Phoenix is supposed to be solving crimes, but in this thing he’s basically solving who gets to fuck who first. It still looks like an Ace Attorney game at a glance, with the courtroom flow and the stupidly dramatic zooms, but the mood is way filthier. One moment you’re shouting “Objection!” and pressing a witness, next moment you’re peeking at Maya on that creepy WE-TRACK-U gadget and she’s bent over somewhere she really shouldn’t be, tits bouncing while she “accidentally” drops something for the third time. It keeps this weird balance where you actually care about the case, and then you forget the case completely because someone’s getting slowly corrupted in the background and you’re too busy watching. The writing leans heavy into parody, it constantly pokes fun at the original series, but then it turns around and gives you scenes that feel way too hot to be a joke. Bluecorp 2 is doing shady stuff again, sure, but the real crime is how quickly half of the cast ends up naked or morally broken.

Story goes from goofy to kinda fucked up pretty fast, and that’s where the netorare thing shows up. You’re the male protag, but you’re also this helpless viewer sometimes, forced to watch your “ally” get dragged deeper into sleaze while you poke around in menus and evidence. There’s a sick little thrill when you check the tracker, see a new scene unlock, and realize Maya’s doing something she’ll never admit later. Sometimes she’s just teasing, sometimes she’s getting used by side characters you wanted to punch from the first moment they appeared. Big tits are everywhere, by the way, like the artist was physically allergic to small breasts. Every time a new girl shows up the game practically shoves her chest into frame first, then remembers to give her a face. The voyeur angle hits hard: cameras, peeping through doors, catching a corrupt “training session” in a place that was totally innocent in the original games. It’s sleazy on purpose, and the point & click parts encourage you to poke every stupid hotspot, because half of them end up triggering some lewd animation or a dirty line instead of something useful. Trading cards of the girls are just pure fanbrain candy, like a horny gacha without the gacha, and I hate that I cared enough to try and complete the set.

Los Angeles 2042 in this game feels like someone took Blade Runner, poured cheap whiskey on it and then asked “ok but where is the pussy.” Neon everywhere, holo ads with bouncing tits, high-tech toys, and then you walking around as this burned out corporate merc who is way too good at hurting people and way too bad at staying out of other people’s beds. You’re supposed to find this girl who suddenly matters to literally everyone in the city, but of course it never stays just “find and deliver.” One moment you’re sneaking through some high-rise owned by a corp that treats human lives like printer ink, next moment you’re balls deep in a milf who’s been playing power games longer than you’ve been alive. And the game doesn’t even pretend it’s classy about it. There’s face fucking, anal, tits riding your cock, cum all over everything. Animated scenes, not those lazy slideshow things. You actually watch her ass bounce while you rail her against some cold futuristic window with the skyline behind her. Very tasteful. And by tasteful I mean zero taste, just pure filth.

What I liked is how it mixes that heavy sci-fi mood with straight up horny trash. You’ve got corporate wars, merc squads, people getting shot in the head at close range with blood painting the walls. Then, ten minutes later, you’re pinning some virgin hacker girl against a desk, pushing her legs open while she’s still pretending she only needs you for “protection.” She says she’s never done it, your character basically goes “yeah sure” and then you see how tight she grabs you, how her body shakes when you slide in slowly the first time, and you kinda realize she really was a virgin and you just wrecked her. There are moments where the domination vibe is heavy too. Hand on throat, ass up, spanking her till her cheeks are red, then slipping a thumb inside to watch her squirm, then full on anal with her face buried in the pillow. Sometimes it’s romantic, you actually get those quiet scenes after the chaos, naked bodies tangled in a shitty apartment with neon bleeding through the blinds, soft kisses, slow vaginal creampie where she pulls you deeper with her legs wrapped around your waist. Next scene you’re watching two people fuck from the shadows, full voyeur creep mode, zooming in on her big ass bouncing on top of a futa whose cock is way too big to be legal, and you just stand there like “yeah, this is fine.” I still hate how one character constantly takes her clothes off by stripping super slowly like she’s on some cheap cam site, while another girl will just dump her top in half a second and shove your face in her huge tits, but maybe that’s part of the charm, this messy mix of romance, brutality and absolute porn brain, all wrapped in neon and broken dreams.

Rockford is one of those MCs who looks like he has his whole shit together on paper, but you can tell the guy is emotionally scuffed as hell. You play him as this hotshot prosecutor who can ruin a gangster’s month with one closing argument, then go home, stare at his phone, and jerk off in the shower instead of actually calling any of the girls who obviously want his dick. It’s kind of funny at first, then it gets weirdly hot when you see how all that control he uses in court starts leaking into the bedroom. The first time he finally gives in and lets a girl go down on him, that scene feels earned. You were sitting through all the courtroom drama, all the macho “justice system” talk, then suddenly he is pinned to a couch while a woman who knows him way too well is on her knees, drool stringing off his shaft, and he’s trying not to make noise because he “doesn’t lose control.” Sure, man. Until she starts stroking him with both hands, twisting just a bit, and you watch his whole persona crack. That slow build is the whole thing here: he tries to stay professional, then the story keeps pushing him next to women who just do not give a fuck about his emotional walls and keep rubbing against them. And him. Literally.

