This thing starts like one of those harmless school slice-of-life stories, except it never feels harmless. You’re this dude walking the halls, joking with classmates, peeking at asses in too-tight skirts, pretending everything’s normal while the game keeps whispering that nothing is. On the surface you’re just chasing romance routes and big tits, trying to figure out which milf teacher you wanna risk your future for, which childhood friend you’ll accidentally corrupt, which guy you’ll piss off enough that he starts eyeing your girl. Then it hits you that every flirt, every little “harmless” grope in the hallway, every blowjob in the music room is getting tracked, twisted, fed back into this mess of morality and mind games. One minute you’re laughing at some dumb humor scene where your buddy makes a joke about your porn folder, next minute you’re watching a scene of brutal violence and you’re not sure if you caused it or just failed to stop it.

What really got me is how your choices feel fine in the moment. You see a big ass bending over a desk and you click the option to touch. Simple. She blushes, maybe moans, maybe slaps you, sometimes both. Then three scenes later she’s crying about how nobody respects her, and the game doesn’t tell you “this is your fault,” but you know anyway. Same with the whole NTR / netorase thing. At first it’s kind of hot, letting another guy or futa girl “help out” your partner, just sharing for fun because you think you’re in control. The group scenes are wild, by the way, especially when the camera lingers just a bit too long and you catch your own character watching instead of acting. Voyeur mode inside the story itself. But little by little, jealousy starts to bleed into it. There’s this one route where you push your girl toward another guy as a joke, like “go flirt with him, I don’t mind,” and way later you catch them in a quiet corner, his hand already under her skirt, her breathing way too heavy to pretend. You can interrupt, dominate, turn it into a threesome, whatever, but that sick “maybe I went too far” feeling doesn’t really go away.

Sex scenes are not shy at all. Virgin loss with awkward eye contact, messy creampies where you’re not totally sure if it was consensual or just pressured, titfucks on the school rooftop while the city burns somewhere in the distance, rough oral that slips into domination, then flips and she chokes you right back with that sudden female domination switch. There’s drugs, too, and that’s where things get weird in a different way. Some of the best animated scenes come from those mind control bits, where you honestly can’t tell if the girl wants it or your character is just rewriting her brain to want it. The game doesn’t clean it up for you. No “safe word,” no soft fade out. You’re the one clicking “continue” while she begs you to stop and also not to stop. But then you have these strange quiet romance scenes with actual warmth, like holding hands in a classroom while talking about family you really, really shouldn’t be this close to, or lying naked beside someone after fucking them raw and talking about sanity and what’s real. Sometimes it even feels wholesome before it throws another cheating scene at you completely out of nowhere. I kind of hate that. And I kind of went back to see every single ending anyway.

Daybreak Nightbreak feels like somebody mashed together a horny Mass Effect, a janky management sim and a corruption hentai manga they hid under the mattress. The city of Chios looks normal at first, just your standard modern place where rent is too high and people pretend to be fine, and then you realise there is a whole mirror version of it lurking on the other side, full of cults, monster girls and people who really, really should not be kneeling and calling you “my lord” with their tits out. You start as this kinda awkward guy, a bit of a late bloomer vibe, virgin energy all over him, who accidentally ends up infused with a power that basically turns “building a fanclub” into “building a sex cult”. It sounds stupid, and yeah, sometimes it really is, in the best way. One moment you are doing accounting in a tiny office, trying not to go bankrupt because some megacorp is crushing your small business, and ten minutes later you are in a dark alley, whispering corrupt little “prayers” into a married woman’s ear while her husband is a room away. And of course she’s got her panties soaked and her ahegao face out in about three dialogue choices.

