doesn’t really commit any sin that Ellery Queen hasn’t already, but somehow its combination of a shallow, unlikeable cast, unexciting investigation, almost impressively ludicrous trick and motive pulled straight out of the writer’s ass at the last minute, really ticked me off when I read it. So for a long time, I treated Shimada as my mystery punching bag, and I unfortunately must take this occasion to rectify that and reflect on my judgements, because the Tokyo Zodiac Murder Case was every bit the amazing mystery novel that everyone says it is.
I’m sure I don’t have to introduce this one, it’s one of the novels credited with starting the shinhonkaku boom, alongside Ayatsuji’s Decagon House, so in a way I owe part of my being here writing this to this very book. But while I have my issues with Decagon House even as I love Ayatsuji’s House Series, I think this one holds up quite well actually. Over half of this book is spent in one room with two dudes talking about an old famous case, and I think it’s a credit to the book that I found that part of it even more entertaining than when they actually go out and start doing stuff. Crooked House had Ishioka and Mitarai come in pretty late and, while Mitarai was pretty entertaining amidst the dreary cast in that book, I still didn’t really get much out of him, but I think I understand his appeal a lot better after reading this. And, of course, the trick is fantastic and everything that an elegant mystery trick should be: ingeniously simple and yet incredibly striking. This has increased the prospects of me ever reading another Shimada book tenfold, so that’s cool. Let’s hope more of them are hits than misses.
In an effort to familiarize myself more with the Golden Age of mystery novels, I’ve undertaken the journey of reading all of the Ellery Queen books in release order, which hasn’t been a terribly efficient process considering after like 2 years I’m only on the fourth one, but it’s been a rewarding one nonetheless. I quickly realized I would have to space these books out, because Queen’s writing style(s?) are not the kind of thing I can stomach easily outside of doing it in short bursts. The best way I can put it as an Umineko fan is that Erika Furudo would probably be a fan of Queen. For as meticulous and intricately plotted as these books are, they are equally as uninterested in anything like telling a story or exploring the human beings that make up its casts. Luckily I find Ellery and Richard Queen to be fun characters, and so it’s somewhat fun to follow along as they uncover clues, but without an actual emotional narrative to latch myself to I found it difficult to really enjoy these novels, and I tended to forget most of the stories not long after finishing them, outside of the broad strokes.
Still, I think it was very much worth going in order and taking the time to familiarize myself with this style, because in doing so I could fully appreciate just what a fun book The Greek Coffin Mystery is. It’s not particularly different from the others. Ellery is still just as much of a grandiloquent asshole, the narrative is still just as lacking in emotions and the side characters are just as paper thin, but what this book is, is the early Queen formula perfected. Whereas in previous books my mind might wander upon hitting some particularly long sequence of dry reasoning, this time around I was locked in all the way through, and I could tell just how satisfying and meticulous this writing is. Small objects the average person would forget are not only turned into clues, but the full implications of their placement and existence are then dissected with surgical accuracy to bring about perfectly airtight conclusions. The real draw of Ellery Queen books, at least of the early ones, is not the promise of an exciting, mind-bending mystery (even if the premise of this one was pretty striking in its own right), but instead a showcase of craftsmanship, of a mystery which turns with the beauty of exposed clockwork. It isn’t, and will never really be, my style, but by reading these in order I have learned to appreciate it much more, and I think there’s plenty to learn as a mystery writer by digging into these. I hope the rest of the Queen repertoire can be as engaging as this one was, even if it never develops any interest in exploring human beings beyond their mechanical ability to perform murder.
The Perfect Insider, especially its anime adaptation, is perhaps the best locked room mystery I’ve ever experienced. It isn’t my favorite, there are stories that are closer to my heart, but I think the Perfect Insider delivers on the promise of a locked room murder trick that truly no one had done before in the hundred and fifty year history of this genre, and it did so by fully leaning in to both the high tech aspirations of the new millennium as well the hyperreal influence of otaku media, and while delivering an interesting story with fun characters to boot. So even if there are criticisms to be levied at it, especially at the novel, whose plot the anime refined, I think it’s still worthy of its reputation. And so it was always going to be a challenge to follow it up with the rest of the S&M Series, and the second book, Doctors in the Isolated Room, had even fewer chances at matching its predecessor by virtue of having actually been written first by a less experienced Mori (even if it was only by a few months). Even having had a good time with it, I couldn’t help but be a little disappointed by the simplicity of that book, so I went into this third installment with tempered expectations. Fortunately, this one managed to meet and exceed all of them.
