Inertial Drift

I came into Inertial Drift expecting a gimmick dressed up in anime colours, and I walked away genuinely annoyed at myself for not playing it sooner. The core pitch is simple enough: left stick positions the car, right stick is a dedicated Drift Stick that gives you direct, independent authority over the back end. Throttle and brake sit on the triggers as normal. In practice, though, it completely rewires your instincts. You stop thinking about steering and start thinking about weight transfer, slip angle, and how hard you can push the rear before you run out of road. The first twenty minutes feel wrong. The next two hours feel like learning a new language, and after that the fluency hits hard. What keeps it honest is the roster. There are 16 cars total, and Level 91 Entertainment did not cut corners on differentiation. The beginner-friendly hatchbacks flick into a drift with almost no input resistance; the high-end machines require you to manage throttle and brake with real precision just to coax them sideways at all. Each car is effectively its own handling puzzle, and switching to a new one after mastering the last genuinely resets the difficulty. The tracks span neon city grids, winding mountain passes, and coastal sunset strips, each environment bold and cel-shaded in that retro-future style that wears its Initial D influence without apology. The electronic soundtrack slots in well, though a couple of the stage-locked loops do start to grate if you are grinding the same track for the third time in a row. And that is the part I have to be straight about: the structure gets repetitive in a way that will bother some players more than others. The story mode chains multiple event types across the same track before you can advance, meaning time attack, duel, and endurance all run on the same tarmac back to back. The narrative framing is light visual-novel fare with flat characters and no voice acting, and the difficulty calibration between campaign chapters and the Grand Prix mode feels uneven. You are also never up against more than one opponent at a time in the main modes, which strips out the grid chaos that makes arcade racers feel alive. For a game that clearly wants to be a group activity, that stings. On the multiplayer side, there is local split-screen and online racing, and local is genuinely great for a session with someone nearby. Online is where the honest warning lives. The PC community never grew into something sustainable post-launch, and finding a live online match today is a real ask. If your purchase hinges on ranked online play or the kind of lobby scene that keeps you coming back for months, the population reality will disappoint you. Play it for the single-player mastery loop, the time attack leaderboards, and split-screen if you have someone on the couch, and it holds up. As a live competitive platform it simply is not that. Fred, Scout Team