- Release Year: 2024
- Platforms: Windows
- Publisher: Oedipe games
- Genre: Action
- Perspective: Behind view
- Gameplay: Hack and Slash
- Setting: Futuristic, Sci-fi
- Average Score: 83/100

Description
Action Fubuki is a fast-paced hack-and-slash game set in a sci-fi futuristic world where players control Fubuki GORO, a female ninja assassin from the GORO clan, sent by the Special Action Agency to eliminate Elon DUSK, the CEO of EXE company, who is illegally experimenting on humans to create super soldiers. Utilizing Goro Taijutsu and chakra-based special techniques while managing stamina, Fubuki must navigate a hazardous facility filled with diverse enemies in this action-packed mission.
Gameplay Videos
Where to Buy Action Fubuki
PC
Action Fubuki Reviews & Reception
churapereviews.com : I can’t recommend this game.
Action Fubuki: A Cult Obscurity Buried in the 2024 Deluge
Introduction: The Ghost in the Machine
In the vast, data-driven archives of video game history, some titles surface as mere blips—cataloged but scarcely commented upon, existing in a state of perpetual obscurity. Action Fubuki is one such phantom. Released on February 19, 2024, for Windows and published by the enigmatic “Oedipe games,” this title arrived not with a fanfare but with a digital whimper, an entry in the MobyGames database collected by a single user and devoid of any critic or community reviews. Yet, within its scant Steam store description lies a promise of a very specific, almost anachronistic fantasy: a fast-paced, mouse-controlled hack-and-slash starring a ninja kunoichi battling genetically modified super-soldiers in a sci-fi conspiracy. This review posits that Action Fubuki is not a forgotten gem but a poignant artifact of indie development’s chaotic edge—a game that embodies the high-risk, low-visibility reality of launching in an oversaturated market during an industry-wide contraction. Its legacy is not one of acclaim, but of stark, unvarnished existence.
Development History & Context: The Solitary Developer’s Gauntlet
The studio behind Action Fubuki, “Oedipe games,” is a virtual ghost. No credits, no website, no social media footprint emerges from the digital ether. This suggests a micro-indie operation, likely a solo developer or a tiny team operating under a pseudonym. The chosen tools—Unreal Engine 4 and PhysX—speak to a pragmatic, if resource-intensive, approach. UE4 offers high-fidelity visuals out-of-the-box but demands significant technical proficiency; its use here indicates a developer aiming for a polished aesthetic beyond the capabilities of simpler 2D engines, betting on visual impact to attract players in a crowded storefront.
The game’s release date places it squarely in the tumultuous landscape of 2024, a year defined not by creative peaks but by pervasive layoffs and studio closures across the industry (as meticulously documented in the Wikipedia entry). From Microsoft’s dismantling of Arkane Austin and Tango Gameworks to Sony’s 900 layoffs and the unionization waves, 2024 was a year of retrenchment. Into this climate of uncertainty and mass redundancies, a tiny, unheralded project like Action Fubuki launched—a testament to the stubborn persistence of indie creation amidst corporate chaos. Its obscurity is not a bug but a feature of this ecosystem; without marketing budgets, publisher clout, or influencer outreach, it was destined to be one of hundreds of “phantom releases” that populate Steam’s “New Releases” tab each day, visible only to the most determined or algorithmically blessed.
Narrative & Thematic Deep Dive: Ninja Trope Meets Bio-Conspiracy
Action Fubuki‘s narrative is delivered almost exclusively through its Steam “Sinopsis.” You are Fubuki GORO, a kunoichi trained from childhood in the deadly “GORO Taijutsu” and employed by the secretive Special Action Agency (SAA). Her mission: infiltrate an unknown facility and eliminate Elon DUSK, CEO of the EXE company, who is conducting illegal human DNA experimentation to create super-soldiers. The government’s prior requests to cease operations have been ignored, necessitating a terminal solution.
The plot is a succinct, cliché-rich tapestry woven from well-worn threads:
* The Government Black Ops Ninja: Fubuki is a classic kunoichi operative, a trope popularized by media like Ninja Scroll and Kill Bill. Her loyalty to a shadowy state agency (SAA) immediately raises questions about her own agency and the morality of her actions.
* The Mad Science CEO: Elon Dusk is a transparent stand-in for real-world techno-optimists turned oligarchs (think Elon Musk, Peter Thiel). His goal—transhumanist enhancement via DNA modification—taps into deep-seated anxieties about genetic engineering and corporate overreach, themes central to cyberpunk and bio-horror.