Doctors saw us exploring what was essentially the backyard of Saikawa and Moe, university professor and student respectively, as it was set in a university laboratory with student and professor characters. Mathematical Goodbye, on the other hand, is a lot closer to the vibe of The Perfect Insider, as it’s set in the Three Star Mansion, a famous building designed by a well-known architect and home to an eccentric shut-in genius mathematician by the name of Tennouji Shouzou. The latter point is instantly reminiscent of Magata Shiki, and the book definitely delivers on exploring some of those same themes from a different angle with Tennouji’s character. We have plenty of great moments of Saikawa and especially Moe here, and while the trick is nowhere near as revolutionary (a man can’t be expected to reinvent the wheel every time) and a lot more easily predictable, it’s still extremely elegant and ties into the motifs of the book perfectly. I’m excited to see what other adventures Saikawa and Moe get up to next, and I’m especially eager to get to the books written after Perfect Insider and see how Mori will step up his game there.
Us honkaku fans often joke about how English localizations of Japanese mystery novels feel the need to add Tokyo to the title (like Tokyo Zodiac Murders, for instance, which was originally just called The Astrology Murder Case), but here for once we have a book that does have Tokyo in the title, and most of it isn’t even set there! Tokyo Bonded Human, aka Honestman as per its English subtitle, aka Tokyo Ketsugou Ningen, the Japanese title which I will use from now on because I think it sounds cooler, is my first Shirai Tomoyuki novel, and oh boy was it one hell of an introduction. DwAM has a great blog post talking about his works, but basically his schtick is writing shock value mystery novels, and he sure is set on delivering in full on every word in that phrase. In the setting of Tokyo Ketsugou Ningen, human beings procreate not through sex, but through the process of one member of a couple, usually the girl, entering headfirst inside the rear end of the other one, whereupon they will fuse into one single creature known as a Bonded Human, a tall, genderless human with four arms, four legs and four eyes which is capable of birthing new life (if you have trouble imagining that, don’t worry, the book opens on an excruciating scene showcasing this process in detail). If that isn’t already the most insane thing you’ve ever heard, there’s also the caveat that, upon fusion, a rare neurological anomaly can occur in which, very rarely, an Honestman will be born, a Bonded Human that is physically incapable of lying.
Hidden underneath this bizarre setting I’m sure you can already see plenty of mechanical potential for an interesting mystery, and that appears to be a magic trick Shirai loves doing: hide a tree not in a forest, but in a field full of shit so gross or strange or immortal that you’ll be too busy reeling to actually see it. It’s certainly effective, though it comes with the caveat that this is NOT FOR THE FAINT OF HEART. I say this as a fan of Maijou Outarou who breezed through Tsukumojuuku without issue, but this novel actually made me feel sick to my stomach. Outside of the anatomical horror inherent to this setting, a main theme explored here is child abuse, and that’s about as much as I’ll describe here. There’s certainly a barrier of entry, I’ll say that much, though I’m no moralist and in fact quite lacking in morals, so I very much appreciate the fact that the publishing industry still has room for vile shit like this. Aiming for pure shock may not be the most admirable thing, but Shirai has taken up the mission of painting a horrible world where everyone sucks and the only people who don’t suck get the worst possible outcome, and there’s almost something beautiful in the purity of that vision. Beyond that though, the mystery here is actually brilliant. At a structural level the book is split up into two main sections which are linked together in a very interesting way that I won’t spoil here, and Shirai has that same sense for Queenian logic, utilizing intricate clues and small details to rule out possibilities and arrive at the truth in an elegant manner, while also using the special characteristics of the setting in an inventive way create satisfying twists. I’ll definitely be reading more Shirai in the future, though I just have to overcome the trauma first.
