Free City is trashy in the best way, like that one bar where the floor sticky, the cocktails weak, and somehow you still end up naked in the bathroom with someone you met ten minutes ago. You play this private eye who is supposed to care about some "suicide case," but baby, the man investigating is thirstier than the whole police department. Every time I tried to follow a clue I ended up following a pair of tits instead. And the game knows it. It throws curves at you all the time, big boobs everywhere, big asses trying to distract you while you pretend to be professional. You question a widow, she is crying, mascara running, and two clicks later she is on the couch with her legs open, asking you in that fake innocent voice if you can "comfort" her. Sure, girl, I bring the comfort and the condom. The whole visual novel flow is slow enough to tease, but not that boring otome slow where you need three hours just to see a hand touch. Here, one wrong answer and suddenly you have her on all fours, her ass up, and the screen full of thick cg that looks like it came straight out of someone’s secret folder named "do_not_open". Then you realize she has a husband. Or had. Or has a boyfriend too. Honestly I lost track, because everyone cheating on everyone and I was sitting there sipping my iced coffee like a messy therapist watching a live soap opera.

The best part is how the game keeps pretending it is a serious noir story while you are busy corrupting half the city. One moment you talk about crime, motives, evidence, being all "hard-boiled detective", the next you are balls-deep in some interracial group scene where you forgot why you came there in the first place. There is romance if you want it, that sugary "I care about you" vibe, but the romance quickly turns into "tie me up and spit in my mouth" if you push the right dialogue options. Some of those bdsm scenes come out of nowhere. You flirt a little, do the soft hand touch, then boom, she is naked, wrists bound to the headboard, big tits pressed together with rope, and you decide if you want to be gentle or absolutely ruin her. And sometimes the game just goes, "Oh, you like girls too?" and hands you a lesbian scene with a side of voyeurism, while you stand back like a sleazy director watching two women go from shy kisses to full tongue, fingers, and one of them riding the other’s face until the bedsheets look like a crime scene by themselves. The group sex bits are wild but messy in a fun way, people grabbing whatever body part in reach, someone taking it in the ass while moaning about how they should not be doing this, someone else with cum dripping on their big boobs, and the story still trying to tell you, "hey, remember, murder mystery?" No, babe, I remember her legs shaking when I picked the "harder" option. The only thing that annoyed me was one tiny sound effect during a climax that sounded like someone stirring mac and cheese in a plastic bowl, threw me right out for a second, and now I cannot stop thinking about it. But anyway, every time I thought I would play just a bit and close the tab, suddenly I am six choices deep into another affair, lying to one character while fucking another in an alley, my detective morally bankrupt and my browser history screaming help.

Keiichi feels like that dude who sits alone in the corner of a beach bar, pretending he’s “just enjoying the view” while his entire life is quietly catching fire. The game throws you right into his vacation, into this fake-relaxing tropical vibe where the air smells like sunscreen and cheap cocktails, and suddenly every girl you meet has a body that makes you forget what you were going to say. It looks like some light romantic thing at first, all smiles at the hotel café, sand stuck between toes, sun on brown skin, but it doesn’t stay soft. One moment you’re sharing iced coffee with a curvy Brazilian waitress, watching her ass sway when she leans over to clean a table, and the next she’s teasing you under the counter with her foot, pressing her soft sole against your crotch while she keeps talking like nothing’s happening. She laughs when you spill your drink, by the way. Total bully energy, and I kind of hated it and loved it.

The whole story is written like this messy diary he’s keeping on his phone, like when you open Google Docs at night and write stuff you’d never send to anyone. Some scenes are sweet in a painful way. You’re on the beach at sunset with this latina girl who pretends she just wants to talk about “future plans” and family drama, but the camera just sits way too long on her tits pushed up in that bikini, on tan thighs crossed in the sand. She puts her feet in your lap, wriggling her toes like it’s nothing, and casually asks if you’ve ever had your dick sucked on an empty shore. Cue choice screen: be a gentleman, or let her slowly slide down, her lips wrapping around you while waves crash in the background. You can pick if he’s loyal or just a horny idiot, but no matter what you choose, you still feel like a creep checking all the routes. There’s a party scene too, loud music, glow sticks, everyone half-drunk, her lipstick smeared as she pushes you into a dark corner near the pool and takes you in her mouth, choking and giggling, then asking if you’d still call her in the morning. You probably won’t.

