Many players, especially those raised on titles like The Elder Scrolls and Fallout, possess an insatiable desire for virtual treasures. The mere presence of a large quantity next to an item in a game often compels us to hoard, filling our digital bags to capacity before journeying back to a marketplace for profit. This ingrained behavior, often dubbed 'loot-brain', can lead to tedious, repetitive cycles of gathering and selling, raising questions about the true value and meaningfulness of such abundance.
The standard practice in most RPGs of limiting carry capacity to a simple numerical weight, indicating when a character is 'overencumbered', often feels uninspired. This restriction typically funnels players back to a central hub to offload goods, a mechanism that, while sometimes useful for nudging players towards interaction with NPCs and quest acquisition, often feels like an artificial barrier rather than an engaging challenge. It's a system that prioritizes calculation over creativity.
Unlike many traditional RPGs, games like Death Stranding 2 redefine the concept of carry capacity, turning it into an almost aesthetic and highly personalized feature. Players aren't just limited by weight; they can visually and physically arrange items on their character's body, from strapping packages to limbs to stacking towering loads on their backs, or even utilizing unique transport tools. This innovative design transforms a mundane mechanic into a unique expression of gameplay style and strategic organization, allowing for a more intimate connection with the protagonist's burden.
While Death Stranding 2's focus on cargo is central to its identity, the core idea of making inventory management more tangible holds broader appeal. Titles such as Kingdom Come: Deliverance 2 and Red Dead Redemption 2 offer compelling examples of how detailed gear systems, incorporating elements like layered armor, attire cleanliness, and distinct weapon placements, can elevate the player's connection to their equipment. These games demonstrate that even seemingly minor details can contribute significantly to the immersive simulation, making the act of preparing for an adventure a satisfying ritual.
Consider the potential if RPGs adopted a more visually and physically intuitive approach to inventory. Imagine a mage whose pouches visibly bulge with meticulously organized components, a barbarian who becomes a walking arsenal of strapped-on weapons, or a rogue subtly concealing an array of hidden gadgets. Such a system would not only add visual richness but also encourage a more strategic and discerning approach to loot acquisition. Rather than simply managing abstract numbers, players would engage with their possessions as tangible items, adding layers of value and consequence to every piece of equipment. This shift could foster a more cutthroat, 'kill your darlings' mentality, akin to extraction shooters, where the true worth of an item is felt in its physical presence and the choices it demands.