Osaka Port, Osaka.

It was late into the night, and the eerie path beyond the shimenawa that led into the underworld wasn't the end. Instead, it was connected to the entrance of a lighthouse that was around 20 meters tall.

The sea was calm and still, and the emissaries of the Nipponense Underworld who were on patrol duty were roaming the area in a bored and lackadaisical manner. The room at the top wasn't very large, only roughly 10 meters in size with traditional Nipponese decor and construction. There were countless wooden puppets hanging from strings dangling down from the roof, and as the sea breeze swept past, the wooden puppets clattered together in a bone-chilling symphony, making one feel as if the wooden puppets were turning on their own to stare directly at them.

"I wonder when all of these world leaders are going to leave." An underworld emissary tossed a newspaper onto the table with a bored expression, then stretched lazily as he said, "We can't relax until they leave."

"Indeed." Another underworld emissary was standing beside the window, looking out at the starry night sky with a resigned expression as he smoked a cigarette. "There are far more important ports in our nation, we could easily go 100 years without getting any action here."

All of a sudden, one of the wooden puppets fell onto the ground, and the two underworld emissaries faltered...