Man, this game threw me off right from the start. I opened it thinking it’d just be another messy parody with lazy jokes and pixel boobs, but nah, it’s got this weirdly hypnotic rhythm to it. Like, you’re Morty but not Morty - more like some version of him that’s seen too much hentai at 4 AM and still tries to act chill about it. The writing bounces between awkward teen panic and total degenerate confidence, which somehow works. One minute he’s nervously mumbling about interdimensional nonsense, next he's elbow-deep in something that probably violates a few universal laws. And god, the voice lines - half sound like a bad improv skit on Discord, half like someone’s actual bedroom mic confession. It shouldn’t be hot, but it kind of is.

There’s this one scene - can’t even call it a scene, more like a fever dream - where he’s stuck between two portals, both dripping with fluorescent slime, and you’re given this choice that makes zero sense but also feels like the most important decision you’ll ever make. That’s what this whole thing does: makes absurdity feel spiritual. The pacing is off, like purposefully off, dragging moments until you’re uncomfortable enough to laugh or maybe keep clicking because the animations start looping smoother the longer you stare. The control scheme is nothing fancy but you won’t care, because somehow the dialogues keep pushing into taboo, stepping over lines like they’re suggestions, and then circling back into weird emotional vulnerability that shouldn’t land but totally does.

I swear the backgrounds change depending on how bad you feel for laughing during the dark parts. Could be my imagination or just bad memory, can’t tell. The “Rick” version here is unhinged even by internet standards, giving these lectures that start about time travel and end in humiliation kinks. And the “Summer” side stuff - let’s just say it redefines uncomfortable curiosity. I tried alt-tabbing to Spotify halfway through a scene and forgot what song I was even playing. That’s how this game eats time and dignity together, one click at a time.

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.

It’s weird how a game can make your stomach twist like that - like jealousy and curiosity are kissing behind your ribs. Mina’s messages feel too real, her little hearts and half-sincere emojis landing harder than they should. You’re not just reading text bubbles; you’re kinda reading your own reflection, that insecure part that wants to check her phone when she’s in the shower. It’s not even about trust. It’s about the thrill of maybe finding something you shouldn’t. The game knows that. It plays you more than you play it. I kept thinking I’d stay calm, but then some random producer sent her a photo at midnight, and I swear I felt my pulse in my teeth.

There’s this moment - she sends a selfie that’s almost innocent. Almost. You can tell she’s not alone, though the frame pretends she is. That’s when I realized the point isn’t to “win” her back. The point’s to feel that sting, to let it crawl under your skin until it burns. The choices don’t really matter, or maybe they do, but the game’s so good at pretending they don’t that you start second-guessing your own reactions. I hated that. And loved it. Like when you know you’re being teased but you lean into it anyway. The music’s soft, too clean for what’s happening on-screen - it’s like watching a slow breakup inside a perfume ad.

I wish Mina’s typing bubbles didn’t take so long to appear. That wait feels cruel. But maybe that’s the best part. You stare, waiting, wondering what she’s doing while you wait. Sometimes I thought I wanted more pictures, more explicit proof, but when the game actually gives you something close to that, it’s worse. You want to look away, but you don’t. That’s the whole trick - it makes you complicit. It’s not about sex, not really. It’s about wanting to control what you can’t. And maybe that’s the dirtiest thing of all.

This one feels like opening a quiet married life and finding a hidden door behind the closet, the kind of door you should not touch if you want to stay “good”. You start as this regular wife, soft and a bit shy, the type who believes in rings and forever. She has a husband, a routine, nothing crazy. Then tiny things begin to push her. A look from a stranger lingers one second too long. A hand stays on her waist when it should have let go. She tells herself it is nothing, but you already feel how thin that word “nothing” is. Every choice is like sliding one more button open, not just clothes, but the whole soul.

What makes it hit different is how slow the poison moves. The first time she lets another man touch her hand, it feels almost innocent, like “oh, he is just being friendly,” while you know he is already undressing her in his head. When she wraps her fingers around him under the table and pretends she is just reaching for her phone, it is so wrong that it burns, but also strangely sweet, like cheap wine that makes you dizzy too fast. The game loves that line between “I should stop” and “just a little more”. She gives a blowjob in the back of a car and spends the ride home wiping her lips and rehearsing what lie to tell her husband, and you watch that guilt mix with this wild new pleasure that she did not even know she could feel. That first time she lets someone slide inside her, not her husband, there is no dramatic music, just messy breathing, a bed that is not hers, and the heavy thought that some doors do not close again. You see her texts, the late-night chats, the way she pretends to be tired when her husband wants sex because she already had her cunt filled earlier by someone else. She still says she loves him, and in a sick way, you believe her.

I kept thinking about fate while playing, like maybe she was never meant to stay loyal, maybe her “destiny” is to become this hotwife that every man uses in secret. The corruption is not magic, it feels like real life, like all those stories you read on Reddit at work when you should be doing spreadsheets. Each scene pushes her moral line a bit further until the word “cheating” almost loses meaning and becomes just “Tuesday”. You can let her fight it or lean into it, but the gravity always pulls her toward darker stuff: letting another guy cum in her and then going home to ride her husband, pretending she is tight only for him, when you know she is still dripping from before. Oral turns from something she does for love into something she does because she craves the taste, any dick, any time. Handjobs in places she should not even be aroused, quick vaginal fucks in bathrooms, the kind of secret filth that would destroy a marriage in one second if found. I liked how sometimes scenes feel almost romantic with the wrong man, like her heart is cheating too, not just her body, and sometimes it is just raw, ugly lust with no feelings at all. And yeah, part of me wanted her to stop and be a good wife again, but another part already accepted that the good wife died the moment she smiled back at temptation.