Strictly speaking, this is not a story that I experienced for the first time this year. I’d already read the manga years ago and already loved it, but this is the first time I read the novel, courtesy of the great fan translation by ShwampBam of the Isla Execution Squad. And with all due respect to the great manga by Mitsuru Hattori, I definitely think this is the sort of story that needs to be experienced in the form of a novel to be fully appreciated. It’s no surprise that Nisio Isin is one of my favorite authors of all time, at one time unquestionably my favorite. I’ve grown somewhat distant from his recent works lately, but I can’t deny that his DNA exists in every sentence of fiction I’ve ever written, and so this kind of novel feels 100% targeted at me.
Written under the pretense of being a confessional, a non-fiction novel from the author’s perspective relating the incident which turned him from a fledgling aspiring author to a true author, this is far from a conventional mystery novel, and indeed you might say it’s not a mystery novel at all, but as Jared E. Jellson of the Orient Express has put it better than I ever could, this is a book about solving the mystery of another human being, the impossible case of an incomprehensible action, the locked room of a traumatic event. In other words, this is the story of a mystery writer obsessed with mysteries trying to untangle his own feelings in a way that only a mystery maniac would, and at the same time an author of over a hundred stories now trying to express just what it is that sits at the core of his writing philosophy. Nisio Isin is a writer obsessed with form, with genre conventions and stylistic constraints and with the underlying assumptions that these things prompt from the reader, and I think a lot of his stories can be read as very elaborate jokes in that sense, driven by clever punchlines that make you reassess your own meta expectations of any given genre, be it the limits of fairplay in Zaregoto, the question of what a fight scene really is in Katanagatari, or the principles that drive all Shounen Jump manga in Medaka Box. If I had to guess, I would imagine that’s where everything starts with him, and any deeper profundity that these stories bring is something that emerges because of this desire to play with form; similarly, I think he probably came up with the idea of Imperfect Girl because he wanted to play with the genre expectation of an author confessional, down to the blub on the back of the book: Sorry, but you won’t be finding a plot summary here.
I stress all this to say that I don’t think depth or meaning comes from some ethereal wellspring of authorial intent, some mystical mission to set down your truth in writing. You can just write something because it sounds like a fun experiment, and your authenticity will shine through, and it will become a story that means something to someone. That’s the truth that a writer can convey, the difference between a writer and an aspiring writer, who can only tell lies. This is by far the best novel I’ve read all year. If you’ve ever enjoyed a Nisio Isin book, or if you’ve ever wanted to become an author, or if you’ve ever felt like an insufficient human being, like you lack something that everyone else seems to have, I highly recommend you read this novel.
Three years after Glass Onion, the previous Benoit Blanc mystery, we finally have our third installment: Wake Up Dead Man, which promises the first (and hopefully not last) locked room mystery of this series. As always, it's a lot of fun. The Blanc mysteries always strike the perfect balance of having enough ambition in their tricks and dedication to fair play to excite me, while still trying to tell a grounded human story around a main character you can root for and enjoy, and the result never fails to entertain. I think Glass Onion tried perhaps a bit too hard to subvert genre expectations in a way that ended up feeling half-baked, though it was still fun in its own way, but I was glad to see that in the case of WUDM we pretty much have a mystery played straight. I think this hints at a trajectory of commenting on genre conventions in a more subtle way while writing deeper stories that take advantage of the format of a mystery, and I'll certainly be glad to see that continue.
WUDM has the best underlying story of the three for sure: Jud is a great protagonist, relatable and yet unique in his dedication to his faith, and an all around joy to follow, and Jefferson Wicks is a fascinating character played with all of the charisma that the role required to make him into the intimidating manipulator that he is. I always love it when victims in mystery novels still have build-up and intrigue to them, and Wicks still has plenty of presence even after his death. Blanc is pretty great in this one too, I think we see an interesting side of him and a nice subtle arc of his own as he learns from Jud. Also, I was apalled by his hair when I saw the trailer, but by now I think I prefer him looking like this.
I think the common criticism this movie gets is that the side characters don't get enough of a role in the narrative, and I kind of agree. There are at least two characters here that you could cut out entirely without really changing much of anything about the plot, and that's definitely an issue, though I am sympathetic with the plight of having to cut everything down to a reasonable movie length. The impossibility is also not particularly difficult to solve if you have any knowledge of the genre, but it's still fun enough and serves the story well enough that I enjoy it nonetheless. Looking forward to the next time Blanc makes his appearance on the big screen!
