You wake up on this ugly rust bucket of a fishing ship, wearing an orange sweater that keeps trying to crawl up over your borrowed tits, and everyone is calling you Vilma like that is totally normal. You know that feeling when you're lying to every single person in the room and your dick is half hard at the same time? Yeah, that feeling is basically the whole game. The dev clearly loves Halloween junk and classic mystery cartoons, but everything is twisted just enough that it looks like the cheap porn parody DVD you find in the wrong section of the store. Scrooby keeps shivering, Saggy looks like he smells like wet dog and weed, and you are the “smart girl” with the big ass who is supposed to solve a murder in five minutes or get blown the fuck up by some letter bomb. And of course the real Vilma is naked and tied up in a storage room, annoyed, horny, and way too clever for her own good.

The fun part is how the timer hangs over your head while you are trying to decide if you should drag another clue out of Nymphne with actual logic or just bend her over a crate and fuck her until she starts talking. I wasted two full runs trying to see how much I could get away with before the bomb went off, just speedrunning bad decisions. Took me a bit to realize the “deduction table” is not just flavor text. You slap evidence on it like a crazy wall, except instead of red string you have your cock and some pretty mean dialog options. One run I focused only on interrogations, squeezed Ford until he spilled half the plot, solved the murder like some nerd god, and then realized I had barely touched Vilma in the hold. Next run I did the opposite: ignored half the questions, kept going back downstairs, playing good cop / very bad cop with her. Her reaction when you pretend to be her, while she is tied up and watching you strip off “her” sweater, is nasty in the best way. Also, the jiggle in some of the animated loops is honestly stupid good, then on the next scene a hand looks like it was drawn by someone using a mousepad in a bus. It made me laugh, then still made me horny, which is kind of impressive and also annoying.

What really sold me is how the voyeur stuff is baked into the whole structure. You’re pretending to be the smartest girl on the ship while the real one is naked furniture in the next room, and the game keeps tempting you to leave her there just a little longer so you can wander around and peek at everybody’s secrets. I kept pausing on the same detail: her glasses. When you put them on and walk into an interrogation, people suddenly trust you, but you know they actually belong to the girl who is currently gagged and getting her ass toyed with below deck. The contrast between playing the clever detective and then going downstairs to use her like a cum-dump clue dispenser is filthy in a way screenshots don’t show. Some of the humor hits hard too, like when Saggy tries to tell you he “respects women” while staring at your chest, or when Scrooby freaks out at the idea of anal like that is somehow worse than the murder. I had one run where I solved the case perfectly, unlocked a fancy sex scene with Nymphne, then realized I had missed a tiny conditional flag in the storage room so the Vilma finale variant didn’t trigger and I actually growled at my monitor. Still going back to clean up those last few CGs like a pervert completionist.

Kate Adler looks like the kind of woman you cross the street for, not because she’s scary, but because you know she’d read every dirty thought in your head and file it away like evidence. The game just throws you into this huge, sweaty, sleepless city where everything feels a bit wrong, like the whole place smells of perfume, gun oil and cheap disinfectant. One second you’re zooming in on some grainy club camera feed, trying to match faces, and two clicks later you’re watching that same guy rail some VIP slut in a back room while Kate acts all professional and still clearly getting turned on. She pretends she doesn’t care, you don’t pretend anything. The whole thing plays like a visual novel that forgot how to be polite. You bounce between interrogations, tailing people, reading all these messages full of lies, and then suddenly you’re choosing if Kate lets someone bend her over a balcony in those stupidly tight jeans. The pacing is weird in a good way. Some scenes are slow, like late night Netflix scrolling where you tell yourself “just one more,” then out of nowhere the story slaps you with missing girls, fake passports, and this high-society sex club that tries way too hard to look exclusive and ends up feeling like a horny IKEA maze.

Nocturne, that club, is where the game really starts being nasty. You get those masked rich assholes, dancers in latex, people pretending they’re not scared, and Kate walking in like she owns the place even though she’s basically spying. There’s this moment where she’s in a private room, supposedly just listening to two big shots talk business, and the dialogue quietly shifts from blackmail to who they’ve had in chains last weekend. You get the choice to keep the audio clean or push her into “deeper cover” and yeah, if you pick the second one she ends up on her knees, using sex as a tool and also clearly liking it. I loved that scene and kinda hated it, because the game gives you the power and then rubs your face in what you used it for. Also the UI text for the clues is tiny in some menus and it pissed me off for no reason and then I forgot about it five minutes later when she got her ass fingered in the backseat of a town car while pumping a politician for information. Sometimes the writing hits hard, like when she’s alone on a rooftop, tired, trying to connect dates and names, and her phone buzzes with some slutty offer to “come relax” at the club again. Other times it throws in jokes that land like a wet sock. Doesn’t even matter. The city feels alive in that broken, horny way where every neon sign hides a camera and every secret costs either money, blood, or Kate’s pussy. You jump from glossy penthouse to damp tunnel to cramped office with an evidence board, and it never fully explains things, just trusts you to click, read, decide who she fucks, who she betrays, and how deep she lets that corruption crawl into her body and her brain. Dare to play it alone, or invite company?

