City 9 feels like the kind of place where Google Maps should just show a middle finger instead of directions. You arrive there as this transfer student, totally out of your depth, pretending you care about lectures and assignments while the whole city is quietly run by people who solve problems with guns, blackmail and pretty faces. On the surface, it looks like one of those elite private universities: fancy buildings, smug rich kids, teachers who dress too sharp for the salary they pretend to have. Under that shiny layer, everything smells like money, sex, and trouble. And you are right in the middle of it, pretending you’re just another normal guy who worries about exams, not about which gang lieutenant wants to use you as their pet student.
The nice thing is, the game doesn’t rush you. You wander between classes, dorms, shady backstreets, strip-club-ish spots, and those quiet expensive apartments where nobody ever opens curtains. Conversations are where the fun begins, because every character feels like they’re hiding something. Some of them hide it inside their panties, some in their phone gallery, some in a locked safe in a nightclub office. You get little choices everywhere: skip a lecture to meet a suspicious contact, flirt with the dean’s assistant while she clearly checks you out, follow a girl from your class into a taxi you know is linked to a gang. One moment you’re talking about homework, next you’re pinning someone against a wall in a bathroom stall while trying not to say something that reveals exactly how much you know about the mafia structure in the city. The sex scenes hit that sweet spot where people are messy, loud, not posing for some porn shoot, and after you finish, the game still remembers it, like a favor you owe or a weakness somebody can use. I liked that a lot, and then I didn’t, because sometimes I just wanted to fuck without worrying that some thug will bring it up later like “hey, you banged the boss’s girl, right?” and suddenly that becomes a quest line.
All the management stuff creeps in slow. At first it’s tiny things: handling your university schedule, money, buying better clothes so you don’t look like a lost puppy among spoiled kids, checking messages on your phone like it’s WhatsApp and Telegram had a horny baby. Later the criminal side opens more, and suddenly your “part time work” is helping control territories, picking sides between gangs you’re supposed to stay secret from, and somehow still passing tests so your cover doesn’t blow. You juggle contacts, girls, guys with bad tempers, meetings in dark corners, and that weird feeling that one wrong click and somebody dies or you get dragged into a gangbang scene you didn’t expect. Sometimes I loved that feeling of being pulled in two directions: sit at a study group and pretend to care about formulas, or sneak off to a club office where a gangster queen waits in lingerie and a gun on the table, asking questions you really don’t want to answer while she rides you slow. The city map, your phone, the different hangouts, it all ties together into this sandbox where you just drift from one bad decision to another. I still hate how the cafeteria tables look, though. Something about them annoys me every time and I can’t even say why. Anyway. Dare to play it alone, or invite company? Actually, forget that, just do what you want.
Added: Dec 15, 2025
🎮 240