* The Reluctant (Oblivious?) Heroine: The synopsis provides no hint of Fubuki’s internal conflict. Is she a true believer? A coerced asset? Does she question the SAA’s motives as she butchers her way through the facility? The utter absence of character introspection or dialogue is a significant narrative flaw, rendering her a pure vessel for action.
* The Upgraded Final Boss: The teaser that “he have been ‘upgraded'” implies Dusk will transform into a monstrous final form, fulfilling the “final boss evolution” staple. This sets up a literal and thematic conflict: natural (albeit super-trained) human versus artificially evolved super-being.
Underlying themes are present but utterly unexplored:
* State vs. Corporate Power: The SAA represents state-sanctioned violence, while EXE represents unregulated corporate power. The narrative sets them in conflict but doesn’t interrogate which is more dangerous or if they are two sides of the same coin.
* Body Autonomy & Transhumanism: Dusk’s experiments are a gross violation of bodily autonomy. Fubuki’s use of her “shakra” (chakra) for special techniques adds a spiritual/mystical layer to her combat, contrasting with Dusk’s purely technological augmentation. This could have been a rich vein for philosophical conflict but is reduced to a gameplay stamina mechanic.
* The Weaponized Woman: Fubuki is literally “employed” as a tool of elimination. The story offers no origin beyond “trained since childhood,” framing her as a tragic product of a system that creates perfect weapons. This is a potent, underexplored angle.
In essence, the narrative is a skeletal pitch deck—a list of sellable concepts (ninja, sci-fi, conspiracy) without the connective tissue of character or theme. It functions purely as a justification for the action, a “go here, kill that” directive with potent but wasted thematic potential.
Gameplay Mechanics & Systems: The Mouse as a Katana
The Steam description provides the core gameplay loop: “all about action,” using “mainly your mouse to manipulate Fubuki.” This is a critical and highly unusual design choice for a third-person hack-and-slash. Typically, such games use twin-stick controls (left stick/WASD for movement, right stick/mouse for attacks) or direct character-direction controls. A mouse-only control scheme for character movement and aiming in a 3D space is extremely rare and potentially problematic.
- Core Loop: Expect a fast-paced, arena-style or corridor-based slaughterfest. Enemies are noted for their “large diversity,” suggesting varied archetypes (grunts, armored, ranged, elite) requiring tactical response.
- Combat & “Goro Taijutsu”: The melee system is presumably mapped to mouse clicks/buttons, with movement also tied to the mouse pointer’s position relative to the character. This creates a high skill ceiling but a potentially steep learning curve and risk of fatigue (carpal tunnel concerns are real). The “special techniques using your shakra” imply an ability system governed by a resource (likely the “stamina” mentioned).
- Stamina Management: The warning “beware not to tired yourself too quickly as it could sign your death!” points to a stamina bar governing special moves, dodges, or perhaps even base attacks. This is a classic resource-management mechanic in action games (e.g., Ghost of Tsushima, Elden Ring), forcing players to balance aggressive combos with necessary recovery.
- Character Progression: The source is silent. There is no mention of a leveling system, skill trees, weapon upgrades, or unlockable abilities. Given the “challenge mode” mentioned as unlockable “at any moment” upon reaching “a certain level,” it’s plausible there is some form of progression—likely tied to the challenge mode itself or也许是 a hidden meta-progression system. This lack of detail is a major omission.
- Innovation vs. Flaw: The mouse-centric control is the game’s most defining and risky feature. If implemented well, it could offer unprecedented precision and speed for melee combat, feeling like directly wielding a katana. If poorly implemented, it would lead to disorienting movement, difficulty locking onto targets in 3D, and physical discomfort. The “challenge mode” suggests an intentional focus on mastery and replayability, a positive sign for a core gameplay loop.
- UI & Systems: No information exists on the user interface, health/stamina display, enemy information, or map design. These are critical for judging the game’s clarity and user experience.
Overall, the gameplay suggests a hardcore, old-school ethos—fast, demanding, and focused on pure combat mastery—wrapped in an almost experimental control scheme.
World-Building, Art & Sound: The Unseen Facade
With zero screenshots, trailers, or audio samples provided in the source material, analysis here is purely inferential based on genre conventions and the provided tags.
