Boruto in this game feels less like a hero and more like that horny disaster main guy from a messy romance anime who suddenly got handed a cheat power that strips everyone’s brakes off. Not mind control, not some magic “you love me now”, more like turning up the volume on what they already want and then watching them try to pretend nothing is happening. One late meeting with this strange hooded freak in the street and boom, the whole village turns into a pressure cooker of lust, shame and “I definitely shouldn’t be doing this but I’m already touching you so fuck it”. The game leans hard into that feeling. You walk around like in a small RPG sandbox, poking at people’s boundaries, watching them crack a little, then a lot. Hinata, Sakura, Sarada, even the “proper” types, they all feel like they have this hidden script under the skin, and your new power finds it. One moment Hinata is doing the worried mom thing, nagging you about training, next moment she’s blushing so hard you know she’s picturing your cock buried in her and hating herself for it. The game lets you push. Or not. Sometimes the nicest scenes come from being patient. Sometimes you just bend her over the table and pound her full of cum until she’s dripping down her thighs, whispering “I’m a bad mother” while still begging for more.

What surprised me is how much actual “story feel” there is between the porn beats. It’s not just walking from sex scene to sex scene. There’s this weird tension like a romance anime that lost its PG rating way too early and never looked back. You have those long talks with Sarada where she tries to act like a serious future leader, except you notice how often her eyes flick to your crotch after a certain event. Then you get that first scene where you corrupt that seriousness, bit by bit, maybe starting with “innocent” groping during training, ending in you filling her ass while she bites her glove to not scream your name. The turn based combat is almost funny in contrast, like someone glued a small classic RPG onto a corruption doujin. It works though. Beating some random threat in an alley and then using the stress of the situation to corner a flustered girl into giving you a sloppy, rushed blowjob feels way more dirty than if it just appeared in a menu. There are choices, too, and not all of them are cozy. You can humiliate, you can be gentle, you can act like a dom asshole with a soft spot. One route had me spanking Sakura so hard her ass turned bright red and she still tried to scold me like a teacher, right up until I slid inside her and she completely lost the act. Another run I tried to play more submissive, letting one of the girls take charge and peg me with that unexpected futa situation, and honestly it hit like that one weird hentai manga you secretly keep saved in a separate folder on your phone. Incest tension with Hinata is handled like a slow-burn car crash, every choice making it worse and hotter at the same time. On top of that, the AI style CG gives everything this slightly unreal, dreamy quality that fits the whole “desire is leaking into reality and nobody is safe” vibe. Some scenes are rough, some are loving, some are just trashy and fun, and the game kind of shrugs and tells you: this is on you. You wanted this.

I didn’t expect a game about the Demon Slayer Corps to make me blush harder than losing a match in front of chat, but here we are. The logic puzzles look innocent, clean even, with that cozy click of tiles sliding into place - until you start unlocking “rewards.” I don’t even think rewards is the right word. When Tanjirou’s voice line kicked in after merging a perfect set, it sounded like a mix between a moan and a sigh, just a bit too long on the inhale. Maybe it was a glitch, or maybe those devs knew exactly what they were doing. And the way Shinobu’s eyes shift after the fifth stage, a fraction too slow, gives the strange impression she’s watching *you*, not the other way around. I kept thinking about the sound design, the wet pop when you connect two higher-tier buildings - it’s subtle, but yeah, definitely intentional.

What’s funny is that it’s all framed as upgrading headquarters, yet it ends up feeling like you’re teasing characters rather than managing structures. I made a perfect combo once and everything pulsed pink, even the damn cursor. Kanao shows up then, quiet but dripping with unspoken... something. Her blush animation could melt steel, but sometimes it freezes the frame entirely and forces you to restart. Infuriating, but in a weirdly rewarding way. You start thinking, “Okay, maybe one more merge, maybe the next one shows something wilder,” and then hours later your coffee’s cold and you’re still chasing one more perfect set. It scratches that part of the brain that likes order and filth at the same time.

I can't decide if the best part is the weird ASMR-engineered effect of the demon-slaying soundtrack or the slow reveal of how much of this game is secretly a fetish for control. It’s horny but methodical, like foreplay dictated by spreadsheets. The click, the glow, the sudden gasp - and then silence. Hate how much I loved that silence.

I swear this game messed with my head more than any so-called “psychological” visual novel ever did. You wake up rich, spoiled, surrounded by girls who look like they stepped straight out of some fever-dream crossover - like, imagine Asuka Langley arguing with Hinata about who gets to sit closer to you at breakfast, and then Merlin just casually walks in wearing nothing but a towel that doesn’t even try to do its job. It’s ridiculous, yet there’s something weirdly believable about it. Maybe because the dream logic fits too well: everything looks perfect, but your brain keeps whispering that something’s off. I liked that uneasy feeling until it got buried under all the moaning and skin. Then again, maybe that’s the point - when reality breaks, people reach for pleasure first. Or I’m overthinking pixels again.

There’s this scene - I won’t spoil too much - but you’re supposed to choose between helping Yor Forger study or letting Jinx drag you to her room. I picked Yor, thinking it’d be wholesome. Yeah, right. Five clicks later she’s on the desk, glasses half-off, saying things no spy should ever say. The animation isn’t flawless; sometimes her eyes lag behind her face, which made me laugh when I shouldn’t have. But that glitchy charm stuck with me longer than any of the polished stuff. And the sound design? Way too real. My cheap headphones couldn’t handle Tsunade’s voice purring through them. Still, I kept replaying the same moment like an idiot chasing déjà vu.

Funny thing: I started playing for the sexy chaos, but ended up stuck thinking about that blank-memory setup. Like maybe the main guy deserves the confusion. Maybe we all do. It’s a horny game pretending to be philosophical - or a philosophical game pretending to be horny. Doesn’t matter. When Nami whispers something about “remembering the wrong things,” I actually paused. Then I unpaused, because, well… she was already moving.

Can’t lie, I clicked expecting another copy-paste anime mashup with the usual stiff models and dead-eyed moans, but this one hits different. There’s a sadness under all that skin, like someone coded their fantasies too carefully, you know? I found myself staring at Raven’s face - Batman’s Raven - and thinking, “she shouldn’t be looking at me like that,” while still dragging her into position anyway. Unreal how fast guilt turns into hunger when the animation breathes just right. And maybe it’s because of the Illusion engine doing its sneaky physics thing, or maybe because the transitions are almost clumsy, like real people fumbling with clothes and patience. It’s messy, which makes it hot.

The scenes jump from universes without pretending to make sense. One second I’m in some broken-down Capsule Corp lab, Bulma smirking like she *planned* to get caught; next, Yoruichi’s toes press against my chest, laughing, telling me to look up. I did. Of course I did. The voyeur mode feels wrong in the best possible way - it doesn’t even give you fake morality options, just lets you watch. But then again, maybe that’s lazy design. Or genius. Hard to tell when your brain’s half-melted. The weird part? The sound mix changes depending on position, so D.Va sounds distant if she turns away. I swear no one ever gets audio that intimate, not even those overpriced VR patches on Steam.

Anyway, I could say it’s perfect, but I won’t. Some things twitch too mechanically - the faces sometimes freeze mid-expression, like they remember they’re code. Yet that’s also the charm. You see the seams, and you keep touching them. Like rubbing a wound for pleasure. Half the cast shouldn’t exist in the same space - Orihime beside Tifa beside Samus - but here they crowd my screen like they’ve been waiting forever. Maybe that’s why it works: it’s absurd, obscene, familiar, and somehow lonelier than expected. I closed the browser and immediately reopened it. Couldn’t help it.