Japan in this game feels like someone took a horny sci fi reddit thread, fed it into ChatGPT on a bad day, then handed it to a very pervy writer with a school uniform fetish and a grudge. You land there as this kinda average 19-year-old dude, supposed to be an exchange student, pretending you care about classes while your brain is just full of your crush Julie’s tits and that tight ass she keeps pretending she doesn’t notice you staring at. Of course she brings her cute friend Alice, who acts like a good girl but gives you those tiny side glances that say “choke me a little, please.” On top of that, there is this whole mystery about Julie’s missing sister and a company that makes hyper realistic sex dolls, but half the time I kept forgetting about the plot because the game keeps throwing you in situations where you are either groping, being teased, or trying not to cum in your pants in some school hallway. The tone jumps around like crazy: one moment you flirt shyly in a classroom, next you are slapping a doll’s ass raw and making her call you master while your friend is in the next room. That mix actually works better than it should. It feels messy and dirty, in a good way.

The whole “Love Dolls” company thing is the part that stuck with me. Those dolls are basically walking sex toys with soft skin, big tits, big asses, and eyes that look a bit too human when you tell them to open their mouth wider and they just obey without question. They are made to be used, to be trained, to be humiliated. You can press them against a wall, pull their hair, force their legs apart, make them kneel on a cold floor and clean your dick with their tongue while you stare down like they’re nothing. There is this one scene where you are still acting like the innocent foreign student on the outside but behind a locked door you are pushing a doll face down on a school desk, fingers digging into her hips, pounding her so hard the animation actually sells the impact. Her tits bounce, her ass jiggles, she moans like a broken toy, and you know very well you are not supposed to be doing this in a place with textbooks and chalkboards. That mix of “I shouldn’t” and “I really, really will” is where the game shines. It goes from gentle teasing and soft kisses with your crush to rough anal with a doll chained to a bed, and the game barely blinks. You get moments of romance, then suddenly you’re strapping a toy to a girl, making her ride it until she’s shaking, and the MC is just watching with this fucked up curiosity like “what else can I do to her?” It’s not subtle, it’s not classy, and it absolutely doesn’t pretend to be. Which is kind of perfect for what it is.

Edward is the kind of guy you look at and think, “yeah, this dude really believes in romance.” He’s got that boring good-boy energy, the one who plans date nights, remembers anniversaries, all that crap. His girl, Erica, she’s got this soft sweetness at first glance, but her body is just pure trouble. Huge tits that don’t fit normal clothes right, an ass that keeps stealing every scene she’s in, tight skirts that pretend to be modest and fail every time. The story just drops you in the middle of their “happy” relationship, no grinding for stats, no dumb choices, just watching him slowly fuck around with the idea of “sharing” her like it’s a game and not a complete mindfuck. And then there’s Diego. Tall, confident, that annoying kind of chill dude who always looks like he knows more than you. The second he appears, it’s obvious what role he’ll play, but the tension is still hot as hell. There’s this nice build up where Edward is acting like he’s just being open minded, teasing her with dirty talk, showing her porn of girls getting used by other guys while pretending he’s not secretly terrified and turned on at the same time.

What I liked is how the whole thing moves like a slow train crash. No branching, no “good” route where everything stays pure. You just watch them slide from harmless flirting to real line-crossing. It starts with Edward pushing Erica to dress more revealing around Diego, little stuff like bending too much in front of him, accidental tits out of the bra, her laughing it off but not really. Then the eye contact gets longer, the jokes get dirtier, and the story leans hard into that cruel mix of romance and betrayal. Edward keeps telling himself this is their “thing,” that he’s in control, that he’s the one giving permission. And it’s kinda hot at first. There’s a moment where Erica sits on Edward’s lap while texting Diego, and the whole scene is just her grinding her big ass slowly while typing, pretending it’s nothing. No crazy action, just tension and cocky little smiles. That part stuck with me more than some of the full-on sex later.

The sex itself flips between tender and brutal in a nice way. One minute you have Edward and Erica making love like they’re still in a normal couple story, kisses, soft touches, her tits bouncing as she rides him, whispering that she loves only him. Next scene, Diego has her folded up, grabbing her ass with both hands, her moaning louder than she ever did with Edward, and the camera is unkind about it. You see the little details that hurt the most: her losing control when Diego hits that spot inside her, the way she calls his name a bit too clear, the exact second Edward’s fake confidence breaks. There’s teasing everywhere, not just sexual teasing, but emotional. She’ll say “it’s just fun, you know that” while her body clearly tells another story. The game makes you sit through Edward trying to be cool about it, to pretend this is still “their” fantasy and not his private nightmare. Some scenes are honestly rough if you’re a purist. At one point Diego sits on the couch like he owns the place, Erica standing between his knees, tits half out, and Edward just watches, frozen. It pissed me off a bit how easily she melts, but I couldn’t stop watching either. And I’m not even into this stuff usually, I’m that boring vanilla guy who just wants one-on-one romance, yet here I am, watching this dude slowly lose his girl and getting hard anyway. That’s probably the worst part.

You wake up wrong. That is the first thing that hit me. Not heroic, not cool cyberpunk badass, just this sick, half-loaded feeling like your soul got dragged through a glitchy Pornhub ad. You’re in your backup sleeve, lying in some cheap future med-bay, the kind that smells like burnt plastic and sex lube, and your own body doesn’t quite fit. Your fingers are a bit too long, your chest feels heavy in a way it shouldn’t, heart rate monitor chirping like a horny bird, and your vision keeps tearing like a bad stream on xVideos. Crew’s a mess, ship’s a mess, and your upload is corrupted enough that if you calm down, you die. Which is a fucked up way of saying: you literally need to be kept turned on just to keep your brain from shutting off.