Totally not inspired by a certain movie I may have just talked about, I decided to read The Hollow Man, also known as The Three Coffins, aka the greatest locked room mystery there ever was (as decided in the 80s by Hoch, one half of Ellery Queen and 15 other guys). That's certainly quite the title to live up to, and while I've already given my own nomination earlier with The Perfect Insider, I can definitely see why this was chosen.
I've only read two other Carr novels, Constant Suicides and Till Death Do Us Part, both of which were solid but neither of which particularly outstanding, so I came into this with tempered expectations, but I found myself on the edge of my seat the whole way through. The Hollow Man distills into a pure spirit the kind of excitement that a great locked room mystery will bring: a frenzied desire to learn the truth behind a crime which truly seems impossible for a human being to commit. Putting aside even the matter of reasoning and fairplay, the elements which give a locked room its weight, there is a simple excitement one feels when shown such an impossible trick and given the assurance that there is an answer behind it. Oftentimes a bombastic premise will disappoint with lackluster reasoning, and while I'm perhaps more permissive than most when it comes to forgiving logical leaps for the sake of a grand trick, I still need a logic I can buy, or at the very least enjoy some element of, in order to accept a mystery. That may be true, and yet I can't deny that perhaps my favorite state of being is in the interplay between an impossible problem and the assurance that it is nonetheless possible and fair. There is no greater high for me than wondering just how such an incredible situation could be real. It's a high that I felt while playing Umineko or while reading Cosmic or any of DWaM's works. And when a mystery can give me that high and then justify it without betraying me, there is no greater feeling in the world, and that's exactly what The Hollow Man does.
Outside of its own mystery, what The Hollow Man is perhaps even more famous for is Dr. Fell's Locked Room Lecture. I'd already heard of the lecture from Abiko Takemaru's 8 Mansion Murder and, more recently, WUDM, so I went in looking forward to it, and BOY did it not disappoint. I won't rob anyone of learning just what makes that sequence so daring, but I had my mouth agape the whole way through. That's the kind of sequence I would expect from a shinhonkaku novel today, but the fact that it was written in the 30s is insane to me. Beyond that point, I find that it really captures just what is so wonderful about locked rooms perfectly, and the fact that it was included in what must have been a revolutionary example at the time makes the whole volume feel like a love letter to the genre.
I could complain about its weaknesses, like the characters being mostly forgettable, or Fell not really being my favorite detective, or some of the confusing portions of trick's mechanics, but I don't feel a need to, because the book is plenty special in spite of those issues. I still don't think it beats out The Poisoned Chocolates Case for greatest Golden Age novel that I've read in my eyes, but it sure gets to a close second.
I’m kinda scamming you with this section heading. You see, the main reason I was bummed that I never got last year’s favorite things post out is because 2024 was when I read most of DWaM’s original works, and I wanted to talk about them. This year I only read the above mentioned two, but I’ll be taking this chance to speak on everything I’ve read from him, which includes most of the original works and almost all of the Umineko fan works.
If there happen to be any billionaire financiers reading this right now, please give DWaM a million dollars so he can spend all his time writing stuff (and spare me a dime or two while you’re at it). Reading his works has been some of the most fun I’ve had with mysteries in recent memory. Everything I wrote about the Hollow Man is true of the mystery premises that DWaM comes up with. They’re almost always impossible crimes, and they never fail to induce that exhilarating high of being on the edge of your seat waiting to find out the solution. And the only thing better than the premises of these mysteries are the solutions; when he pulls back the curtain and reveals his trick it never fails to impress. They’re often outlandish and elaborate ruses, but they have an underlying logic that is so incredibly creative in how it ties together every element of the narrative. They stretch the limits of fair play in the best way possible.