The four main women are where most people are going to lock in. The homicide detective is the classic “we fucked once, never talked about it, still got the chemistry” situation. She’ll be grilling him about a murder, then there’s this moment where her shirt is unbuttoned a little too low, he glances, she notices, and the tension just snaps. There is this sex scene in her apartment, half empty pizza box on the table, TV muted, where she climbs on top still half dressed, riding him with slow, grinding hips while she keeps talking about the case in this low voice. Then she stops mid-sentence when he thrusts up hard and you see her lose the thread. Stuff like that hits way harder than the usual “oh no we tripped and now we’re naked.” The colleague from the office is more of that “I’ve known you since we were kids, I know exactly how to break you” energy. When she finally gives him a handjob in his office, using the desk like it’s just another tool, there’s this mix of affection and just straight-up filth. She spits in her hand, grins at him, and even while she’s pumping him fast, playing with his balls under the table, she’s still talking shop. And when he explodes all over her fingers and her blouse, she just laughs and licks him off her knuckles like it’s no big deal. The romance part sneaks up on you, especially with the sweet teacher girl. First she looks like the “wholesome route,” but then you get her alone, lights off, her panties already damp because she’s been thinking about his voice from court. The blowjob she gives in the car is ridiculous, head bobbing while rain hits the windshield, her tits pressed against the gear shift. She lets him cum in her mouth, swallows without making a show out of it, then kisses him with that faint taste still there. And yeah, eventually he stops pulling out and starts filling girls up, those creampie shots hit hard, especially when one of them hooks her legs behind his back and says “don’t you dare.” The violence on the case side gets rough sometimes, bodies and blood and ugly motives, but that nasty part of the world makes the sex feel more raw, like everyone is clinging to each other because nothing is safe. It plays smooth on phone too, so you’re just there on the couch, thumb tapping through murder files one second, then watching a big-titted woman ride Rockford until her thighs shake and his cum slowly leaks out of her after he pulls out. Not the most polished thing in the universe, some faces go a bit stiff in odd angles and there is one scene where the lighting just decides to be awkward for no reason, but when the MC is buried between a woman’s legs, licking her slow while she fists his hair and gasps his name, you kind of forget all that. Or you remember and just keep going anyway.

You just want a quiet weekend in your grandpa’s creepy old mountain hut, right? Hot tea, fresh air, maybe some porn on your phone when the signal behaves. Instead the whole damn forest wraps itself in this thick, dirty looking fog that feels like it wants to crawl into your lungs. The trees are half visible, the sky is gone, and every time the wind moves you get this quick glimpse of something moving wrong between the shadows. Not a fun kind of wrong. The kind that makes your balls shrink a bit even while you’re trying to get turned on.

Then she shows up. Bare feet, torn clothes, breathing like she ran for her life, eyes big as hell. She practically crashes into your hut and just clings to you, shaking, and all you can feel is warm skin and hard nipples through thin fabric while she whispers that “they” are out there. Monsters in the fog. Things that only really show when they attack. There’s this weird mix of fear and “holy shit, she’s cute” in your brain, and you kind of hate yourself for getting half hard while she’s talking about people being dragged away screaming. Later that night, when the fog presses against the windows and something sc*** at the door, you end up hiding under the same blanket with her, trying to keep quiet while her tits rub your arm every time she shivers. You know that feeling when your cock is rock solid but you’re also pretty sure something outside wants to eat your face? That.

The whole survival thing is pretty rough. You go out for supplies, watch the fog, check the woods, listen for that wet, distant growl that means “go the fuck back inside.” There’s this moment where you’re searching around the hut and walk into the bathroom, and she’s there, half undressed, washing off the dirt with a bucket, steam rising, hair stuck to her skin. For a second she freezes, then her eyes drop to your crotch, you both pretend you didn’t see, and nothing is said. But it sticks in your head all the time after. The more days you sc*** by, the more the tension builds. Sharing food, sharing the same cramped bed when the monsters are too close, her shifting her hips, her ass brushing you, trying to “sleep” while your cock is pressed between her thighs and she pretends not to notice. When more girls start showing up from the fog, each with their own way of dealing with the fear, the whole hut turns into this weird mix of bunker and horny pressure cooker. You’re trying to keep everyone alive, figure out what the hell that fog is, while at the same time getting dragged into long, breathless nights where someone ends up riding you to shut up their own terror, whimpering your name so loud you’re sure the monsters can hear.