The game keeps throwing women at you like you’re the last man on earth. Big tits bouncing in tight tops at the hotel café, big asses in tiny shorts walking ahead of you on the boardwalk, different skin tones, different attitudes. One is shy and romantic, blushing when your hand brushes her ankle, then later she’s the one giving you a slow, almost worshipful footjob on the bed, her painted toes gripping your shaft while she whispers that she wants to belong to you. Another girl flirts with your friends, flirts with everyone actually, and if you follow the wrong choices she heads off with some other guy, and the game just lets you sit in that sick netorare feeling, reading Keiichi’s jealous diary entry where he pretends it doesn’t bother him. Sometimes the choices feel fake, like they clearly want you to go for the full harem route, with all of them orbiting around your dick on this “vacation that changes everything”, but then there are these tiny moments where someone refuses you, or talks about old wounds, and suddenly your porn game turns into late-night emotional torture. Still, every time I told myself I’d stick to one wholesome romance, I ended up at another beach party, staring at bouncing tits in a wet bikini top, toes sliding along my shaft under the table, and clicking the most trash option available without even pretending to be a good guy.

Burned out barista flies to Rio thinking he’s going to “find himself” or some bullshit like that, and the game immediately throws him into the kind of vacation people only talk about when their main browser is on Pornhub and their incognito tab is full of brown skin, sandy beaches and sloppy oral. You’re this dude who spent way too long serving cappuccinos and listening to people complain about soy milk, and now you’re landing in Brazil with a cheap suitcase, a fried brain and exactly zero idea what you’re doing. Which is perfect, because the game pretty much weaponizes that clueless energy. One moment you’re half jetlagged, trying to figure out how to pay for a cab without looking like a complete idiot, next moment you’re standing in front of a beach bar, staring at a brazilian latina with legs for days, feet in sandals, laughing at you while she knows exactly how stupid you look. And yeah, she catches you staring at her toes. The game does this a lot: it lets you get horny in a really messy, human way, not like some clinical porn script. When she notices your eyes slide down, you actually get a choice. Look away and pretend you were checking the sand. Or keep looking and admit it. If you go for the second one, her smile changes a little, and you suddenly understand this trip is not about “rest”. It’s about how far you’ll actually go once no one from your boring cafe life is watching.

Stuff escalates slowly and then all at once. There’s the first beach party where everyone’s drunk on cheap caipirinha and outdated reggaeton hits, and you’re squeezed between sweaty bodies, lights, and this girl pressing her ass against you while her boyfriend is literally five meters away buying drinks. Or not her boyfriend. The game never makes it clean. It plays with that netorare edge in a way that feels more like a bad decision on a hot night than some hardcore fetish show. You get scenes where you’re sitting at a plastic table, sand under your feet, she slips off her flip flop and her toes slide over your crotch while she pretends to talk about “culture” and “Brazilian spirit”, and her guy is right there laughing at something on his phone. In one branch he catches on, in another he just stays blissfully dumb. Sometimes you feel like a piece of shit, sometimes you don’t care at all, and the script doesn’t try to clean it up for you. When she drags you to the water later and pushes you against the rocks to suck you off while the tide hits your legs, you remember that you were supposed to “reflect on your life choices” this year. Instead you’re getting wet sand on your ass and her mouth around your dick while she strokes you with the same foot that teased you earlier at the bar, making half-muffled jokes in portuguese you barely get. It’s romantic for two seconds, then filthy, then kind of romantic again. Like a party that smells like sunscreen, sweat and cheap perfume, and you only realize you lost your wallet when you’re already back in the hostel bed, still tasting her on your lips.