It's not just the pure mystery writing that I love DWaM’s works for, but also the general character writing and theming. He usually goes for a more somber, sober mood, often featuring depressed or jaded protagonists, bordering on noir at times, which clashes in an interesting way with the extremely shinhonkaku style of mystery. It often feels like taking an average person and dropping them headfirst into the shoes of a Great Detective without any sort of guidance, and the ensuing desperation and confusion makes for incredibly gripping investigations. The denouements of the respective cases, then, feel like a point of catharsis in the lives of these characters as they uncover the grand truths behind the conspiracies they were embroiled in. This is true of both The Leviathan’s Resting Place, which follows an incredibly relatable and likeable narrator as she investigates the murder of a millionaire she worked for that died inside an airplane, as well as The Phantom Ragdoll, which has at its center a very unique dynamic of two men investigating an impossible crime inside a train compartment.
Still, even as they have their typical tropes and similar vibes, none of DWaM’s works are the exact same either. I always look forward to checking out another one of his stories and wondering just what sort of narrative I will get. For instance, A Eulogy for Reason is an epic narrative about the end of the world told from many different interlocking points of view as they intersect with a certain locked room case. Or Hear the Devil Sing, the very personal story of a writer who has to investigate his own murder after being reborn twenty years into the future, the entire narrative filtered through his fascinating spiraling thoughts. Or his most recent novel, The Gospel of V, and absolutely insane meta ride about two editors trying to solve the outlandish impossible mystery inside a bizarre manuscript left behind by a missing writer, the real and fictional cases interweaving with one another. Each one of these is amazing in its own right, and depending on the reader any one of them could easily be a favorite (my heart was the most moved by Hear the Devil Sing, though I adore all three).
I still have a few stories left before I’m all caught up on DWaM’s bibliography, but I’m trying to space them out because I dread the day when I’m out of more DWaM to read. I highly recommend anyone reading this that hasn’t already to go check him out. In the meantime, I will be very eagerly awaiting whatever he puts out next.
There’s still some non-mystery things I’ve experienced this year that I feel the need to mention, but if I didn’t restrain myself in some way things would get out of hand and you would never see this post either, so in the interest of balance I will limit myself to tweet-sized thoughts.
1. 17776: What football will look like in the future
A beautiful, comforting and sometimes haunting story about what it would be like to live in a world beyond conflict and death, one in which the only thing there is to live for is play. I can tell that Jon Bois is just as much of a nerdly maniac about football (and sports in general) as I am about mysteries, and that passion is something I will always respect, even though I could not care less about sports.
2. Boogiepop Paradox: Heartless Red
Boogiepop is my favorite novel series alongside Zaregoto, and I always have the time of my life whenever I read another volume, which I why I’m trying to space them out so I don’t run out any time soon. This volume is one of the best, with a vibe reminiscent of the best parts of At Dawn, and following badass central character Akemi Kurenai is a ton of fun, alongside Nagi, who is always great.
3. All Tomorrows: The Myriad Species and Mixed Fortunes of Man
A short but certainly impactful read. It’s certainly nothing like what I would normally enjoy, a book bereft of any kind of narrative or plot of any kind, simply relating the future of mankind over a billion years of evolution (and involution). It brings with it a cosmic, existentialist kind of horror with its clinical, detached descriptions of death and bloodshed at a simply unimaginable scale, though it ultimately ends with a simple and yet powerful message that I think will stick with me for a while.
4. Hotel Dusk: Room 215
Or its better Japanese title, Wish Room: Memory of an Angel. I started this one at the end of 2024 and finished it near the start of 2025, and it certainly felt appropriate for such a liminal period, as the entire game is tinged with the feeling of being in-between, as is the nature of a hotel. It’s a detective game in a sense, but certainly not a honkaku mystery, though that’s not to say its story isn’t worth experiencing. I could have done with fewer of the clunky minigames, but I really enjoyed being in the shoes of KYLE HYDE and talking to all the cooky guests of the hotel. I will definitely be playing the sequel, Last Window, sometime soon.
5. Z.A.T.O. // I Love the World and Everything In It
I played very few visual novels this year, but I’m glad ZATO was one of them. Even with its short runtime it manages to do quite a lot and certainly leave an impact. The main thing I enjoyed about it was the narration, with protagonist Asya being an incredibly likeable girlfailure with a really unique perspective that makes the story’s best moments really memorable. The plot also goes in some interesting directions which, while I think could have been elaborated upon with more time, are still very conceptually cool.
