This chat-format visual novel hits different when you're watching your fiancée get her world rocked through emoji reactions and text bubbles. Oscar's stuck at home after some accident - honestly, the setup doesn't matter much because what follows is pure psychological fuckery mixed with actual fucking. You've got this weird psychic connection with Lucy where you feel everything she's feeling, which sounds romantic until Logan shows up and starts making her feel things that'll make your phone screen fog up.

The whole thing plays out like you're reading someone else's sexts, except you're the poor bastard whose girl is sending them. Lucy starts innocent enough - "miss you babe" type messages - but Logan's got that smooth operator energy that turns sweet girlfriends into cock-hungry rebels. Watching her transformation through chat logs is weirdly addictive. One day she's asking about dinner plans, next she's describing how wet she got during "study sessions." The corruption arc moves at breakneck speed, which honestly feels more realistic than these slow-burn games that take forever to get anywhere interesting. Though sometimes I wish the pacing slowed down just so I could savor the psychological torment longer.

What really gets under your skin is the choice system - you can play Oscar as the understanding boyfriend type or go full jealous psycho mode. Neither path feels particularly satisfying because you're fundamentally powerless, just reacting to Lucy's increasingly bold adventures. The voyeuristic elements work better than expected since you're experiencing everything secondhand through texts and calls. When Lucy starts sending photos... well, let's just say the chat format doesn't limit the visual storytelling. Multiple endings give you different flavors of heartbreak or acceptance, depending on how much dignity you're willing to sacrifice. It's messy, uncomfortable, and exactly the kind of emotional masochism that makes NTR content so addictive.

Rumors always sound stupid until you are the one they whisper about. This game throws you into one of those sticky school legends, the “there is a satanic cult behind the gym” kind of bullshit, except you actually trip over the damn book they are using. Not a cute grimoire with sparkles, more like something that looks like it smells of old cum and candle smoke. You crack it open for a laugh, and the first thing it gives you is the power to make the class virgin blush so hard she almost creams herself in the middle of an “examination” scene where the teacher leans too close, her tits brushing your arm, and you realize the book is not just edgy goth decor. It lets you push people, twist their lust, nudge their fears, and at first you just use it for small shit: making your best friend text you late at night with “I had this weird dream, why were you watching me in the shower?” while you are literally watching him through some voyeur spell on your phone, zooming in like it is some cursed Pornhub live cam. The game plays like a mix of visual novel and sandbox, you wander around school halls, club rooms, that empty classroom behind the science lab where the “mystery club” girl hides her monster girl hentai doujins, and every choice you poke in the text gets a horny consequence ten minutes later. Sometimes it is just teasing, a milf teacher accidentally pressing her big ass on your desk while bending over the board, sometimes it turns into full on corruption, like you mark a shy futa class rep with a little symbol and next time you see her she is in the bathroom stall, stroking a throbbing cock that looks too heavy for her thin legs, biting her lip and mumbling your name.

The story pretends to be about this “evil power” and responsibility, but half the time I forgot the cult plot and just chased who I could break or save or both. You can go playful, using the book to make girls horny at the worst moments, like forcing a strict nurse to lactate during a routine health check, milk stains spreading on her white top while she clenches her thighs, then suddenly she is grabbing your hand and shoving it under her skirt, muttering how this is “for science.” Or you lean into full NTR stuff, using blackmail photos and the book’s little curse tricks to push a sweet romance into pure cheating. There is one brutal route where your “best friend” tries to confess to his crush under the cherry tree and you quietly tweak her feelings so she accepts, then later you drag her into a storage room and she is on her knees around your cock, choking and crying because she knows she is his, but the spell makes betrayal feel like a delicious punishment. The game loves mixing that hurt with the horny: a loyal girlfriend getting pounded by a big black cock you summoned from some “monster” page, your corrupted class rep in a gangbang bukkake scene with faceless students dripping on her glasses, the principal on her knees in the occult club room giving a sloppy oral exam as if it is normal curriculum. There is futa, femdom, crossdressing sissification stuff where the book flips your own body, giving you a fat futa dick for one route, soft tits in another, forcing you into a skirt while a female domination demon spanks you until you are hard just from the pain. One day you are fingering a shy monster girl by the pool during summer vacation, her tail curling around your wrist as she begs for creampie, the next you are watching a furry club president hump your enchanted sex toy in the empty gym. It is messy, horny, a bit mean, and the book never really feels safe; every time you use it to make someone moan louder in a titfuck or a footjob scene, there is that tiny line of text hinting that maybe the book is also rewriting you, turning a “regular student” into something closer to the cult freaks you laughed at in the first place.

Miserable salaryman with busted knuckles and dead eyes, that is where this thing starts. Guy was an MMA monster before, now he just rots in a cubicle, scrolling on his phone in the toilet, pretending to reply to emails while actually checking sex apps and watching pirate cosplay porn on Xvideos. Then out of nowhere, his old violence gets dragged back into the open and suddenly he is doing turn based combat in alleys and warzones instead of turn based meetings. It feels like some weird mix of One Piece fanfic, hentai trainer game, and midlife crisis simulator. One moment he is negotiating combat contracts with a cold mercenary boss, the next he is getting a titfuck from a drunk milf in a motel who has a maid uniform stuffed in her handbag for "work". The game just throws you into this mercenary underworld where everyone smiles like they know you are about to screw up your life, and it lets you manage that screw up day by day like some scuffed sandbox romance management sim that also really wants to show you ahegao.