I like how the game pretends to be about “big decisions” and then your biggest decision turns out to be something like: Do I use mind control to slowly twist this shy college girl into an exhibitionist cosplay slut, or do I turn the local milf head of department into my personal worshipping toy first. The sandbox part hits hard because you just wander around town and keep tripping over new scenes. There’s this goblin girl in the other dimension with ridiculous hips and an ass that moves like it has its own gravity well, and the first time you get her on your lap, she’s grinding in your office chair while asking nervously if “humans really fill girls up that much.” Of course the game gives you the option to breed her stupid with a creampie that drips down her thighs. The animations are rough sometimes, like two dolls humping, but when she’s bouncing, tongue out, drool on her tits and eyes rolled back, you kind of stop caring. Actually, you never cared. And the striptease scenes? There’s this one where a normally classy businesswoman you’ve been carefully corrupting does a half-drunk lapdance for you in a cheap karaoke bar, slowly peeling off her blazer and bra, trying to keep her dignity as she ends up riding your hand under the table, whispering “I’m cheating, I’m so bad” while you finger her until she squirts on the seat. The game just leaves the mess there, no comment.

The corruption feels deliciously slow when it wants to. That college subplot where you go back to campus hits like a twisted nostalgia trip. You start out helping a stressed student with her grades, totally innocent tutoring, then “accidentally” using your power to make her respond a bit too strongly to your touch. Next visit she’s sucking you off in an empty classroom, knees on the cold floor, big doe eyes looking up, lipstick smeared, trying to swallow all of it like she’s cramming for finals. And later you drag her into this stupid cosplay event in the other dimension, make her dress as a bunny girl in front of a small crowd of your followers, and she ends up flashing her pussy to them, moaning while they chant your name like some horny church. It is weirdly romantic too sometimes, buried under all the filth. You can build actual relationships, have soft moments in between the handjobs and public sex. Sitting with a milf on a rooftop, talking about her failed marriage, then quietly sliding your hand under her skirt while she leans on your shoulder, torn between guilt and arousal, might be one of those little scenes that stick. But yeah, then fifteen minutes later you’re using mind control to make her bend over a balcony, tits hanging out, while half the city could technically see you pound her from behind and fill her with a thick creampie she can’t stop leaking. The game swings between “Yakuza-style side story” and “hardcore hentai brainrot” so fast it feels wrong, and that’s kind of why I couldn’t stop clicking.

Ben is supposed to be the lucky survivor kid that comes back home after being gone, but honestly he feels more like a loaded gun somebody forgot on the kitchen table. He crashes on this messed up magic island, gets picked up by a witch doctor who treats “therapy” like torture mixed with sex education and combat drills, then strolls back into normal suburb house life pretending he doesn’t remember shit. Not because he actually forgot, but because that island is basically a pornified god glitch with monsters, spirit bullshit, and power that turns people crazy. So he fakes amnesia, does the polite traumatized boy act, and then the game quietly starts poking at every line you thought it would respect.

The house is where it really hits. Rachel as adoptive mom is that slow-burn headache. She’s warm, too warm, leans in too close, touches his arm too long, falls asleep on the couch in those thin shorts like she forgot he’s not twelve anymore. The game loves to push Ben into those micro moments. You’re standing behind her in the kitchen, watching her reach for something high, shirt riding up, and the UI is asking if you heal her old injury with magic or “accidentally” brush your hand where you shouldn’t. It’s not nice, it’s not healthy, it’s fucking hot. And then it slaps mental health in your face by having Ben wake up sweaty, hearing island drums in his head like a PTSD ringtone while he’s half hard from dreaming about her. Jessica is different chaos. She’s the “normal” one who isn’t normal at all, always teasing, sitting with her legs open just enough to notice, sending you those Instagram thirst traps from the next room like it’s a joke. There’s this one scene where she drags you to her room “to help with homework” and suddenly the camera angle is all about that barely covered ass while she bends over the bed. You can play innocent, you can peek, or you can use a tiny twist of mind control to make her forget how long your eyes stayed there. That little power turns every simple walk through the hallway into a corruption puzzle.

