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 There’s the first beach party where everyone’s drunk on cheap caipirinha and outdated reggaeton hits, and you’re squeezed between sweaty bodies, lights, and this girl pressing her ass against you while her boyfriend is literally five meters away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.

There is something a bit fucked about walking into “your” apartment and your first real conversation is with a ghost that wants to blow you. Not in a fun, fluffy hentai way either. The game sets you up as this unlucky guy from the Devos bloodline, and the place already feels wrong before anything actually happens. Lights flicker, those cheap 3D shadows slide over the walls like they know your name, and then, boom, you look in the bathroom mirror and there’s a pale thing behind you that looks half depressed boy, half succubus. It smiles, and you’re thinking “ok, jumpscare?” but no. It kneels. That whole scene is animated with this weird slow hunger, and it’s honestly more uncomfortable than most horror movies on Netflix. In a good way, if you are into that mix of dread and dick worship.

The story pretends to be about solving a family curse, reading notes on your tablet, digging through old messages and voice memos your father left you, trying to understand who started all this paranormal shit. But the game keeps distracting you with horny ghosts and monster girls that do not respect personal space. You open a locked door with this simple puzzle and a ghost girl with empty eyes rushes up to you, sniffs your neck, then quietly asks if she can “taste living seed again.” That escalates fast into you pinned against the wall, her mouth deep on you, gagging and drooling, then suddenly she shifts on top and you are buried inside her while the UI is still pretending you’re investigating clues. At one point a femboi spirit in tattered underwear crawls out from under the bed, wraps your waist with this thin, shaky body, and just sinks down on you, riding in total silence while distant knocking sounds start in the hallway. Your MC is trying to ask “who cursed the Devos line?” while he is balls deep in a ghost that keeps tightening around him like it wants to drag his soul out through his cock. The game does not fade to black, it shows creampies in full detail, cum spilling from ghost holes that are not even supposed to be physically real. And then, after all that, the apartment goes quiet again, and you’re left scrolling through old diary pages on your phone, dripping, trying to pretend this is still about “mystery” and “romance” and not about how many times the dead can milk you before you finally understand why your whole bloodline is cursed.

The first time I logged into this thing, I didn’t even care about the classes or whatever plot it pretends to have - the way the avatars breathe, the tiny tremor in their lips before a kiss, that’s what got me. It’s like the devs poured all their soul into making skin look touchable. There’s this one girl in a half-armored cosplay outfit, silver hair glowing like some digital eclipse, and when she leans close, her breath fogs your screen. Maybe I imagined that, but hell, it felt real. The sci-fi cities behind her hum like they’re alive, something between a nightclub and a dream you shouldn’t be having. The game doesn’t shout about its mechanics, but when you figure out how to sync movement and body sensors, it’s almost too much - like your nerves are being rewritten to crave every vibration.

Sometimes the story pretends to be about mystery - a missing player, a corrupted zone - but nobody’s really fooling anyone. The real puzzle is how long you can last before giving in to pure heat. The VR immersion slips between sweet and filthy faster than your mind can keep up; one moment you’re chatting with a student NPC about history, next she’s on her knees, glasses sliding down, eyes wide like she’s learning anatomy for the first time. There’s group stuff too, awkward at first until it’s not. Someone mentioned modders replaced the background drones with moaning echoes; I laughed until it happened in my session and I swear it made everything feel more chaotic and alive. The music, though? Too clean. Needs something grittier, maybe a heartbeat instead of these sterile synths.

I still can’t get over the fact that clothing physics act like they’ve got personalities - skirts that refuse to stay where they should, latex that remembers your touch. You can taste the future here, but it’s messy and dripping and maybe a bit too honest. Every time I log out, reality feels thinner, like a veil that won’t settle right.

Rush description during subway, sorry if my english go weird.

This one throws you right into that quiet, uncomfortable space at home after a funeral, but then slowly turns it into something way more fucked up and horny than it has any right to be. You’re Saigo, the older brother, stuck in a tiny apartment with Hana who used to be lively, now she’s like a doll that talks. Her face is empty, eyes kinda dead, but she still says pervy stuff with flat voice and it messes with your head. Game doesn’t even pretend to be normal romance for long. It starts with “care,” then it becomes “how far can I push my sister while telling myself it’s therapy.”

There’s no choices, it just moves, one scene into another, and you just sit there on your phone like an idiot on the bus watching your own character cross line after line. It starts with harmless touching, “checking her temperature” while she lies on the bed in her school uniform, shirt just a bit open, bra visible. You tell yourself it’s nothing, but then your hand stays too long on her chest and the text says her nipple is hard under the fabric. She doesn’t react, no blush, no cute anime squeal. Just “Is this necessary, onii-chan?” in that blank expression, and it’s somehow nastier than normal moaning. Later she’s in her classroom, sitting by the window, and you get a flashback of when you first noticed her tits got huge in middle school. That scene lingers way too long on how her blouse buttons are fighting for their life. Four screens of text only about the way the fabric hugs her big ass when she leans forward. I actually missed my stop once because of that stupid button tension.

The sex escalates like a slow boil. There’s this one scene in the bathroom where she’s brushing her teeth and you come in behind her, and the camera just stays on the foam around her lips while she stares at her reflection. You touch her hips, and she doesn’t move away, and somehow that’s hotter than if she jumped on you. When you finally get her to wrap those soft hands around your dick, she keeps this weird monotone commentary like “The hardness is increasing” while pumping you, no emotion, drool shining on her chin. The first blowjob is wild because she goes from robotic to full ahegao in about three lines, tongue out, eyes rolled, tears at the corners, like her brain just flipped a switch. You cum on her face and she calmly asks if this is part of the “treatment plan.” That line killed me and turned me on at same time. And the creampie scenes later, on her bed with the old photo of your dead mom on the nightstand looking right at you, are just wrong in the exactly right way. She wraps her legs around you, huge boobs bouncing, pussy soaking, and only then you notice at the very bottom of the screen there’s a tiny text note about her still wearing her school socks. I don’t know why that detail hit harder than the whole harem side thing with the other girls at school, including that scene where you eat her out behind the gym while your so-called “girlfriend” is waiting on LINE. The cheating angle barely gets called out, which somehow makes it filthier. It’s like the game assumes you already accepted you’re trash, so it doesn’t bother to judge you. Or maybe it does and I just pretended not to see it.