The wild part is how much of the erotic stuff is glued directly onto the systems. You are not just picking “sex scene 1, 2, 3” from a menu. You do a mission for this pirate-inspired babe who is totally not Boa Hancock but obviously is, and if you mess up the combat, you still get a scene, but it is her sitting on your chest, calling you useless while she strokes you with just two fingers through your pants, slow teasing, no release, then she goes to fuck some higher-ranked merc behind a half-open door and you have to watch. That voyeurism thing hurts way more because it is your fault from earlier in the turn based fight where you tried to go full damage instead of guarding. When you get it right though, she climbs on your lap on the ship deck, half cosplay, half uniform, big tits bouncing, giving deep oral while complaining about your “no plan brain,” and if you choose the corruption options, she starts asking you to choke her and spit on her and eventually lets you creampie her ass while she wears that silly maid headband like it is the most normal thing. I actually laughed when the game let me switch from romantic “are you okay?” to “bend over the table” in the same phone chat log, like some unhinged dating sim.

There is also this whole NTR side that sneaks up. At first you think it is standard harem fantasy, you collect women like pirate bounty posters, from Nico-looking archaeologist type to serious older milf with big ass who runs a maid cafe as cover, and some android sex robot girl who is way too honest in her chat replies. But then the merc leader, this calm bastard, starts “helping” you train. You send one girl to work a side mission, the management screen shows she is "recovering," and later you catch a short animated scene where she is in his office, blouse open, him groping her while she is blushing, saying she only does this to get extra supplies for your squad. The game does not scream NTR at you, it just quietly lets it sit there in the log, like, yeah, she is technically still your girl, but is she? You can corrupt them in your direction too, sure, like putting the shy virgin into a maid uniform and having her kneel between your legs after a successful op, drool running down her chin during a messy blowjob, or making her use sex toys on herself in the shower while you watch from the door. But that little chance that someone else is also touching her, or that she will send you a phone selfie from a bathroom where you notice a man’s hand in the corner, gives the whole harem this dirty, unstable feeling. The game is horny as hell, full of anal, creampies, groping, vanilla sex mixed with BDSM edges, but it always ties it back to your role as this broken ex-fighter trying to control something in a world where even your own women might be getting fucked by someone stronger. And yeah, the AI CG sometimes looks a bit off, like one frame her boobs are too round or a hand is in a weird angle, but honestly, when Nico Robin lookalike is riding you in a maid cafe backroom, tongue out in full ahegao while you grip her hips and slam up into her, you will not care at all.

The sky in 2059 is this ugly, sick orange, like somebody pissed on the sunset and never cleaned it. You play a guy who basically grew up in that shit, no nostalgia for the old world, no “remember when we had internet” crying. Just concrete bones of cities, blown-out highways, and horny, desperate survivors who learned pretty fast that a hard cock and a sharp weapon can both save your life, just in different ways. The whole thing is built around trying not to die while everyone around you is trying not to wear clothes. You wander through ruined malls that look like war museums, find half-melted billboards with smiling people from before, and then two minutes later you’re in a scav camp where some big-titted raider queen is laughing while she makes a guy strip naked in front of everyone because he lost a bet. She tells you to choose if you wanna join in humiliating him, help him, or just watch and jerk off behind a broken vending machine. And the fucked up part is that all three options feel valid.

What sells the game for me is how it mixes “oh shit I could die” with “oh shit I’m hard” in the same scene. Like you’ll be low on food, trading bullets for a place to sleep in an underground bunker, and the guy in charge says the only open bed is already taken by his sister. You expect some cliché, but she’s the one who looks you up and down, this tall woman with thighs like she squats cars, and asks if you have any “special talents.” You can brag about your combat skills, or you can say something like “I’m good with my hands.” That tiny choice flips everything. In one route she tests you in a training room soaked with blood and sweat, in another she just grabs your belt, shoves you against the wall, and makes you prove it with her tits bouncing in your face while her brother “guards the door” and politely pretends he doesn’t hear her moaning loud enough to wake the dead. It’s gross. It’s hot. It’s weirdly funny. And somehow you still care if your character survives the night and doesn’t bleed out later in some sewer tunnel full of feral mutants.

There’s this scene that stuck with me where you’re escorting a small group through a ruined overpass. Wind howling, chunks of car skeletons everywhere, that feeling that someone is watching. You can choose to sneak slow and careful, or move fast and loud to scare off scavengers. I picked fast, like an idiot. Snipers open fire, one of your companions gets her leg shot and you have to drag her into cover. She’s this smug, curvy trader who kept flirting with you earlier, joking she’d “pay in kind” if you helped her find a safe town. When the bullets stop and it’s just the sound of her breathing hard, she asks you to cut her pants open to check the wound. You kneel between her spread legs, knife in hand, and instead of panicking she starts teasing you, saying “You’re blushing more than I’m bleeding.” You get this choice: focus on first aid like a good little boy, or let the tension flip into something filthy right there behind a burned-out truck. If you go lewd, you’re literally eating her out while she winces and laughs, leg wrapped in a bloody bandage, telling you to go faster before someone spots you. It shouldn’t be sexy. It absolutely is. And somehow that moment changes how she talks to you later when you run out of supplies and she offers to “share body heat” in a cold storage room that’s definitely not cold anymore by the time you’re done. The game keeps doing that. Serious survival, then stupid horny, then a joke about pre-war porn nobody gets anymore, then someone’s brains explode on a wall. It’s messy, and that’s exactly why it works.