For a busy adult, this is a manageable, finite project rather than a new hobby. A single story playthrough with a healthy slice of side content usually lands around 18–25 hours. At 5–10 hours a week, that’s two to four weeks of comfortable play before you can move on feeling satisfied. Sessions naturally fall into 60–90 minute blocks: clear a Fieldwork chain, finish a tomb, or push a story chapter and watch the follow-up cutscene. The game pauses cleanly at any time, so real-life interruptions are easy to handle. The one structural quirk is its autosave-only system. You’ll want to push to a known checkpoint or back to a safe hub before quitting, or you risk losing 20–30 minutes of progress after a crash or hard shutdown. Coming back after a few days is smooth thanks to strong journaling and maps. There’s no pressure to log in daily, no co-op schedules to maintain, and no seasonal grinds vying for your calendar.

Moment to moment, this game asks you to stay mentally present. You’re watching patrol routes, scanning for climb points, remembering puzzle clues, and choosing when to sneak, bluff in disguise, or throw punches. That mix keeps your mind engaged, but the pace is generous. Long conversations, cinematic scenes, and stretches of simple traversal give you time to coast and enjoy the atmosphere instead of white-knuckling every minute. For a tired adult after work, this lands in a sweet spot: you can’t completely zone out with a podcast, yet you don’t need the laser focus of a competitive shooter. The puzzle complexity is mostly about paying attention to notes and the environment, not doing brutal logic gymnastics under time pressure. When you’re in combat or active infiltration you do need to watch the screen, but cleared areas and tombs are safe enough to pause, look away, or quickly handle real-life distractions.

Learning the basics here is pretty gentle, especially if you’re used to first-person games. Early chapters walk you through punching, blocking, stealth takedowns, and whip traversal at a relaxed pace. Within a few hours you’ll understand how Fieldwork, Mysteries, and Adventure Books plug into each other well enough to make sensible choices. The depth lives in refinement rather than complexity. Over time you’ll figure out which books best fit how you like to play—more stealthy, more punchy, tougher, or more traversal-focused. You’ll learn enemy rhythms, recognize environmental shortcuts, and get better at improvising when plans go sideways. That growth makes later encounters smoother and lets you pull off sequences that feel properly heroic. Crucially, you don’t need to push that mastery very far to finish the story. This isn’t a game where late bosses demand perfect execution or encyclopedic system knowledge. If you enjoy getting better, the game will reward you; if you just want a competent Indy, normal play gets you there.

Emotionally, this plays like an Indiana Jones film more than a horror game or punishing roguelike. You’ll get rushes of adrenaline during collapsing ruins, last-second jumps, and messy bar fights. Stealth slip-ups or boss attacks can spike your heart rate, but the consequences are usually just a short rewind, not losing hours of progress or a beloved build. On default settings the difficulty is firm but fair, and you can nudge combat or puzzle challenge up or down independently. That flexibility matters if you’re coming off a stressful day and don’t want every encounter to feel like an exam. The story does dig into heavier themes—Nazism, obsession, faith, aging—but it wraps them in pulp energy and banter rather than unrelenting bleakness. Overall, expect moderate tension with some thrilling peaks, not a constant emotional grind. It’s exciting enough to feel like an event, yet forgiving enough that you won’t dread picking it back up tomorrow.