I didn’t expect to fall in love with Kaiserpunk. I’ve played enough city-builders and grand strategy games to know when a game is trying too hard, or not hard enough. But this oddball indie title, made by a tiny team of developers (including three brothers, which explains the chaotic charm), surprised me. It’s a game that asks you to build a bustling industrial city, manage a global military empire, and somehow not lose your mind when your navy gets stuck in the middle of the ocean. If that sounds like your idea of fun, keep reading. If not, maybe stick to farming sims.
Most city-building games let you create pretty towns for the sake of it. Kaiserpunk says, “No, build factories to make guns, or else.” Your city exists to fuel world domination, and that focus changes everything. You’ll set up supply chains for coal, steel, and bullets, all while balancing the needs of your citizens. It’s satisfying to watch your industrial district hum with activity, pumping out tanks and artillery shells. I spent hours optimizing my factories, only to realize I’d forgotten to build housing. My people revolted. Lesson learned: even warmongers need parks.
The grand strategy layer is where Kaiserpunk truly shines. Conquering territories on the world map lets you steal resources, build defenses, or negotiate shaky alliances. I started a game in Canada, turned it into a lumber-and-munitions powerhouse, and invaded the Midwest just to see if I could. (Spoiler: I could, but holding onto Minnesota required more coffee than I’d like to admit.) The blend of city management and military strategy feels fresh, like Civilization and Cities: Skylines had a baby that really, really loves explosions.
Let’s talk about the bad. Naval movement in Kaiserpunk is slower than a sloth on vacation. Moving ships between sea zones triggers a cooldown timer, forcing you to click through each zone one by one. Trying to invade Australia from New Zealand took so long, I started questioning why I even wanted Australia. (Answer: Sheep. I needed wool.) The game desperately needs a “queue orders” button. Until then, avoid starting on islands unless you enjoy pain.
Micromanagement is another headache. Reinforcing armies means clicking each unit individually to refill its ranks. Imagine handing out bandaids to a thousand paper cuts, it’s that tedious. The economy also has issues. Early on, selling goods on the black market feels rewarding, but by mid-game, money dries up faster than a puddle in the desert. I went bankrupt twice trying to fund my tank divisions, which is how I learned that artillery is cheaper than democracy.
The game’s AI doesn’t just play to win, it plays to humiliate. On the easiest difficulty, rival nations were fielding advanced tanks by 1920 while I was still researching how to make better rifles. In one game, an enemy army rolled into my capital with unstoppable artillery units, ignoring my defenses like they were made of wet cardboard. Turns out, infantry units are about as useful as a screen door on a submarine. Everyone, even the AI spams artillery because it’s the only way to win.
Kaiserpunk: Kaiserpunk isn’t for everyone. It’s a bit janky, overwhelming, and occasionally it can be unfair. But it’s also bold, creative, and packed with ideas bigger games wouldn’t dare try. The small dev team clearly cared about making something unique, even if they bit off more than they could chew. If you can laugh at the chaos, like when your custom flag (mine was a raccoon holding a wrench) flies over a crumbling empire, you’ll find a game worth sticking with. – Alicia
Just don’t expect polish. The UI looks like it was designed in Microsoft Paint, and the tutorial explains everything except how to survive past 1921. But for strategy fans craving a challenge, Kaiserpunk is a rare gem. It’s the kind of game you’ll complain about for hours… while secretly playing until 3 a.m.