What really fucked with me is how the game keeps pretending it’s about “protecting the world” while letting you slowly rot from the inside. The witch doctor’s voice pops in sometimes, like an evil conscience, reminding you that sex can be a ritual, that feeding your urges might actually make your magic stronger. Then you get scenes with monsters that are less “fight or flight” and more “fight or fuck” and suddenly you’re not sure if you’re the hero or just a horny shaman with mommy issues. There’s a combat bit in the alley at night, where some paranormal creep tries to blackmail you after catching you watching your neighbors through the window. You can blast him with elemental magic, or twist his mind till he thinks he’s the pervert who started it and you walk away clean. That mixture of voyeurism, blackmail, and power fantasy hits different when Ben is smiling softly while lying to everyone, including himself. Zara shows up like the hot demon guidance counselor, offering “help” with his blocked memories and then sliding her hand down his chest as she describes the island tearing reality open. She wants the secrets, the rifts, the raw corruption, and she’s ready to spread her legs or someone else’s to get it. Group scenes feel like rituals gone wrong. People are moaning, bodies tangled, and in the background there’s this feeling that something is watching, that the island is feeding off all that sex. One moment you’re in a tender almost-romance with Rachel on the sofa, her head on your shoulder, the next you’re knee-deep in a magical gangbang that might literally open a portal. The story acts like it cares about Ben’s guilt and mental state, then hands you a teasing choice like “comfort her” or “possess her mind for a while” and both options feel right for different disgusting reasons. Watching him flirt between sweet, scared boy and cold, dominant bastard made me feel like I was doing character research and jacking off at the same time, which is exactly as fucked up as it sounds.

Office job, boring life, same cheap instant coffee every morning, and then suddenly your dick is gone and your ass looks like something from those Twitter thirst posts. That is the vibe here. One day you are this invisible drone in a suit, the kind of guy no one remembers in the elevator, next day you wake up with tits that do not fit your old shirt and the whole city looking at you like fresh meat on sale. It is not some noble magical destiny thing either. It feels dirty and mean in a good way. People around you start pushing, touching, “helping” you adjust to your new body. Some are sweet, some are creepy as hell, half of them want to get inside your pants, the other half want to own you. And you can lean into it. Or pretend you are not into it while your clothes keep getting shorter.

The nice thing is that nothing is clean cut. You can be that shy mess who blushes when a girl kisses your neck in the bathroom stall or let yourself get dragged into a backroom and end the night with smeared lipstick and sore knees. There is this one early scene that sold me: you are in a crowded bar, still not used to walking in heels, trying to keep your new boobs from jumping out of the dress someone “helped” you choose. Some office colleague who barely talked to you before corners you at the bar, offers a drink, hand on your hip, fingers slowly sliding lower. You can shove him off, play along to get something out of him, or just let him use your mouth right there while people pretend not to look. And it is not just straight trashy stuff either. The girls in this game are dangerous. One of the women at work, proper milf with that strict boss energy, takes you “for coffee” and suddenly you are on your knees between her thighs in a locked conference room, her nails in your hair, telling you this is the only way to keep your new position. Felt like someone recorded a Pornhub Premium audition and turned it into a choice. I was lowkey impressed and also annoyed because the text box covers part of her face and it drives me crazy every single time.

It pretends to be a romantic thing sometimes, with all these dating bits and little stats going up, but under the sugar it is pure corruption. The game loves putting you in situations where you say “just this once” and five minutes later you are the office slut everyone gropes when the lift door closes. One path had me playing nice with this nerdy girl who seems harmless, then she shows up in full cosplay at a convention, ropes you into a couple costume, and suddenly she is sliding her hand under your skirt in a crowded hallway, whispering how no one will notice if you stay quiet. Another time I went the total bimbo route, jacking up every sexy option, getting pumped full of “vitamins,” brain getting softer, outfits getting tighter, ending up on my back with a small crowd taking turns while someone records it on their phone. It is filthy, it is messy, text sometimes stumbles like my own ESL brain, and the AI-style art can look a bit cursed on hands if you stare too long, but somehow that fits the whole “your life is spiraling out of control” feeling. I kept telling myself I would play the classy path, no weird power games, no blackmail, and ten clicks later I am signing a shady contract while a guy has his fingers inside me under the desk and my so-called “friend” is snapping pics in the corner like it is no big deal. Anyway, I’m absolutely not addicted, I can quit after just one more scene.