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.

Samantha shows up in this rotten city like she walked out of some half-forgotten cyberpunk fanfic and then someone spilled porn all over the manuscript. She is “the fixer”, sure, but half the time it feels like the city is fixing her instead, grinding her down with every job, every favor, every late-night “meeting” with someone who has too much power and not enough morals. The game throws you into Blaston, this polluted, hungry place where everyone wants something from her body first and her brains second. One moment you are discussing sabotage in a factory office, pretending you care about output numbers, and five minutes later the foreman has her bent over the desk, still trying to finish the dialogue options while his absurdly huge cock is already pushing in. It feels wrong and hot at the same time, especially when you realize her choices earlier made this exact humiliation possible. My inner literature nerd kept thinking about noir detectives who always drink too much and get punched in the alley, except here the hangover is replaced by cum dripping down her thigh on the train home while people stare.

What I like is how the game constantly forces you to juggle “professional” life and just pure degeneracy. You wake up, check your phone like in real life, see three messages: boss wants you to talk to a gang leader, some rich wife wants “private mediation” with her cheating husband, and a shady lab sends a polite invite to “participate in an experimental treatment” to improve her physical abilities. Saying yes to that third one can turn Samantha into all kinds of twisted versions of herself. I had a run where she ended up with a smooth thick futa shaft between her legs, and it completely changed how scenes played out. Suddenly she is the one pulling out her cock in a dark alley, forcing a cocky street punk to his knees and using his mouth until he gags, then deciding if she rewards him with a sticky creampie inside or just all over his face. Another time I went the opposite direction and let the city break her. She got dragged into this spiral with a group of monster girls and rough, smug black gangsters who pass her around in a derelict warehouse like she is public property. There is this one scene where she is standing naked on a loading dock in the rain, collar on her neck, one guy fucking her ass while another uses her mouth and a third is rubbing her swollen belly because, yeah, she is already pregnant from an earlier “negotiation” that went very off script. She tries to keep talking in-character about “peace between factions” while they just laugh and slap her tits until she shuts up and moans.

The corruption creeps in little by little. At the start she still gets shy when someone grabs her ass on the subway, pulls her skirt down, looks annoyed. Later she is riding that same train with no panties, sitting across from some nervous virgin office boy, spreading her legs a tiny bit wider each stop, watching him sweat. You can choose for her to drag him into a public restroom and ruin him for normal sex forever, jerking him off and then guiding his cock inside while she whispers that he belongs to her now, or you can ignore him and go meet your cuckold contact instead. That guy is married to this Amazon-tier woman with huge tits and a big black bull on the side, and your “job” is to keep the drama controlled. Which in practice turned into Samantha fucking the wife on the couch, licking her pussy while the bull rails her from behind, and the poor husband just sits in the corner stroking his worthless little dick. The game is full of this kind of tangled mess. You think it is just a life sim with calendars and stats, then suddenly you are on a rooftop at night, drunk on power, making a captured troublemaker kiss your boots before you jerk him off with them and push him over the edge of his old life. Romantic routes exist too, buried under all the filth. I accidentally made Samantha fall in love with a girl she was supposed to blackmail. They end up in a cheap motel, kissing shyly at first, then rubbing against each other until they both cum, no pressure, no money, no gang watching. It was almost sweet, which somehow made all the gangbangs, footjobs under bar tables, public groping in neon-lit clubs, BWC-driven netorare drama and messy creampies feel even dirtier by contrast. The city keeps asking her one question: how much of yourself are you willing to sell to keep fixing everyone else’s problems, and how much are you secretly enjoying that sale.

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.

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.