How to Use Tong Its Effectively and Solve Common Issues

The first time I successfully chained together a series of perfect drifts in Japanese Drift Master, I felt a rush I hadn't experienced since my early days with racing sims. It wasn't just about speed; it was about the beautiful, controlled chaos of a car sliding at the absolute limit of adhesion. Drifting, as the game so masterfully demonstrates, is the soul of this experience. It's easily the strongest aspect of the game, transforming a simple race into a balletic performance of smoke, angle, and throttle control. For anyone looking to move from simply throwing a car sideways to truly mastering the art of the drift, understanding the core mechanics is just the beginning. The real magic happens when you learn to use your tools effectively and troubleshoot the common issues that can turn a graceful slide into a messy spin-out.

Let's talk about initiation. Whipping a rear-wheel-drive, torque-filled machine into a controlled slide is, thankfully, simple. You can use a flick of the steering wheel, a sharp lift-off of the throttle, or my personal favorite, a quick tug of the handbrake. But getting the car sideways is only 20% of the battle. The remaining 80% is all about maintenance. This is where most beginners falter. You'll find yourself either spinning out from over-correction or straightening up because you didn't commit enough. The game provides an ingenious tool to help you here: the balance meter. It’s a direct, and frankly brilliant, homage to the balance meter you'd find during a grind in Tony Hawk's Pro Skater. This little visual guide is your best friend. It helps you gauge the precise angle of your drift, allowing you to deftly balance it. The key principle is to steer into the direction the back of your car is facing while gently applying the accelerator to power through the slide. It’s a constant, fluid dance of micro-adjustments. I’ve spent probably 40 hours just practicing this single aspect on the game's test track, and I can tell you, the muscle memory you build is invaluable.

Now, maintaining a good angle and adequate speed is what separates the amateurs from the pros. It’s what makes the entire process so deeply engaging. You can't just hold the throttle wide open; you'll overshoot every corner. Conversely, being too timid will kill your momentum and your score. I prefer a technique of modulating the throttle between 60% and 80% to fine-tune my line. The feeling you get when you figure out how to expertly control a drift, holding a perfect 45-degree angle through a long, sweeping corner with the tires screaming in protest, is pure gaming euphoria. The feedback through a good force-feedback steering wheel is absolutely critical here—it’s a non-negotiable in my setup. You can feel the tires losing and regaining grip, and that tactile information is as important as any on-screen meter.

But what about when things go wrong? This is where your advanced tools come into play, and learning to use them proactively is the next level of mastery. The handbrake isn't just for initiating drifts; it's your primary tool for correction. If you feel your drift angle is becoming too shallow, a quick, sharp tap of the handbrake can snap the rear end out further, quickly changing the angle to get you back on line. On the other hand, if you're heading for a spin, sometimes the best solution is to momentarily drop the clutch. This technique, often called a "clutch kick," provides a sudden burst of torque to the rear wheels, shocking them into breaking traction again and helping to sustain or even increase your slide. I can't count the number of times a well-timed clutch kick has saved a drift I thought was doomed, especially on tighter, second-gear corners where maintaining wheel speed is a constant challenge.

A common issue I see, and one I struggled with for my first 10 hours, is over-reliance on the handbrake. It's a dramatic tool, but using it too much murders your speed. I made a conscious effort to use weight transfer and throttle lifts to initiate drifts instead, and my scores improved by a solid 25% almost overnight. Another persistent problem is "transition anxiety"—the fear of linking one drift into the next. The trick is to anticipate the next corner early. As you're exiting one slide, you should already be planning your steering and throttle input for the next flick. It’s a rhythmic, almost musical process. The game punishes hesitation, so you have to be decisive. If you find yourself consistently under-steering out of a drift, you're likely not using enough throttle to keep the rear wheels spinning; if you're spinning out, you're probably steering too aggressively or stabbing the throttle. It’s a delicate balance, but the balance meter is there to guide you. Watch it like a hawk.

Ultimately, effective drifting in Japanese Drift Master is about developing a feel for the car. It's not something you can just read about and instantly master. You have to put in the seat time. You'll fail, you'll spin, you'll hit walls. But the moment it all clicks, and you're weaving through a technical section leaving a continuous plume of smoke behind you, it's one of the most satisfying feelings in modern gaming. The game doesn't just simulate drifting; it captures the sheer joy and tension of it. My advice? Stop worrying about your score for a while. Find a car you love—for me, it's the tuned Nissan Silvia S15—and just drive. Experiment with the limits. Push too far and learn why you spun. Be too cautious and learn why you straightened up. This iterative, hands-on process is the only real way to internalize the physics and become one with the machine. That's the true path to becoming a drift master.