6. Geminism
This one is quite the mixed bag. Everything about the way this story is structured and the ideas it explores and even its characters I really like, but in practice it kind of ends up being quite dull for a majority of its runtime. It only really shines in small portions, and while the end is very good and left a good taste in my mouth, I can’t help but feel like a VN this short squandering much of its story is not the sign of a very well executed game. Still, there is nothing quite like Geminism, and that’s something I appreciate.
7. The Legend of Heroes: Trails to Azure
Azure and Zero, the Crossbell duology of Trails, has probably been the best JRPG experience I’ve ever had. I already absolutely loved Sky, and playing as Estelle is a joy that is not easily matched, but Crossbell just takes everything about the Sky formula and refines it to perfection. Since both games take place in the relatively small setting of Crossbell, you really have the time to fall in love with the city and its inhabitants, and I certainly did. Can’t think of a video game setting I am more fond of. The story, too, is paced much better, and hits themes that are a lot deeper and more powerful, I felt. All in all, an unforgettable set of games, I can’t help but wonder if later Trails will really be able to outdo or even match these ones.
8. ENA: Dream BBQ (Chapter One)
My personal game of the year. I LOVE ENA, I love the unapologetic weirdness of this series and all of its incomprehensible characters and setpieces, and I love the odd profundity that it manages to sometimes hit as its absurdist world aligns itself to communicate a deeper message, even as that message remains obscure and hard to figure out. And Dream BBQ takes all of that, which the web series already had, and upped it a hundredfold. As much as I loved old happy and sad ENA, the salesperson and meanie ENA is simply iconic. And the amazing quality at which the world of the Lonely Door and all of its inhabitants are rendered is incredible. I hope Joel G and the rest of the team can match this quality with the future chapters.
9. Tales From Off-Peak City Vol. 1
Speaking of oddball walking simulators, this sure is one of them. There really is nothing I’ve ever seen that feels quite like the world of Off-Peak City, and especially not its incredible sound design. The soundtrack in this game truly feels like a living, breathing part of the world, down to the way your pizza-making process creates music along with it. The story of this game is a bizarre one, of secret experiments and authoritarian governments and a whole lot of pizza, and I’m still waiting to see where it will go whenever this continues (though I also need to play the rest of the related games).
10. Chrono Trigger
Yes, this year is the first time I experienced this RPG classic, and I had a great time with it. It’s certainly not some kind of incredible narrative, but its breezy, simple and fun adventure vibe was certainly a welcome change of pace after the intricate plot of Crossbell. It really is a blast filled with unique setpieces, and even manages to hit some dark and high concept themes at times, though it does so without ever getting lost in the details, and that’s something I can appreciate. The half-real time combat is also a really fun idea which holds up pretty well, even today. My only complaint is that the Steam Port crashed so damn often, it’s insane.
11. Decarnation
A pixel art horror game that I played on a whim not very long before the writing of this post, but it ended up being quite the memorable experience. The most standout element of it is simply how beautiful it is, especially the environments within Gloria’s mind palace, which are breathtaking. The plot is also very different from what I had expected, and while I would say there are parts of it that I wish had been expanded upon a little more, it was overall a very enjoyable journey with a really strong and likeable protagonist.
12. Inland Empire
My first experience with anything made by David Lynch (just in time to feel sad about his passing). I’d wanted to watch this movie ever since playing Disco Elysium and seeing the skill named after it, and now that I have, boy does the title make sense. I can’t give a particularly deep analysis of what this movie is, but as a sensory experience it was unmatched, the vibe of this movie is incredible. Gonna watch Twin Peaks at some point.
13. Rosencrantz & Guildenstern Are Dead
Gonna be honest with you, I’ve never actually seen Hamlet, so perhaps I’m missing the necessary background to really appreciate this work, but I gotta say, even without that, this movie (and the play it was made from probably) was a blast. Tim Roth and Gary Oldman, two guys just being dudes while the meta framework of their existence collapses around them, what could be better. One day I’ll be sure to watch Hamlet and rewatch this and see if I get more out of it that way, but this was still one of my favorite movies I watched this year off the vibe alone.
