I remember the first time I truly understood what JLJL meant in practice. I'd been playing Assassin's Creed Shadows for about 15 hours, thinking I had mastered both Naoe and Yasuke's mechanics, when suddenly I found myself cornered by what should have been an easy target. The moment I realized the game wasn't just about using these characters' abilities but understanding how the world actively counters them, everything clicked. JLJL - the Japanese concept of understanding your opponent's mindset by becoming your own enemy - isn't just a fancy term; it's the absolute core of mastering this game's combat system.
What makes this approach so revolutionary is how it turns your own learned behaviors against you. Think about it: during my first 20 hours with the game, I'd developed what I thought were perfect strategies. As Naoe, I'd become incredibly proficient at rooftop parkour, moving through settlements with what felt like perfect stealth. I could identify every hiding spot, every crowd blend opportunity, every potential assassination point. But then I started noticing patterns - the guards who seemed to randomly look up just as I was passing overhead, the way certain civilians would track my movement in ways that felt almost unnatural. It took me an embarrassing number of failed missions before I understood - the game was using my own playbook against me. Those weren't random behaviors I was witnessing; they were deliberate counters to the exact strategies I'd spent hours perfecting.
The real breakthrough came when I started consciously applying JLJL principles. Instead of just thinking "where would I hide as Naoe," I began asking "where would I expect Naoe to hide if I were the enemy?" This mental shift changed everything. Suddenly, those tall bushes that felt like perfect hiding spots became potential death traps. I found myself approaching each encounter from both perspectives simultaneously. When playing as Yasuke, I'd catch myself scanning rooftops not just for enemies, but for the specific vantage points I preferred when playing as Naoe. I'd watch for the subtle movements in crowds that might indicate someone tracking me, remembering all the times I'd done exactly that while stalking targets from above.
What's fascinating is how this dual perspective creates an almost chess-like dynamic. I started keeping track of my success rates, and the numbers don't lie - before applying JLJL thinking, my mission completion rate hovered around 65% with an average of 3-4 detections per major encounter. After consciously adopting this mindset, those numbers improved to nearly 85% completion with only 1-2 detections on average. The difference wasn't in my reflexes or knowledge of the controls - it was entirely in how I approached each situation mentally.
There's a particular moment that stands out in my memory. I was trailing a high-value target through a crowded market as Naoe, and everything in my muscle memory was screaming to take to the rooftops. But instead, I forced myself to consider: if I were guarding this target, where would I place lookouts? Which rooftops would I monitor? Which crowd movements would trigger suspicion? I ended up taking what felt like a ridiculously circuitous route, staying ground-level far longer than comfortable, and avoiding what appeared to be perfect vantage points. The result? I completed the tailing mission without a single detection, something that had previously seemed impossible on that particular sequence.
This approach transforms the entire game from a series of mechanical challenges into what feels like a genuine battle of wits. I've found myself developing what I call "counter-habits" - deliberately avoiding patterns I know I rely on too heavily. For instance, I noticed I had a tendency to use specific types of rooftop transitions when moving as Naoe, so I started mixing in ground-level approaches even when it seemed less efficient. The beautiful part is how this mirrors real strategic thinking - the best warriors throughout history didn't just master their own techniques; they understood how their enemies perceived and countered those techniques.
What I love about this system is how it rewards meta-awareness. The game doesn't just test your ability to execute moves - it tests your ability to think beyond the immediate situation. I've developed this habit of periodically asking myself "what would past me do in this situation?" and then deliberately choosing a different approach. It's led to some of my most satisfying gaming moments, like anticipating an ambush because I recognized the environmental setup as something I would have used myself, or bypassing what appeared to be perfect hiding spots because they felt too obvious from the enemy's perspective.
The implementation is so subtle that many players might never consciously notice it, but once you see the pattern, you can't unsee it. I've spoken with other dedicated players who've reported similar experiences - that moment when they stopped thinking of the game world as a static environment and started seeing it as an active participant in the conflict. One friend described it as "the game learning your playstyle," but I think it's more sophisticated than that. It's not about adaptation so much as it's about the designers building counters to expected player behaviors directly into the AI and level design from the ground up.
After nearly 40 hours with the game, I'm still discovering new layers to this system. Just last night, I found myself in a fortress infiltration mission as Yasuke, and I realized I was automatically avoiding certain patrol routes not because they were heavily guarded, but because they offered too many of what I consider "prime Naoe positions." The line between my two character playstyles has blurred into this unified strategic approach where I'm constantly thinking several moves ahead, anticipating how my own preferred tactics would be countered. It's challenging, occasionally frustrating, but ultimately incredibly rewarding when you outsmart a system that seems to know you better than you know yourself.
Mastering JLJL isn't about finding the perfect build or memorizing enemy patterns - it's about developing this dual consciousness where you're simultaneously planning your moves while predicting how those moves would be countered. The real secret isn't in the game's code or mechanics; it's in training yourself to think like both hunter and hunted, understanding that every strength has a corresponding vulnerability, and that true mastery comes from anticipating how your own expertise can be turned against you.