This is close as we get to the silly system in the original game, but it feels much more natural as it comes as a consequence of specific actions and not just running the park, plus there are tools on hand to make disasters a little easier to cope with, too. Sneaking one of your freshly-synthesised dino eggs to a black market contact, for instance, could be great for your bank balance but awful for your reputation should your colleagues find out, and events like this affect the likelihood of sabotage attempts from those who didn't get what they wanted. Some of these are fairly minor - when a site supervisor calls in sick, do you throw money at a temporary replacement, or just expect the rest of the staff to muddle through? - while others may have more serious ramifications.
Challenge mode, meanwhile, has its own new system, where many seemingly innocuous actions can present you with choices that impact how things play out. The Chaos Theory mode, made up of 'what if.?' scenarios that spin off from each of the movies, eases you in before presenting problems that emerge from each of the individual films, which makes sense. Thankfully, the ridiculous internal staff rivalries from the first game (which would lead to absurd situations like the security team shutting down the park's power because they thought you were spending too much time and money with the marketing department) are gone, replaced with similarly treacherous but much more believable disasters tailored for each scenario.ĭuring the short campaign (which is set after Fallen Kingdom and involves rounding up 'wild' dinosaurs for an observational facility rather than breeding them for a tourist trap), such issues are limited to natural phenomena and problems of your own creation, such as letting generators run out of fuel. As in the first game, it's not actually that hard to put together the basics of a prosperous park - even with so much more micromanagement this time around - meaning that more often than not, it'll be some uncontrollable outside factor that throws everything into disarray. Most creatures can still be content when something isn't quite right, although that often feels like playing with fire as they'll naturally be that much quicker to snap if something out of your hands goes awry. You'll fill in the gaps the more you play, eventually stumbling across combos of dinos with similar housing and dietary requirements who will get along just fine in the same space, and they don't need every last feature to be perfect. In fairness, Jurassic World Evolution 2 does a pretty solid job of giving you a lot of the information you need up-front, with a brief overview of each creature's needs and a few cohabitation dos-and-don'ts. if they don't just tear one another to pieces before they even get a chance to complain, that is. It's not too much of an issue long-term for single-dino enclosures as you can quickly expand or tweak as your prehistoric pals make their demands known, but branch out into space-saving cohabitation plans and you might find you have your work cut out juggling the needs of multiple species at once. You'll hear similar growled grievances all over your parks, from pea-brained sauropods who are picky about their favourite kinds of tall trees and herds of skittish little theropods with a very strict definition of what is considered 'open space,' to packs of conservationist raptors who kick up a fuss the second you have to knock down a couple of trees just so the rangers can reach and treat their dying friend. "There's not enough saaaaand," grumbles the T-rex, apparently ungrateful for being brought back to life some 80 million years later and just pining for his own private beach on which to murder things. Comments If Jurassic World Evolution 2 is to be believed, we have a new leading theory as to why the dinosaurs died out - rather than some extinction-level event like a meteor impact or ice age, it seems like they might just have been too damn fussy for their own good.