U.A. is supposed to be this holy temple of justice, right, where everyone dreams big about saving the world in tight outfits and heroic poses. Here it feels more like a horny pressure cooker where every “quirk” argument ends with someone half naked and the moral high ground just quietly dies in the corner. The game takes that whole heroic ideal from the anime and twists it just enough that you keep asking yourself, “Is this still parody, or did we just confess something dark about power and sex and school uniforms?” and then you click the next dialog option anyway, because you want to see if the teacher actually locks the door this time. She does, obviously.

What really messed with me is how normal everything pretends to be at the start. It looks like a silly visual novel joke: silly sound effects, characters that feel like cheap copies of the originals, all big eyes and exaggerated boobs stuffed into uniforms that clearly violate every dress code ever. At first you laugh because it is so over the top. The hero talk, the “we must study hard” stuff, the goofy villain threats. Then the game slowly shifts into this rhythm where studying is just foreplay for another sex scene and “fighting evil” is sort of an excuse to pin a classmate against a wall, or to “reward” a girl for not failing some test. You think you are playing the brave student, but really you are playing the guy who uses the badge of hero to get away with things that, in real life, would feel pretty fucked up. And still, you keep chasing new CGs like some moral philosopher with his dick out, telling himself it is “research on ethics of consent under power imbalance”. I caught myself thinking about Kant during a blowjob scene and I am still not proud of that.

Most of the scenes are funny until they are not. A villain appears, does the usual cartoon evil routine, and seconds later the tension flips into sex like it was scripted by a very horny algorithm. It is hot, I admit that. The bodies are drawn with almost rude detail, the way the clothes cling and then slip, the way the uniform skirt rides up just enough before it is yanked out of the way. There is one moment in a classroom, late, where a character is explaining some heroic principle while sitting on a desk with her legs apart, and you realize the “lesson” is pure roleplay, the chalkboard behind her still full of equations that no one is ever going to finish. The game almost never stops to ask if this world of future saviors should be this soaked in sex. It just assumes: power plus stress plus puberty equals constant fucking. In a way that honesty is more disturbing than if it tried to justify itself. Being a superhero here is not about saving people. It is about having a socially acceptable reason to be everywhere, to peek into danger and into panties at the same time. It is stupid and arousing and morally dirty, and the worst part is how easy it is to click “next” and let ethics wait until you close the browser.

The academy grounds hide a maze of tantalizing secrets and forbidden desires waiting to be unraveled by the daring. Our hero's goal is clear - to seduce every girl roaming the halls and classrooms, turning each encounter into an unforgettable escape of pleasure and domination. But winning their hearts isn’t as simple as it seems; problems arise that must be solved with cunning and strategy.

Managing a staff of loyal followers becomes crucial in navigating the complex power play between classes. The academy splits its students into two distinct groups: the elite 1st class and the less favored 2nd class; each offers different pleasures and challenges. Refusing acceptance into the academy? There’s a wild alternative – sneak into the rooms of the 1st class girls and pledge your nights to them to prove your worth.

To climb the ranks and cement your place among the 1st grade elite, you must find yourself alone, locked in a room with all these breathtaking girls, each craving your attention. Every action, every choice you make shapes the dark, intoxicating story unfolding around you. Play this immersive, wicked game however you desire - there are no boundaries but those you set yourself. Step inside the academy and unleash your darkest cravings.

It’s weird how this game starts like it’s pretending to care about plot. You think it’s about Tsunade gambling again, being her usual chaotic self, but nah - two minutes in and it just throws you into the mess. There’s this sense of shameless humor I kinda liked; it doesn’t even try to justify anything. She owes money, her solution involves clones, and everyone’s naked before you can blink. The sound effects are ridiculous - like someone mixed old arcade bleeps with wet noises, and somehow it works. I laughed, then got turned on, then laughed again. The rhythm feels accidental, like a loop someone forgot to trim, but that’s part of the charm. You can almost imagine some guy in 2008 coding it while blasting Eurobeat in the background.

What I didn’t expect was how expressive the faces are. Not polished, but raw in that flash‑era way where every exaggerated blink feels hand‑made. Tsunade’s boobs take up half the screen, sure, but her grin sells it more than the physics. I caught myself clicking too fast just to see if the clones would glitch out - and they did, kind of melting together mid‑animation. It’s oddly beautiful, like a broken GIF that refuses to die. The Raikage scene hits different - too fast, too much flexing, but there’s this energy, like two powerhouses trying to out‑moan each other. I remember thinking, “this shouldn’t be hot,” and yet.

Story? Barely there. But the pacing keeps you hooked, because it’s never just sex - it’s comedy wrapped around sweat. I like that it doesn’t moralize; it just exists, messy and loud. The cumshot ending lands with a splat that feels almost celebratory. Would I call it art? Maybe not. But it’s got that same rough soul as old chiptunes - imperfect loops, dirty fun, no pretense. You finish it and kinda want to replay, even though you know every beat. Maybe that’s nostalgia, or maybe I’m just into stupidly honest smut. Either way, it lingers.

Charlie looks like she walked straight out of some trashy late night reality TV show, the kind you leave running in a tiny browser window while you pretend to answer Slack messages. Blonde hair sprayed to hell, tits pushed up like they’re begging for trouble, fake sweet smile that lasts exactly two sentences before she starts rolling her eyes at everyone. The whole thing is set up like one of those talent show parodies: judges, cheesy lights, way too much pink everywhere. Except nobody really cares if she can sing. They just want to see what her throat can handle when the “mic” gets switched out for something a lot thicker and veiny.

The fun part is how fast the whole “competition” vibe falls apart. At first she’s acting all annoyed, snapping at the judges, whining about cramps and being in a bad mood, and you’re thinking “ok, standard brat routine.” Then some genius decides her attitude problem needs a more… direct kind of medicine. No fake romance bullshit, no ten-minute build up. One second she’s complaining, next second her face is shoved over the table, ass up, skirt halfway around her waist, panties hanging off one ankle like she forgot they even exist. The way she goes from eye-rolling diva to moaning into the mic stand while a big cock is ramming into her from behind is honestly way hotter than it has any right to be. There’s this little moment where she tries to keep talking trash, but every time he bottoms out her voice jumps and it turns into these pathetic half-gasps, like she hates loving it. That’s the good stuff.

They also sneak in this “helpful female judge” that pretends to comfort her, except her hand is all over Charlie’s tits and sliding between her legs while the guy keeps pounding her. It turns into this messy threesome vibe where the blonde is getting her nipples sucked, clit teased, and her pussy stuffed full at the same time, and you can tell her brain just taps out. She grabs the other girl’s hair at one point, pulls her in for this angry kiss, and then loses it when the cock starts slamming faster, like she’s trying to bite back a scream and failing. When he finally blows it, they don’t do that tasteful fade out crap. Nope. Thick load on her face, in her mouth, some dripping from her chin while the other girl is licking the leftovers off her lips like it’s part of the scoring system. Charlie’s mascara is a mess, hair all over, chest heaving, and she still has that pissed off little glare like she wants to complain again but all that cum on her tongue keeps her quiet. Honestly, it feels exactly like watching a trash TV episode that accidentally turned into hardcore porn, and I kind of wish more “talent” shows ended with the loser getting fucked senseless instead of a sad montage.