"Scam Artist," or How My Moldy Apartment Turned Into an Illegal Casino!
It all starts the way great dramas do—with a landlord. In this case, one who rents you a small, moldy apartment and, instead of fixing the water damage, convinces you to set up a scam operation in the living room. And on top of that, he makes you the scapegoat. The plot promises revenge against him as you climb the scam food chain. Finally, a video game that understands the rental market.
Your “customers” (calling them victims sounds harsh) walk in through one side of the apartment, make their way through your attractions from left to right, and walk out with empty pockets. And the best part is that they leave so happy. Your arsenal includes:
Money falls to the ground, and you pick it up. You buy more machines, and the cycle continues. It’s as addictive as watching numbers get bigger.
Here’s the clever part. Every decoration has an effect that boosts your winnings, so decorating is pure strategy. A corner full of eviction notices? Bonus. A luxury chandelier? More bonus. This is the first time a game has made me consider feng shui as a tool for fraud. Fitting everything into the limited space you have is the most puzzle-like and satisfying part.
Every day someone knocks on your door: a nervous delivery person, a corrupt cop, and other equally colorful characters. The decisions you make with them permanently change your game. In other words: the game has more moral consequences than most reality shows.
When you stand out enough, you’re recruited into a secret society of very peculiar con artists. There, you learn how to counterfeit bills to make money even when the game is closed (the most realistic thing I’ve ever seen), how to make scam calls to elderly people, and how to launch your own memecoin to pull off an instant rug pull. It’s a satire that’s funny and, at the same time, a little scary because it’s so relatable.
Greenpixels developed this fun management game.