
No More Heroes 2: Desperate Struggle arrives on Switch like a tired, stylish assassin showing up late to his own comeback party and somehow still looking cooler than everyone else. Originally a 2010 Wii game from Grasshopper Manufacture, this port - handled by Engine Software and republished for modern audiences by XSEED/Marvelous - brings Travis Touchdown's second stab at philosophical violence to a new console without trying too hard to rewrite the script. The game is famously built around revenge, beam katanas, and an aesthetic that looks like somebody designed a punk anime using a stack of vintage comic books and a mischievous thesaurus. If you remember the first game, Desperate Struggle tightens the screws on what worked: punchy boss fights, weirdly affectionate pop-culture lampooning, and an appetite for absurdity. If you don't remember the first game, congratulations: instead of needing a recap you can just watch Travis kill increasingly ludicrous people until the plot politely apologizes for existing. Either way, the Switch version is the most convenient way to reintroduce yourself to a world where ranking up feels like climbing a twisted personality chart and the developers decided mercy is optional but stylishness is not.
Gameplay is where Desperate Struggle mostly earns its reputation and its praise. The sequel strips away the odd detours of the first game's overworld and entry fees, streamlining the experience so you spend less time running errands and more time slicing people dramatically in half. Combat keeps the hack-and-slash core: a satisfying rhythm of light and heavy attacks, wrestling moves, and so-called deathblows that make every boss encounter feel like a small, gory opera. Travis' signature weapon remains the beam katana, but now there are four varieties you can swap between mid-battle. The Peony is heavy and satisfying - if you enjoy the sensation of every attack announcing itself like a drum major - while the Rose Nasty lets you dual-wield two blades and pretend you are both a swordsman and a very sharp jazz musician. Enemies are flamboyant and inventive: rappers, cheerleaders turned mech pilots, poisonous sirens, and at least one cosmonaut with abandonment issues. Boss design leans into spectacle and personality over anything resembling subtlety, and the fights reward reading tells, timing, and the ability to react calmly while being screamed at by a cartoonish villain. Two other characters get playable segments: Shinobu offers platforming and a more traditional side-scrolling feel, because apparently this whole revenge-madness needed a bit of jumping, and Henry brings a different kind of chaos with quick-dash moves mapped to the B button on the original Wii. In the Switch port, those unique movement quirks translate to button inputs instead of motion gestures, which makes the whole thing feel more predictable but still fun. Minigames return in 8-bit style, and they're exactly the kind of retro nonsense you'll play for five minutes and then remember fondly forever. There's also a Deathmatch mode to replay bosses after you finish the main campaign. It's a neat little post-game loop if the idea of sharpening your Travis skills and trying to be an even more efficient murder-machine sounds restful to you. The narrative structure is ten steps of madness interrupted by cutscenes in which Sylvia tells Travis' tale to a mysterious peep-show observer. The plot is a revenge ladder: Bishop is murdered, his head delivered in a paper bag, and Travis must climb the UAA ranks to track down Jasper Batt Jr., the Pizza Bat CEO with a grudge and a parade balloon for a second form. The writing alternates between genuinely funny, occasionally poignant, and deliberately ridiculous; the theme of revenge is sincere enough to keep things grounded, but the execution constantly undercuts itself with leering asides and pop-culture winks. That combination mostly works in the game's favor: the tone is manic but coherent, and it's comfortable being both violent and self-aware about the fact that it's being violent.
Graphically, Desperate Struggle was praised at release for being a more polished showing than its predecessor, and the Switch port largely preserves that cell-shaded, comic-book flare. The presentation favors stylized characters and bold color choices rather than photorealism, which helps the game's absurd content feel intentional rather than sloppy. Some reviewers of the original Wii release called certain assets 'rough' at times - an honest assessment when the game flings enormous mechs and gothic lolitas at your screen - but that roughness is part of the charm. It looks like a living graphic novel where panels occasionally come to life and try to kick you. The cutscenes lean into anime tropes and cheeky staging, and the soundtrack - contributed to by a sizable list of composers, including Akira Yamaoka among others - does a nice job of accenting the action without overpowering it. Motion control implementation on the Wii was noted as a highlight in earlier reviews; on Switch those motion moments are tamed into button responses or optional gyro inputs depending on the port, so you lose some theatrical flair but gain consistency. If you play handheld, the experience is compact and surprisingly crisp; docked, it feels like the same slightly off-kilter party you remember but with fewer technical hiccups.
No More Heroes 2: Desperate Struggle on Switch is the kind of sequel that shows up with better manners and a much sharper sword. It keeps the original's flavor - whimsical, violent, and occasionally touching - while cutting out a fair bit of the padding so you can go straight to the delicious parts: the bosses, the one-liners, and the types of fights in which a parade balloon is an acceptable second form. Critics loved it for good reason: the combat is engaging, the personality is offbeat in a deliberate way, and the structure is tighter than the first game's sometimes scattershot approach. If you dislike games that enjoy themselves a little too much or stories that treat assassin rankings like the most important thing since sliced bread, this might feel like a fever dream. If you like smart, stylish violence wrapped up in deadpan self-awareness, it's a very satisfying package. Sales were modest back in 2010, which is a shame, because the game has aged into a solid cult classic - and this Switch release is the easiest way to let Travis remind you that revenge is messy, fashion is important, and sometimes a blood-soaked catharsis fits neatly in your Switch library. Buy it if you want a game that behaves like it knows it's ridiculous but refuses to apologize for it.