Scarface: The World Is Yours Returns Unexpectedly — and Nobody Knows Who’s Behind It

Nearly two decades after its original release, Scarface: The World Is Yours has abruptly reappeared online, not through an anniversary reissue or official remaster, but through what looks like a mistake. The 2006 open-world crime game, inspired by Brian De Palma’s 1984 film and once hailed as a cult favorite of the PlayStation 2 era, was pushed live on the Epic Games Store by a publisher few have ever heard of — and possibly never meant to.

The publisher, EC Digital, described the release as an accident. In a short note attached to the game’s Steam page, the company wrote that “due to a technical issue during backend configuration, the game was unintentionally pushed live on a different platform earlier than planned.” The statement added that the team was “accelerating efforts” to finalize the Steam version for its intended release.

That clarification did little to settle the confusion. EC Digital has no visible history, no public-facing staff, and, as of now, no functioning website in the UK. In the vacuum left by official communication, questions have multiplied. Scarface: The World Is Yours has been locked in licensing limbo for years, its rights tangled between defunct publishers and expired music contracts. The original developer, Radical Entertainment, was absorbed by Activision in 2012 after its parent company, Vivendi Games, merged with the publisher. Only a handful of developers from the original team reportedly remain.

The sudden reemergence of a title built on so many old agreements immediately raised alarms among fans and preservationists. Even more troubling was the discovery that the re-released version may include community-made modifications — fixes that had kept the game playable on modern hardware. On Bluesky, user Wario64 noted that the Epic Games Store build contains “SilentPatch” and “Fusion Fix,” two fan-created patches developed independently of any publisher oversight.

Silent, the modder behind SilentPatch, confirmed the inclusion on social media:

“This release reportedly ships SilentPatch and Fusion Fix, and none of us were contacted about this in advance (which isn't necessary as per the license, but would be nice).” — Silent

While Silent’s statement stops short of alleging legal wrongdoing, it underscores an increasingly common tension in the preservation of older games. Fan projects often serve as de facto maintenance, keeping long-abandoned titles playable through unofficial patches and community tools. Yet, when publishers — legitimate or otherwise — fold those efforts into paid releases, the ethics blur.

Complicating matters further, Scarface: The World Is Yours occupies a tricky corner of licensing history. The game’s soundtrack features dozens of tracks tied to film rights, artist agreements, and studio contracts dating back to the mid-2000s. Clearing such a web for re-release would normally take months of negotiation. The idea that an unrecognized publisher managed to do so quietly, and then accidentally push the game live, stretches credibility.

The odd timing and lack of transparency have prompted speculation about whether EC Digital even possesses the rights required for distribution. Without confirmation from Epic or Steam, it remains unclear whether this release is sanctioned, a grey-market arrangement, or an outright rights lapse. The publisher’s digital footprint, virtually nonexistent, deepens the uncertainty.

This is not the first time a dormant title has resurfaced in dubious fashion. The PC gaming landscape has seen similar incidents, where long-out-of-print games have reappeared on storefronts under obscure publishers or mislabeled corporate entities. In many cases, rights ownership is fragmented or misattributed after years of mergers and dissolutions. Still, a few examples involve a property as visible and as layered in licensing risk as Scarface.

The original game earned respectable reviews upon release and sold well enough to inspire plans for a sequel, which was ultimately cancelled in 2009. Built in the style of mid-2000s open-world sandboxes, it followed Tony Montana’s fictional survival after the film’s bloody finale, mixing third-person combat with city-building mechanics — a curious hybrid that found a loyal audience. For years, fans have called for a remaster or reissue, though most assumed the rights were too tangled to untie.

That assumption may have been correct. For now, the re-release exists in a liminal state: live on some platforms, inaccessible on others, and shrouded in unanswered questions. Neither Activision nor any surviving Radical Entertainment representatives have addressed the situation. Attempts to contact EC Digital have led nowhere, and its website remains unreachable.

In a media landscape filled with sanctioned remasters, curated legacy collections, and official anniversary editions, this accidental revival stands apart — a product of digital entropy, not design. It’s the kind of event that can only happen in 2025, when nostalgia, lost rights, and opaque digital marketplaces collide to produce something that’s both familiar and faintly absurd.