I don't play many visual novels, but I've played enough to know that Of The Devil is hot. Hot like the sizzle of rain through a neon signboard as a dull-eyed redhead walks into a cyberpunk police station at 3am and starts throwing around Chandlerisms like she's boiling an egg - and you're the egg. "Information's like cash in my line of work," says the dame, who is a freelance lawyer called Morgan. "You've got to spend it to make it." She sizes up the holographic front desk, with its sprinkling of things to OBSERVE. "Let's see if I can't poke around and shake some change loose."
If you hate purpulp detective fiction you may have already clicked away, in which case: up yours, Jerky McJerkface, I never liked you anyway. If you're still here, you may be relieved to learn that Of The Devil is capable of taking the piss out of itself, though this is far from parody. For example, one of the first objects you can OBSERVE is a datapad containing a corporate press release which Morgan - whose opening narration muses upon a "slight blunting of the night's ambience, emphasis on the slight" - dismisses as "flowery". One of the first things you can have her do is forget her own date of birth.
The more indulgent noir flourishes also dissipate as you push on with Morgan's task, which is to defend a guy who has seemingly been caught bang to rights for murdering his girlfriend. You interview a couple of classically mismatched detectives - a lanky whimsical oldster and a snarling young gun with an eyepatch. You use your phone's AR functionality to comb a hot pink projection of the crime scene. The near-future setting takes shape in a glittery wash of allusions to experimental androids and surveillance and unjust laws. The dialogue becomes almost steely.
As you talk and probe and deduce, filling out your phone's casefiles, you earn casino chips which you'll eventually play in interrogation sequences that resemble high-octane collectible card games. Yes, that line about information
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