Paint The Town Red Floating Underworld

It is 1867. The emperor has succumbed to smallpox, and the cholera epidemic is worsening. Black ships, their bellies full of gunpowder, loom menacing and cold off the coast of Edo. New, revolutionary political ideas are being developed and spread with the brush, the sword and the cannon as their ambassadors. In the courts and castles, the future of Japan as a country is being decided. In the farms and workshops, life goes on as usual. Meanwhile, in the gambling dens and brothels, in the ditches and post stations, in the theatres and performance halls, a different kind of revolution is brewing, and a different kind of court is held every night - a party to change the world, and perhaps even let the Dead crown their own empress.

Is it any wonder, with the future of the country so uncertain, the soul of the nation in dispute, that Edo would become such a desirable locale for the lurkers of the night? Everyone wants to be where the action’s at, everyone wants a say in how things are run and everyone needs some way to let loose, free from the harsh and strict judgement of a society still stuck in its ways. And nobody can satisfy those far-reaching ambitions and unspeakable cravings with more brutal efficiency than the Dead of Edo, some of whom have been keeping the party going since long before anyone spoke Japanese.