This one feels like scrolling your phone after a breakup, half naked in bed, then suddenly falling into someone else’s messy life and going, “oh shit, that’s me.” You’re this college guy who used to just rot in his room, drowning in cheap snacks and porn tabs, pretending that ghosting your ex and muting half your contacts counts as “healing.” Then basketball drags you back into the light. Not as some heroic sports anime star, more like the dude wheezing on the court, staring at a girl’s bouncing tits in a sports bra and losing the ball because your dick thinks faster than your brain. The game leans into that awkward, horny, slightly cringe vibe. You’re not a smooth sex god at the start. You’re a rebound. For your own life, and sometimes literally for some of these girls who also use you to forget their shit.

The way it mixes horny and emotional is weirdly hot. One moment you’re in a quiet dorm room, just you and this girl with a huge ass squeezed into tight leggings, music low in the background, her hair messy in that “I didn’t plan to get fucked tonight” way. She laughs at something stupid you say, leans in, her tits softly pressing into your arm, and the whole world shrinks to the sound of her breath in your ear. Then the next scene you’re on the court, sneakers squeaking, crowd noise like a fuzzy roar, and you’re staring at the cheerleader with big boobs bouncing in slow motion while you miss a free throw you absolutely should have nailed. The writing loves to drag you back and forth like that. Loving the chaos and then pretending you’re better than it. The harem stuff sneaks up on you too. You start with just trying to talk to one girl without sounding like a Reddit post, and before you know it you’ve got a horny goth chick teasing you, a sweet sporty girl who moans your name when you pin her to the shower tiles, and some bratty college princess who pretends she hates you even while she’s grinding on your lap in a dark party corner. Choices matter, but not in that stiff “good route / bad route” way. More like: do you jerk off alone and text someone after, or do you swallow your fear, go to that date you almost cancel, and end up with her hand sliding under the table, stroking your hard cock while you try not to knock over your drink.

What really sticks is how slow some scenes let things build. There’s this moment where you’re just sitting on a bed with a girl, legs touching. She talks about some stupid fight with her ex. Nothing epic. The lights are low, some indie song plays on her laptop, just a soft background, and you’re watching the way her big breasts move under her loose shirt as she breathes. You feel like a piece of shit for checking her cleavage while she opens up, but the game knows you’re doing it and kind of laughs with you. When she finally climbs into your lap, straddling you, kissing you with this mix of need and hesitation, it feels earned. Like you really crawled out of your slump for this. Then other times it just goes full hentai brain, like “hey, you won the game, here’s a girl with ridiculous big tits riding you until the bed squeaks, moaning so loud you’re sure the whole dorm hears.” And both vibes work. It’s romantic one second, absolutely filthy the next. You masturbate, you fail, you get humiliated and turned on by the wrong things, you pick dumb options just to see what happens, maybe you score big, maybe you crash and burn. It never pretends you’re some perfect hero. You’re just a horny college idiot trying to turn one little rebound into a life where you fuck up less and fuck a lot more.

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.

The reunion starts awkward as hell, honestly. You're back with these girls you used to know everything about, but now they're all grown up with curves that definitely weren't there before. Sarah's got this whole MILF thing going on now, massive tits barely contained in her sweater, while Jessica's ass has filled out in ways that make you forget how to form sentences. The cabin feels smaller than you remember, or maybe everyone just got bigger in all the right places.

What gets weird though is how the whole weekend keeps... repeating? Like you'll be getting a handjob from one of them behind the kitchen counter, then suddenly you're back at Friday night again. Except this time you remember what happened, so you can push things further. Maybe instead of just watching Sarah breastfeed her kid through the crack in the door, you actually walk in and see what happens. The lactation scenes hit different when you're not just some creepy voyeur - she actually wants you there, wants you to taste what she's offering. The game doesn't explain the time loop thing much, but honestly who cares when you're building a harem of your childhood friends?

The lesbian content comes out of nowhere but it works. Watching them explore each other while you're getting a titjob from someone else creates this whole group dynamic that feels natural despite being completely insane. Sometimes you're groping multiple girls at once, sometimes you're just observing them figure out their own desires. The reunion becomes less about catching up and more about catching feelings, or at least catching orgasms. Each loop lets you shape different relationships - maybe this time you focus on the shy one who gives incredible blowjobs, or maybe you corrupt the innocent one until she's begging for more. The CG scenes are unpolished but they capture that raw, desperate energy of people making up for lost time.

You start as this guy who was living the dream on the court, and then your body just says “fuck you” and everything crashes. No more crowds, no more glory, just painkillers, physio, and a silence that feels way too loud. I liked how the game makes you sit with that for a bit. You’re not some magic gigachad from second one. You limp, you doubt yourself, you stare at your own reflection like “what now, idiot?”. And then the old college calls, throws you a lifeline in the shape of a girls’ basketball team that needs a coach, and suddenly that empty space in your life gets filled with sweat, tight uniforms, and way too many questionable thoughts during practice.

The mood shifts fast once you meet the team. They’re all in these fitted sport uniforms that hug every line, stretching over wet skin in the locker room, shorts riding up when they run drills. The game takes its time with the locker room scenes, the way water slides down their thighs in the showers, the way a simple stretch turns into your eyes getting stuck on bouncing tits and exposed underwear. It starts kind of innocent, like “you’re their mentor, be professional”, and then there’s this one late practice where you’re doing one-on-one training, her breathing all heavy, sweat shining on her abs, and she says she wants a “special reward” if she hits enough free throws. Suddenly she’s on her knees in the empty gym, lights low, giving you messy deep oral right there on the polished floor, her ponytail brushing your thigh while her uniform top is pushed up, nipples hard. The animation on her lips sliding down your shaft is surprisingly detailed, the little gag, the string of spit when she pulls away to catch her breath. You’re supposed to be correcting her form, and instead she’s stroking you with one hand, still gripping the ball with the other like it’s some dirty joke only you two understand. When you finally push her down on the bench and fuck her raw, legs spread, sneakers still on, the creampie shot is thick and slow, dripping out while she’s trying not to moan too loud in case someone walks in.

And then the story decides that’s not enough chaos and drops your ex back into the city. The one you knocked up during that “break” with your wife that was definitely not a real break. She shows up like a bomb. She’s softer than the sporty girls, more curves, more emotional landmine. There’s this scene where you meet her in some bland cafe, and under the table she starts rubbing your thigh like nothing happened, like she didn’t drag a whole kid-shaped problem into your life. Later on, at her place, it’s a totally different vibe from the gym sex. Lights low, slow romance mixed with guilt, handjob on the couch while the TV plays some random bullshit, her thumb teasing your tip while she looks you right in the eye and asks if you ever think about “that night”. You end up fucking her proper, bare, sinking into that familiar pussy, and it’s not just lust, it’s this heavy, dangerous comfort. The game leans into the wrongness of it without apologizing. There’s vaginal, there’s sloppy oral, there’s her riding you until your cum leaks out of her and stains the sheets, and for a moment it almost feels wholesome which makes it worse. Then next day you’re back in the gym with a cute rookie stretching in front of you, shorts sliding up her ass, and your phone buzzing with your ex’s messages, and you realize this guy’s life is one long fast break straight into a wall. I kinda loved it. I kinda hated everyone. I clicked “next” anyway.