14. Eyes Wide Shut
Speaking of vibes, boy is this one something. This entire movie feels like a fever dream in the best way possible, and I can’t help but think back to its story occasionally, even long after I saw it. The strangeness is couched by realism in such a way as to lull you into the story’s rhythm, which is very reminiscent of how a long dream might feel. Also, this and Interview with the Vampire are the only movies I’ve seen Tom Cruise in, and I feel like that is painting a very different image of this actor for me than the average person might have.
15. What We Do in the Shadows
I LOVE VAMPIRES. I kinda slowed down with the vampire movies in 2025 after watching a ton of them in 2024, I only saw this and the new Nosferatu, so hopefully 2026 can once again be the year of the vampire for me. And man is this a fun one, all the characters are extremely entertaining, especially Taika Waititi, who seemingly can’t help but make all of his roles a joy to watch (even Hitler). I was bummed to find out the show doesn’t share any of the characters, but I’ll still probably watch it at some point.
16. Peep “TV” Show
Between this and Love & Pop, the 2000s sure had a plethora of strange bleak low budget Japanese movies, huh? This movie is edgy in the best way possible, in that it really captures something real about the experience of being alive in the era of the internet that few other stories can be this honest and raw about. Reality is only becoming harder and harder to discern under mountains of abstraction, and it’s hard not to feel like people are growing more and more disconnected. I think there really is something to learn from this grimy, ugly movie under the circumstances. Also there’s a montage where the characters take upskirt photos and aurafarm over the sickest music you’ve ever heard and it’s something to behold.
17. Sleuth
I think this could reasonably fall under the umbrella of anti-mystery, which I personally also consider mystery. This is far from the only work that explores the disconnect between the abstractions of the mystery genre and real-life crime (Nabokov’s Despair comes to mind), but it sure does so in an extremely entertaining way. I love extremely minimalist stories, ones where you can make an entire entertaining narrative out of two dudes talking in one location, and boy does this movie accomplish exactly that. Anything more I could say about it might just take away from the experience, so go watch it if you haven’t.
18. Ichi the Killer
This movie is a blast. Apparently it's considered one of if not the most violent movie of all time, but honestly I a lot of the violence was so absurd and nonsensical that it didn’t really make me flinch (a few of the exceptions include the violence against women in this, which sure is relentless). Either way though, I found the effect of this absurd violence very interesting, because coupled with the fact that we basically have zero characters in this movie that aren’t terrible, you start viewing the entire thing from a vantage point outside morality itself. At a certain point I really was just rooting for Kakihara’s hedonistic quest earnestly, without really caring about any of the misery he brings about, and that’s interesting if nothing else (the fact that he is very hot also helps I’m sure).
19. DANDADAN
I watched season 1 when it aired in 2024 but season 2 was this year, so what the hell, I’m counting it here. There’s really not much I could say about Dandadan that other people haven’t already yapped about, it’s one of the most popular shows in recent memory, but I really do just appreciate how the absurdist reality that the story is set in punctuates the earnest emotions of the characters. It reminds me a lot of Mob Psycho 100 in that way. The ridiculous comedy never takes away from the moments of serious terror or devastation, and in fact helps sell the impact a lot more. Perhaps there is something about the loose sense of reality that characterizes what it’s like to be a teenager, in a way that connects with people.
20. Lupin the 3rd Part One
I started my journey into the world of Lupin the 3rd in 2024, and it took me a whole ass year to finish Part One, which is only 23 episodes. That should tell you just how terrible I am at watching anime, but I’ve recently accepted that the best way to watch this show is on my second monitor while drawing, and I’ve made a lot more progress that way. A series as long as Lupin is probably going to be many very different things at different times throughout its lifetime, but what struck me about Part One, especially the early episodes, is just how heavy some of them were, especially contrasted with the later half that is pretty much all slapstick. The episode about the weird flower drug island is an example that sticks out to me. I enjoy the core cast a lot (especially Fujiko and Lupin), so I’m very eager to see them evolve.
And that was everything! I’ve yapped more than enough, so how about we wrap this up without much fanfare. See you with another one of these in a year, hopefully.
December 26, 2025