Another Crab's Treasure

I went in half-expecting a novelty act and came out somewhere between impressed and slightly humbled by a tiny crab with a rusty fork. Another Crab's Treasure wraps a legitimately demanding soulslike inside a cartoonish undersea world built almost entirely from human trash, and the combination works far better than it has any right to. The setup is pure indie charm: Kril, a misanthropic hermit crab, gets his shell repossessed for unpaid taxes and must chase a treasure map through polluted reefs, kelp forests, and the depths of a place called the Unfathom to buy it back. The writing earns its humor honestly, mixing dry wit into nearly every line of dialogue without tipping into parody. The soul of the mechanical design is the shell system. Because Kril's original shell is gone, he scavenges whatever debris the ocean floor offers: tin cans, bottle caps, ink cartridges, tennis balls, a party hat, even the husk of a dead crab. Each shell acts as both armor and a one-use spell reservoir powered by Umami, the game's mana currency. A soda can shell might let you fire Umami blasts; a yogurt container slowly restores health. There are 69 shells to collect, and swapping them mid-fight to exploit a spell at the right moment gives the combat a scrappy, improvisational feeling that suits a broke little crab perfectly. Complementing this is a four-stat leveling system, equippable Stowaways that function similarly to Hollow Knight's Charms, and a skill tree unlocked with collectible Umami Crystals. Kril also drops the standard soulslike stamina bar entirely, swinging freely at the cost of intentional pauses between strikes, and his platforming moveset goes deeper than the genre norm: swimming, climbing netting, and a fish-hook grapple give the huge environments a late-90s 3D platformer quality layered over the Souls structure. Where the game is honestly uneven: the combat never quite achieves the tight mechanical feel of its inspirations. The parry window is inconsistent, the camera near walls can punish you for the wrong reasons, and lock-on against groups of fast enemies is genuinely frustrating. The fork is Kril's only weapon for the full 20-plus hour runtime, upgradeable but never swappable, which means build variety leans entirely on shell spells and Stowaway combinations rather than weapon archetypes. Boss quality follows a similar curve: standout encounters like Grovekeeper Topoda and the final mirror-match with Firth are genuinely excellent, but a handful of mid-roster bosses recycle the same large-crab-with-a-weapon template too many times. The late-game difficulty balance also softens in ways that make a few climactic fights feel anticlimactic once your Adaptations are fully online. What Aggro Crab genuinely nails, and this deserves credit, is the accessibility suite. You can tune damage dealt and received, adjust parry windows, toggle invincibility, or, in the game's most cheerfully unhinged design decision, equip yourself with a gun that one-shots everything in the game. It never feels condescending. It feels like a developer that wants as many people as possible to reach the story's ending, and the story earns that consideration. Pollution as both setting and metaphor runs through every environment, every item description, every shell you wear, threading environmental storytelling into the world design in ways that land with more weight than the pastel visuals initially suggest. This is a game for soulslike players who are willing to accept some rough edges in exchange for a world that is genuinely unlike anything else in the genre. It is also, quietly, one of the most accessible on-ramps the soulslike genre has produced for players who bounced off Dark Souls or Elden Ring. If you have no patience for a single weapon across the whole campaign or a camera that occasionally conspires against you, those are fair reasons to wait for a sale. Everyone else: Kril deserves your afternoon. Kai, Scout Team