Samantha shows up in this rotten city like she walked out of some half-forgotten cyberpunk fanfic and then someone spilled porn all over the manuscript. She is “the fixer”, sure, but half the time it feels like the city is fixing her instead, grinding her down with every job, every favor, every late-night “meeting” with someone who has too much power and not enough morals. The game throws you into Blaston, this polluted, hungry place where everyone wants something from her body first and her brains second. One moment you are discussing sabotage in a factory office, pretending you care about output numbers, and five minutes later the foreman has her bent over the desk, still trying to finish the dialogue options while his absurdly huge cock is already pushing in. It feels wrong and hot at the same time, especially when you realize her choices earlier made this exact humiliation possible. My inner literature nerd kept thinking about noir detectives who always drink too much and get punched in the alley, except here the hangover is replaced by cum dripping down her thigh on the train home while people stare.

What I like is how the game constantly forces you to juggle “professional” life and just pure degeneracy. You wake up, check your phone like in real life, see three messages: boss wants you to talk to a gang leader, some rich wife wants “private mediation” with her cheating husband, and a shady lab sends a polite invite to “participate in an experimental treatment” to improve her physical abilities. Saying yes to that third one can turn Samantha into all kinds of twisted versions of herself. I had a run where she ended up with a smooth thick futa shaft between her legs, and it completely changed how scenes played out. Suddenly she is the one pulling out her cock in a dark alley, forcing a cocky street punk to his knees and using his mouth until he gags, then deciding if she rewards him with a sticky creampie inside or just all over his face. Another time I went the opposite direction and let the city break her. She got dragged into this spiral with a group of monster girls and rough, smug black gangsters who pass her around in a derelict warehouse like she is public property. There is this one scene where she is standing naked on a loading dock in the rain, collar on her neck, one guy fucking her ass while another uses her mouth and a third is rubbing her swollen belly because, yeah, she is already pregnant from an earlier “negotiation” that went very off script. She tries to keep talking in-character about “peace between factions” while they just laugh and slap her tits until she shuts up and moans.

The corruption creeps in little by little. At the start she still gets shy when someone grabs her ass on the subway, pulls her skirt down, looks annoyed. Later she is riding that same train with no panties, sitting across from some nervous virgin office boy, spreading her legs a tiny bit wider each stop, watching him sweat. You can choose for her to drag him into a public restroom and ruin him for normal sex forever, jerking him off and then guiding his cock inside while she whispers that he belongs to her now, or you can ignore him and go meet your cuckold contact instead. That guy is married to this Amazon-tier woman with huge tits and a big black bull on the side, and your “job” is to keep the drama controlled. Which in practice turned into Samantha fucking the wife on the couch, licking her pussy while the bull rails her from behind, and the poor husband just sits in the corner stroking his worthless little dick. The game is full of this kind of tangled mess. You think it is just a life sim with calendars and stats, then suddenly you are on a rooftop at night, drunk on power, making a captured troublemaker kiss your boots before you jerk him off with them and push him over the edge of his old life. Romantic routes exist too, buried under all the filth. I accidentally made Samantha fall in love with a girl she was supposed to blackmail. They end up in a cheap motel, kissing shyly at first, then rubbing against each other until they both cum, no pressure, no money, no gang watching. It was almost sweet, which somehow made all the gangbangs, footjobs under bar tables, public groping in neon-lit clubs, BWC-driven netorare drama and messy creampies feel even dirtier by contrast. The city keeps asking her one question: how much of yourself are you willing to sell to keep fixing everyone else’s problems, and how much are you secretly enjoying that sale.