The “keep his heart rate up” thing sounds like a cheesy porn excuse, and yeah, it is, but here it actually wraps around into the story surprisingly tight. You’re surrounded by these thick-thighed, short-haired, neon-dyed space girls that look like someone smashed together a strip club and a hacker bar, then sprinkled futa on top for good measure. They are not gentle nurses. You’re not in some healing crystal spa. You are meat they are determined to keep pumping, with hands that wander the second the monitor dips below a number they like. One moment the medic is calmly explaining your neural corruption, next moment her gloved hand slides under your hospital sheet and she squeezes like she’s testing a weapon part. The captain leans over you, short hair brushing your face, tits spilling out of a half-open suit, and she’s pissed you almost died but she’s also grinding on your thigh with this lazy, practiced dominance that says she has done this before with other poor fucks on other poor ships.

I liked how the game doesn’t even pretend to be subtle about the body stuff. Your sleeve is customizable, but not in that boring “pick eye color, done” way. It’s big asses that bounce when you get grabbed, heavy tits that strain cheap fabric, cocks and clits and both, because why not if you’re paying for a synthetic body anyway. Cyberpunk setting, sure, there are glowing cityscapes outside the porthole and some talk about data smuggling and black clinic surgeons, but honestly the real sci-fi here is “how far can we push this body before the heart flatlines.” There is this one scene that stuck with me: you’re strapped into this sloopy auto-doc chair, and a futa crew engineer, all colorful undercut and grease on her cheeks, is pretending to “check your reflexes” while she slowly strokes you with one hand and plays with the med panel with the other, watching the HR line spike when she squeezes your balls just a bit too hard. And the worst part? She keeps half-talking about thruster repairs, like she’s multitasking you like any other ship component.

Not everything lands. Some of the dialogue comes out a bit stiff in the wrong way, like someone tried to write badass one-liners while also jerking off and lost the balance. There is a moment where a character calls a neural buffer a “quantum RAM thingy” and I still don’t know if that’s on purpose or just lazy, but I kind of love it because it feels like late-night shitposting turned into a game script. The pacing jumps all over: one second you’re gasping, being ridden hard by a thick-hipped futanari officer who pins your wrists to keep your pulse up, the next second someone brings up fuel dates and cargo lists like we didn’t just watch you cum all over the med bed. Also, tiny complaint that bugged me way more than it should: the damn heart rate sound is slightly too high-pitched, like my Fitbit having an orgasm, and it made me reach for my phone twice, thinking I got a notification. Still, when the girls crowd around you, colored hair brushing your skin, their hands greedy, their voices low and bossy, using your overheating body as both patient and toy, that shrill little beep just disappears into the background like any other cheap future noise. Sex as life support. Literally. It’s messed up, and it works.

Darci hits like a wet dream that crawled out of your teenage goth phase and learned how to fuck reality. Big tiddy, crow-winged, pointy-eared trouble walking through this moody Avalonian city where every alley feels like it smells of cold rain and dirty sex. She is this tall, black-lipsticked futa elf with thighs like religion and a cock that looks like it has its own backstory. Sometimes she just stands in the mirror of her crappy rented room, eye bags dark as ink, feathers twitching, and you feel how much she hates and loves her own body at the same time. The game lets you sit inside that body, inside her head, while she tries to pretend she is just another freak in a society full of polished liars and quiet monsters.

The first time you walk into the GothHouse, the place feels less like “home” and more like someone mashed a sex dungeon with a student dorm and forgot to clean up the energy. Those girls are not just NPCs, more like walking fetishes with their own scars. There is that pale vampire-esque girl in the corner, huge tits squeezed in a corset that looks one breath away from breaking, who pretends not to stare at Darci’s bulge. Later, when you actually choose to follow her to the shared shower, the way the scene goes from awkward small talk to her on her knees, lipstick smeared on Darci’s shaft, water hissing over skin, feels messy in a good way. It is not some clinical porn flow. She gags once, laughs, then keeps going, and Darci’s crow instincts flare up, claws digging into tile, eyes glowing that sick underworld purple. The sex can switch from slow, clingy lesbian grinding to full-on “pin her against the wall and fuck her brains out” when Darci stops being scared of her own power and actually uses it. The game is at its best when it lets you drag that line between tenderness and corruption with one more thrust.

Funny thing, the story pretends to be about “finding her place in society”, but half the time you are just seeing how far you can push these girls before something breaks. There is that elf priestess type who looks holy until you get her alone behind the shrine and make her moan so loud it feels like prayer turned inside out. Darci buries her cock in her while feathers shed to the ground like black snow, and for a moment the underworld power pulses through both of them, giving you this tiny illusion of romance that the next scene absolutely ignores. Some conversations drag on too long, like the game is trying to be all deep and moody while you are just waiting to see if the big ass demon girl in the kitchen will finally bend over the table. She does, eventually, and the vision of Darci grabbing those wide hips, tits swinging, driving in hard while the demon girl laughs and claws at the wood, that wipes away most complaints. Not all, because yeah, sometimes the pacing stumbles and the “universe notes” feel like reading someone’s tumblr lore between jerk-off sessions. But then there is that quiet night where Darci, exhausted, curls around another goth girl in bed, both naked, soft boobs pressed together, dick resting lazy between warm thighs instead of pounding. It is almost sweet. Almost. Then she wakes up, remembers she is a half-crow freak with hellfire between her legs, and you go hunting again.