When looking back at classic adventure games like Nintendo’s The Legend of Zelda, there’s a few things that come to mind. There’s the swashbuckling action, complex puzzles, and far-reaching exploration, and even surprisingly deep lore all wrapped up in a whimsical fairytale aesthetic.
The Cat Quest series, from Singapore-based team the Gentlebros, doesn’t really have any of these qualities. It has a facsimile of them, with a watered-down approach to combat, treasure hunting, and questing that check off all the boxes of what you’d expect from a fantasy action-adventure, but everything is scaled back — streamlined to the point of braindead ease. But that’s kind of their charm.
2017’s Cat Quest and 2019’s Cat Quest II function like the broadest, most simplistic idea of what a role-playing game can be, and mostly appeal to children or newcomers. Great for families playing together on a Saturday afternoon, they’re also surprisingly effective distractions for adults looking to completely tune out and mindlessly go through the motions of gaming for a checklist dopamine fix.
But the newest game in the series, Cat Quest III (out Aug 8), does things a little differently by taking the franchise’s five-year break to finally evolve. At least, a little bit.
Whereas its predecessors were basically baby’s first Zelda devoid of any meaningful challenge or demanding much thought for anyone over the age of 10 to complete, Cat Quest III infuses some much-needed depth to its systems.
In previous iterations of Cat Quest, combat required little more than button mashing. Though the games had dozens of swords and spells at players’ disposal, pretty much any weapon would do the job. Here, aimless hack ‘n slashing will still go far, but there’s more nuance to everything. Choosing between different melee weapons like swords and shields, paired with long range pistols and wands, has an impact in how the action plays out.

A greater variety of enemies and more strategically minded boss battles will require mentally checking in at times. Combined with a reworked progression system that prevents players from easily over-leveling, the game doles out challenges at a steadier pace, and leaves room for a more satisfying endgame experience filled with hearty high-level foes to hunt down for rewards.
Puzzles, too, have been overhauled to necessitate basic deduction. In the first two games, quests were both too hollow and plentiful with upwards of 100 missions to tackle, usually requiring players to literally follow an arrow to the exact spot or object they need to find to complete their task. With less handholding, Cat Quest III aligns more closely with the tenets of a true Zelda-like experience, with quests providing more ambiguous clues or directions that need to be deciphered to figure out where to go next. By the time I finished the roughly five-hour story and side quests, there were still tons of puzzles I hadn’t solved and secrets to be found.

From top to bottom, there’s a huge leap in quality in just about every aspect of Cat Quest III over its predecessors. With a less-is-more mindset, the sheer number of things to do has been scaled back extensively — fewer items to collect or levels to obtain for each spell, and less than half the number of quests and locations as before, but everything feels more meaningfully designed. With greater effort required to suss out the where and how of progression, it’s a game with a similar runtime as earlier entries, despite having substantially less dead weight.
While previous games saw a full continent or continents to explore by foot, with bodies of water to traverse in between, the setting of Cat Quest III switches from a medieval fantasy to a pirate adventure, breaking its world into snack-sized mini-locales across the Purribbean archipelago that can be found traveling by ship. And whereas the original maps appeared sprawling in size, they lacked substance, littered with dozens of dungeons and towns that all felt mundane, copy and pasted to fill space.

By changing the setting to a series of islands, the regional biomes are less diverse than, say, the desert zone or snowy one, but contain individualized puzzles and dungeons unique to each. The decision to hinge exploration on sailing gives the game a shot in the arm reminiscent of 2002’s Zelda experiment, The Wind Waker, which also turned to an seafaring pirate vibe to reinvent the franchise.
Dungeons have also been revamped to be smaller in scope, and in some cases move away from the game’s top-down, isometric view to a 2D design ripped straight from Link’s Awakening’s playbook. It’s a fresh look for the series that lets the cutesy and vibrant art direction shine as the game zooms in more closely than on the main overworld.

Even with a fraction of the same real estate and only a single town to drop into, gameplay in Cat Quest III feels more consequential, with missions that require deeper engagement to complete that makes the game feel denser, despite having fewer menial tasks in the grand scheme.
The story is still gibberish, with a thinly written plot that centers on a heroic kitty of destiny chasing MacGuffins to ultimately square off against “God.” It’s an old RPG trope that the series uses as its framework for each installment, but it works here thanks to the game’s more facetious tone. Like the previous games, Cat Quest III exists in its own timeline alongside the other tales, all bound together by ominously faceless gods — the creators (humans) — whose secretive workings will lead to a multidimensional convergence known as the “Apawcalypse” in the eventual Cat Quest IV. It’s all cheeky nonsense, woven together through light pop culture parody and feline-based puns peppered throughout the dialogue.

All in all, Cat Quest III is dumb, but that’s not to its detriment. It’s an empty calorie gaming experience with a cozy veneer whose cartoonishness will appeal to kids, with a quirkier underpinnings like fourth wall breaks and a self awareness that will amuse adults. Like Cat Quest I & II, it provides the satisfaction of doing “video game things” without requiring much cognitive investment — it’s a game you can beat in a single day while listening to an audio book or streaming TV in the background.
But, with genuine effort put behind the puzzles and action, surprisingly difficult challenges in its endgame, and a New Game+ mode that carries over progression into an even harder version of the game, Cat Quest III may actually force you to lean forward in your chair from time to time when shit gets real. By executing the basics of action adventure gameplay it only emulated previously, the series has finally shown some teeth. This kitty’s all grown up.
Cat Quest III comes out Aug. 8 on PlayStation 4 & 5, Xbox Series X|S and Xbox One, Nintendo Switch, and Windows PC.