- Setting & Atmosphere: The setting is “Sci-fi / futuristic” within a “facility.” This implies a blend of sterile laboratory corridors, industrial complexes, and perhaps bio-horror organic growths. The contrast between Fubuki’s traditional ninja aesthetic and the high-tech environment creates an immediate visual tension. The atmosphere likely aims for a mix of cyberpunk grit (inspired by Deus Ex or Metal Gear Rising) and action-horror urgency (like Ninja Gaiden).
- Visual Direction (Anime / Manga Art): The “Anime / Manga” art tag suggests a stylized character design for Fubuki—large expressive eyes, vibrant hair colors, and a form-fitting combat outfit. This aesthetic clashes productively with the sci-fi setting, creating a “cyber-ninja” look. The environmental art is the big unknown. Using Unreal Engine 4, the game could range from surprisingly detailed and atmospheric to a generic, low-poly “Tech Demo” aesthetic. The lack of any visual evidence leans toward the latter, as a striking visual style would likely have been screenshotted and shared.
- Sound Design: Complete silence from the sources. One can only assume a stock or minimal soundtrack—likely pounding electronic or rock tracks to drive the pace. Sound effects for katana swipes, enemy roars, and sci-fi weaponry would be essential for feedback. The absence of any notes on a composer or sound design credits suggests it was not a priority or selling point.
The world, therefore, exists only in the imagination, defined by its genre tags and the player’s expectation of a certain kind of B-tier action game aesthetic.
Reception & Legacy: The Sound of One Hand Clapping
Action Fubuki‘s reception is the literary equivalent of a真空 (vacuum). At launch and to this day (September 2025, per the wiki data), it has:
* Zero Critic Reviews on MobyGames.
* Zero Player Reviews on MobyGames.
* A MobyScore of n/a.
* Only 1 Collector on the entire MobyGames platform.
* No significant mentions in “best of 2024” lists, awards, or industry retrospectives.
Its commercial performance is a mystery. The Steam store page lists a price of $7.99 (initially $1.99 per the first snippet, suggesting a price increase or error). With one known collector, sales must be infinitesimal.
Its legacy is therefore purely contextual:
1. A Data Point in the 2024 Tsunami: 2024 saw a record number of game releases (as the Wikipedia list demonstrates). Action Fubuki is a perfect example of the “long tail” of obscurity—a game that exists in the database but left no cultural footprint. It represents the vast majority of releases that disappear without a trace.
2. The Indie Survival Narrative: Its existence speaks to the sheer volume of projects small teams can complete and release on platforms like Steam, even with zero marketing. It is a monument to the “hope over experience” mindset of indie development.
3. A Cautionary Tale: Its complete lack of visibility highlights the brutal reality of discoverability. Without a distinctive hook beyond its control scheme (which is not even visible in screenshots), it was算法 fodder. It contrasts sharply with other 2024 indie darlings like Balatro (which won multiple GOTY awards) or Animal Well, which cultivated mystery and community.
4. Potential Cult Future? The most optimistic scenario is that it will be rediscovered years later through a “deep dive” YouTube video or a forum thread praising its janky but heartfelt combat. Its obscurity gives it a blank slate for such revisionist appreciation, but there is currently no evidence of a niche community.
Conclusion: A Flicker, Not a Flame
Action Fubuki is not a lost classic. It is not a flawed masterpiece. It is, by all available evidence, a footnote—a functional piece of software that achieved its primary goal of being released. Its thesis, stated in the introduction, is that its value lies not in quality but in its representation of a specific, quietly desperate quadrant of the gaming ecosystem: the solo or micro-team dev operating in the shadow of mega-corporations and industry collapse, aiming a niche, mechanically unusual game at a Storefront algorithm that will almost certainly ignore it.
The game’s greatest weakness is its complete opacity. Without a single screenshot, video, or review, it cannot be judged on its aesthetics or feel. The Steam description hints at a potentially engaging, stamina-based hack-and-slash with an intriguing (if derivative) premise and a bold control scheme. However, the absence of any external validation or observable gameplay means this potential remains purely hypothetical.
Definitive Verdict: Action Fubuki is a historical curiosity. It will be remembered, if at all, by database archivists and completionists as a testament to the sheer volume of 2024’s output. It offers no must-play mechanics, no narrative innovation, and no artistic statement discernible from the outside. Its place in video game history is as a datapoint in the story of digital oversaturation—a game that asked for a moment of your time and was, statistically, almost certainly denied it. It is the sound of one hand clapping in an empty auditorium, a reminder that for every Astro Bot or Balatro, there are thousands of Action Fubukis, quietly blinking into existence and just as quietly fading away.