Foggy forest, quiet as hell, and you’re lost with a hard-on you don’t want to admit you have. That’s pretty much the mood here. The trees feel wrong in that fairy-tale way, like they’re watching, but not in a horror movie thing, more like they’re just waiting for you to do something stupid and horny. Then this witch shows up, and she doesn’t look like the usual “I cast fireball” witch. She’s got that lazy smile that says she already knows what you’re going to click, and she smells like a toy store mixed with a bath bomb shop. Latex, sugar, soap, that weird clean-but-not-innocent vibe. The game doesn’t rush to shout what you’re in for, but yeah, if you’re into inflatables and transformation and that floaty, rubbery ownership of a body that stops being flesh and turns into a damn balloon, it hits that itch pretty directly.

The cool part is how low-key everything starts. It’s just you poking around her little forest corner, clicking stuff, poking at bottles, weird trinkets, that sort of thing. Half of it feels like background junk until you notice something reacts if you try again, or if you did another scene before. There was this moment where I accidentally triggered a change too early, and my character’s body started filling out, tight and squeaky, and I actually paused, staring at my screen like, “ok, I did not expect it to jump to that this fast.” The game is short, yeah, but it doesn’t waste your kinks. The inflation is not just “you get bigger.” It’s that slow, pressurised feeling in the text and art, the witch teasing you, almost casual about turning your body into her private float, testing how much air or magic you can hold. She treats the whole thing like a cozy craft project, while you’re the one struggling with how round you’re getting. It’s a weird mix of mystery and fetish, and I like that it doesn’t apologize for it even once. You’re not playing a hero, you’re playing a future decoration, and she knows it way before you do.

The forest itself is small, but it feels like one of those “hidden room” games where there’s always one last strange item you haven’t clicked in the right order. I spent way too long clicking the same damn stump because I was convinced it had a secret, and honestly I’m still annoyed it didn’t. But while I was being stubborn, I kept noticing little reactions: the witch’s comments changing, the way she hints at other “guests” she inflated before, maybe still around, maybe not in the shape you expect. There’s magic everywhere, but it’s that squishy, rubber-magic. You’re not slinging spells; you’re more like the spell result. A toy, a trophy, an experiment. The furry angle sneaks in too, with those hints that your body isn’t only filling with air, it’s shifting into something cutesy, animal-ish, then more object than creature. Ears, tail, then plastic sheen, then hollow. It’s honestly hot as hell if you’re into losing control and becoming a thing instead of a person. And the best part, or the worst, depending on your brain, is that the witch never seems cruel. She’s playful, almost seasonal, like some twisted holiday hostess inviting you to become part of the decorations, tucked between the trees, gleaming under moonlight, filled tight and waiting. You kind of know from the beginning this forest is not a place you walk out of on your own feet. You’re rolling, floating, squeaking your way out, if you leave at all.

There is this strange, heavy feeling when the game opens, like walking back into an old porn folder you forgot, but someone has replaced all cheap hentai with something that actually stares back at you. You are this ancient thing, Iraáil, a vampire god-thing, whatever, but tired as fuck. Not the sexy edgy teen vampire tired, more like “I’ve seen too much blood and too much bad sex and I’m bored of both” tired. The game sits you in that mood right away. You’re not chasing girls in school uniforms, you’re walking into the ruins of your own family, and everyone in it either wants to fuck you, kill you, or cry when they see you, sometimes all three in same scene. The writing leans hard into that mix of horny and awful. One moment you are licking blood off someone’s throat while their lover watches and shakes, half terrified, half desperate to be next, and the text lingers on the taste, the smell, the way their body softens under you. Then, in the next line, it hits you with “this is your child’s descendant” and suddenly your dick and your conscience are in the same small coffin.

What got me is how the erotic scenes never feel like they are in a separate folder from the rest. You make a small choice, like putting a hand on a shoulder instead of around the throat, and three scenes later someone is either on their knees for you, or sobbing and calling you a monster while still grinding against your leg. The game keeps score in this weird fear and love way, but it never throws a big popup, it just quietly warps how people look at you. There was this one moment where I chose to be “gentle” with a worshiper in a temple, just to see what the soft option looks like. It still ended in cum and blood on the floor, but the whole vibe flipped. Instead of them begging you to hurt them more, they were whispering that they missed you, like some fucked up immortal ex, and I actually paused, alt tabbed to Spotify, changed the playlist, came back and just stared at the text like “why am I sad with my pants down.” And the horror parts, they are not jumpscares, more like that slow “oh, I really did those things, huh” realization. When your progeny strips for you, showing bite marks you gave generations ago like holy scars, it’s hot in that dirty, stomach twisting way. You want to click further, you also want to close the browser and go touch grass. But you don’t. You pretend you will be kinder this time, then pick the cruel dialogue anyway, just to see how deep the rabbit hole of this fucked up immortal soap opera goes. The game remembers. The characters remember. Their bodies remember you most of all.