Christine Wonsley with her husband, Elmore (second from left), attorney Ben Crump (left), and Rev. Al Sharpton (right), during a memorial service for her son Nolan Xavier Wells.Gerald Herbert/AP


Donald Trump and FIFA President Gianni Infantino stand as Spain celebrates its World Cup victory, on July 19, 2026.
America Got the World Cup It Deserves — Good and Bad
For the past six weeks or so I’ve been having a recurring fight with my friends. The dispute is over whether or not it’s ethical to support the U.S. national team in the World Cup.
To the vast majority of people reading this article, this is an absurd question: of course you can and should support the United States Men’s National Team, you weirdo. And look, I’m with you. But despite the fact that my friends are pompous dorks who are no fun to watch the game with, the question they raise is valid: Are our national teams avatars of the administration in power, or of the people and promise of that country?
If you believe the former, then yeah, it’s pretty fucking weird to support the USMNT. In doing so, by that thinking, you’d be engaging in a sort of athletic nationalism on behalf of a country run by Donald Trump, the most corrupt president in history, who forced the Iranian national team to flee across the border immediately after the final whistle of each of their games, whose federal police have shot numerous civilians dead in the street during a brutal immigration crackdown, who has started a war and supported a genocide while covering up his close personal friendship with the most notorious pedophile in modern history.
I mean just look at him. On Sunday he waddled down onto the field to present Spain with their trophy, lingering on stage with the victorious team as they tried to celebrate. The presence of Mexican President Claudia Steinbaum and Canadian Prime Minister Mark Carney did little to dilute the image of Trump standing next to his crony Gianni Infantino, grinning at all the trappings of their power, hands caressing a trophy they’d done nothing to earn, lingering well past his cue to leave Spain to their glory. This World Cup, literally, had Donald Trump’s fingerprints all over it.
And yet, this was one of the most thrilling, beautiful World Cups in recent memory. That’s America, baby — contradictions abound.
Over the past five weeks of the greatest athletic competition on Earth, we’ve seen games that will literally never leave my memory. The final, which I attended yesterday in New Jersey, was remarkably forgettable — a 0-0 draw until the 106th minute, with Spain dominating every second of play and yet unable to score, undone time and time again by their insistence on tricksy passing and the personal heroics of Argentina’s goalkeeper Emi Martinez. The rest of the tournament, however, delivered. Cabo Verde, refusing to lose until the very last moments of the first knockout round, battling back again and again against both teams that would eventually play in the final. The sheer dominance of France’s Kylian Mbappe in front of goal, scoring at will, rivaled only by the aging GOAT Leo Messi and the Norwegian warlord Erling Haaland. England’s heroic stand at the Estadio Azteca in Mexico City, 45 minutes in the rain, a man down, holding out for the win and singing “Wonderwall” with what felt like half the stadium when it ended. Off the pitch, too: the Algerian national team being welcomed with open arms by Lawrence, Kansas; Scottish braves drinking Boston dry and partying wildly with Haitian fans that overcame so much just to be at the tournament. In Mexico, of course, the World Cup was everything, and its fans threw joyous South Koreans pumped full of tequila into the air, and celebrated in the streets with opposing fans even after their hard-fought defeat to England.
For the United States, what the 2026 World Cup was — what our team was, what our fans were, what our performance as hosts was — is a reflection of two things at once: what our nation is and what it can be.
Our star striker, Folarin Balogun, was born here by accident, a citizen only because of a birthright system that our president is currently trying to erase. We have Ricardo and Giovanni and Freeman and Zendejas. We have another striker whose name is Haji, for goodness sake. I look at that team and I see the country America can be, one in which any soul born in or living within our arbitrary borders can become part of a great national project that seeks to improve the lives of everyone it can. And yet, I can also look at that team and see a reflection of what the country is, because there is an anchor around its neck. When Balogun was — albeit unjustly — suspended for a crucial match, Trump himself stepped in. Cronyism saved the day and got Balogun reinstated, but ruined the fragile harmony the team had enjoyed. On the pitch against Belgium, they came apart. Temperamental star Christian Pulisic tried to go alone and then quit, aging defender Tim Ream’s legs failed him when he needed them most, a young goalkeeper slipped and fell when he had no good options for support.
What more can you say about a team, about our country? The team is an entity that is capable of more but still has so far to go, that is vulnerable to the same forces of avarice and selfishness and fear that plague our national identity writ large.
It’s possible to end the story there, to say good riddance to another failed year and fractured team. But I think that’s a mistake. I think if you believe that you haven’t really been watching. I think that’s also why it pissed me off so much that some of my friends wouldn’t root for the U.S. Yes, we have flaws, like every country involved in the tournament. Yes, our current team management and political government are filled with morons. But if you won’t put on the shirt you’re essentially opting out of our future. We can’t wait around for a better world, a better team, a better president, before we deign to lend our support. Progress only comes from effort, from caring, from believing in something more.
One of my favorite images of the World Cup was a crowd shot of the opening match against Paraguay in Los Angeles: every race, color and creed of American there is, all covered in red white and blue. It’s corny and trite, sure. But that’s what it’s all about. That’s why we’re here. You have to believe. The U.S. won that game 4-2. In four years, we’ll be even better.