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?

You spawn in this fancy New York law firm that looks like LinkedIn and Pornhub had a weird baby, and somehow you bullshitted your way into a lawyer job even though you’re basically just a smooth-talking criminal with a good memory. Office is full of people who look like they charge 900 dollars per hour just to breathe near a printer. Everyone is faking something. Degrees, morals, loyalty, orgasms, all of it. Your boss is this shark attorney who feels like he sniffs bullshit for breakfast, and he knows you’re not legit, which is kinda hot and terrifying at same time. That tension rides over every scene. One second you’re talking about contracts and hostile takeovers, next second you’re pinning a coworker with a ridiculous ass against the glass wall of a conference room while half the city skyline reflects in it like some HBO show went off the rails. The game loves that vibe where you’re half one wrong move from prison, half one wrong word from getting her panties on your office floor.

The lewd stuff hits strongest when it leans into that power play thing. Like, there’s this early moment where a big-titted coworker starts quizzing you about a case, not because she cares about justice or whatever, but because she suspects you’re a fraud and wants to see you squirm. Dialogue gets tight, she pushes, you bluff, she leans over the desk so her blouse struggles for its life, and you can practically feel your character thinking with his dick and not his brain. If you play it right, it flips from interrogation to flirting to straight-up “close the door, take off your tie, I’m bored of billing hours” energy. The sex scenes go hard on body language: her ass popping out of that pencil skirt, lipstick smeared on your collar, your hand on her hips like you’re negotiating a contract with her curves instead of her client. At some point I forgot half the legal terms and just clicked whatever kept her moaning. Funny thing, though, while the erotic vibe is top tier, pacing sometimes feels like ordering from Uber Eats and getting your dessert first, then the napkin, then the actual food. One scene takes forever teasing with office banter and lingering camera angles, then suddenly plot twist, criminal past pops back in like “hey bro, remember the drug deal?” and everything gets tense again while you still got metaphorical cum brain. The mix of secret identity, high-end law office bullshit, and all these gorgeous coworkers with big asses squeezed into business attire is lowkey cracked though. You jump from serious courtroom strategy to “how hard can I fuck her on this desk without anyone hearing through the walls” in two clicks. I kept alt-tabbing between this and Discord, trying to explain why I was sweating over a fake merger agreement. Honestly, the story around lying your way up the firm ladder while trying not to get caught is almost too good for a porn game, which is funny, because sometimes the sex scenes come in so fast they chop the tension you were enjoying. But then an angle hits where her tits bounce just right in that bra that clearly violates HR policy, and suddenly yeah, whatever, bring on the next deposition with benefits.

Monet feels like somebody took a regular city, squeezed out all the warmth, and replaced it with glass, chrome and secrets. IRYS throws you in there like you just woke up from a dream you half remember, wearing a cheap suit and an ID badge that says you belong to Deimos. You start as this regular office guy, doing spreadsheets, watching useless meetings on Zoom while pretending to listen, getting coffee that tastes like it was filtered through somebody’s sadness. On the surface it’s that boring corporate life. Then you start noticing small weird things. People know things about you that you never told them. A coworker remembers a night you “spent together” that you’re pretty damn sure never happened. Your boss praises you for a project you have no memory of, and in the same breath hints that you owe him more than just good performance. That’s when the game starts to crawl under your skin a little.

The horny part doesn’t show up like a hentai pop-up. It slips into the routine. You’re in a late-night office review, just you and this colleague with big soft tits almost falling out of her blouse, blue light from the monitor on her skin, both of you talking about quarterly targets like robots. Then there’s a line of dialogue that feels too intimate. She leans in too close. Her hand stays too long on your shoulder. One click and you push her away and keep pretending to be a good boy. Another click and you grab her wrist, pull her into your lap, and suddenly your boring Excel sheet is sharing space with her moans and the sound of your cock sliding into her on the boss’s fancy ergonomic chair. IRYS is like that a lot. It gives you these “professional” masks and waits for you to peel them off. Sex scenes are very physical, animated just enough that when you’re fucking her against the office window or bending her over a lab table, you feel every thrust. Sometimes you are gentle, slow, like she is something you want to protect from this fucked up city. Other times the corruption hits and you use her, hand on her throat, filling her raw and hard while she begs you not to stop, even when the guilt dialogue kicks in afterward and makes you question if those feelings are yours or some Deimos script injected into your brain.

What really got me was how the romance and the sci-fi mess bleed into each other. There is this one scene where you wake up in your small apartment, naked, next to a coworker you definitely did not take home. Her hair is messy, thighs still glistening, your cum leaking out of her, and she looks at you like you have been lovers for months. You check your phone and there are whole chat logs, selfies, dirty pics, little heart emojis, like a full relationship that someone speedran while you were asleep. It feels like the universe glitched and rewrote your fate. As somebody who actually believes in destiny, that hit weird. You start asking: did I really fall for her before and just forgot, or was this romance manufactured in some secret Deimos experiment so they can pull my strings better? Later, when you take her in the back of the office, pressed against a server rack humming with data, her legs wrapped around your waist while you fuck her deep and she whispers that you were “always meant for each other”, you can’t even tell if that’s sweet or just another line of code. The game loves putting you in those moments. You climax inside her during some illegal lab test, alarms faint in the background, and instead of simple post-nut clarity you get this strange dream flash of another timeline where you never joined Deimos and she never existed. IRYS keeps poking: is your dick leading you, or is the company guiding your dick so it can own your heart and your guilt at the same time. I kinda hate that it works so well. I also kinda love it. I’m confused. It fits the city.