The game pretends to be about choices, and in a way it is, but it’s not that tidy “good route / bad route” stuff you see everywhere. You can chase a more tender vacation romance with one girl, share quiet moments with her on the beach at sunset, listen to her talk about trying to get out of the favela, kiss her slowly, feel her tongue slide into your mouth while she climbs on your lap, her bikini bottoms pushed aside so she can ride you carefully while waves crash in the background. Or you can screw that up completely by answering one question wrong and ending in some cramped back room of a noisy bar, where another woman drops to her knees so fast it feels almost transactional, letting you fuck her throat while her mascara smudges and her feet rub together along your shaft in a messy footjob that’s more desperation than affection. Sometimes it feels like you’re the tourist ruining people’s lives, other times you’re just a guy getting dragged along in someone else’s chaos. There is interracial stuff, yeah, and the game doesn’t treat it like porn category labels, just like reality: different tones of skin tangled together on sweaty sheets, breath in your ear, nails on your back, a leg over your shoulder while you go down on her until she pulls your hair because you’re too rough. It’s not “polished” at all. Some scenes feel rushed, some jumps between daytime coffee in a small cafe and night-time blowjob in a dark alley are jarring, and sometimes the tone flips so fast you wonder if two writers fought over the script in a Google Doc. But that messy vibe is exactly like a real bad decision vacation. You tell yourself you came here to rest. Then you wake up with sand in your shoes, bite marks on your chest, a girl’s phone number written on your arm in marker, and you’re already checking if she’s online while another woman sends you a message asking if you’re coming to the next party. The game never asks if you deserve any of it. It just lets you sink deeper.

Your life should have been boring as hell. Little farm kid, small fantasy town, marry a local girl, grow potatoes, die. Instead you somehow put a ring on one of the most famous adventurers in the whole damn kingdom, this stacked, battle-scarred goddess with giant tits, a perfect ass and a sword arm that could probably snap your spine if you misbehave. And she actually agrees to drop the armor, squeeze into a too-tight tavern uniform and work in your tiny, creaky bar as the new sexy waitress. It already feels like cheating just watching her bend over tables and pretend she doesn’t notice the way every drunk in the room is measuring her up like she is tonight’s main dish.

The game basically runs on that one dirty thought you never admit to anyone: what if your own wife wasn’t just yours? You’re the owner, she’s the barmaid, and every night the place fills with horny bastards, big spenders, shady mercs, orcs with big black cocks that barely fit in their trousers, and you decide how far you push her. Maybe you keep it “sweet” at first. Let her flirt, talk with that cute shy smile, boobs almost falling out of her corset while guys tip extra to see a little more cleavage. Then you start choosing drinks or events that push the mood. Stronger liquor, louder music, “accidental” wardrobe malfunctions, bets that end with her sitting in some stranger’s lap while you pretend to count coins. It’s all about nudging the line and then watching it vanish. One moment you’re proud husband, next moment you’re in the storage room jerking off because she just let a dark elf slap her ass in front of everyone and laughed like it was nothing.

What hits hard is how the game makes you feel both powerful and pathetic at the same time. You call the shots, pick dialog, pick what she wears, if she serves the regulars in that half-open shirt or that super tight skirt she can barely walk in. You choose if she smiles and seduces, if she blushes in humiliation, if she gets rough-handled behind the bar when you “look away” a bit too long. Sometimes you try to be a good guy and keep her safe, but the tavern itself kind of corrupts you. Money goes up faster when she lets them touch. Reputation spreads when she serves the big black stud in the corner and doesn’t stop him when his hand climbs under her skirt. And the part that fucked my brain a bit is that she actually likes the attention if you keep pushing that way, or she hates it and still does it because she wants you happy, and both versions are hot for completely different reasons. It’s not just porn, it’s this slow, messy slide from “my loyal wife” to “everyone’s favorite milf waitress” with you stuck between jealousy, pride, arousal and this weird, guilty smile while adventurers brag about how good her mouth feels. By the time the tavern is famous, you’re not even sure if you’re still the husband or just the guy who owns the bed she crawls into after getting pounded behind the bar. And somehow, that’s exactly what you were dreaming of from the start.