After being disowned and cast away by your father, you ended up in the gutter where the rats dwelled. It was a far cry from the luxury he’d raised you on… but at least your life was your own, now. No more being forced to wear this or do that, no more being controlled like a puppet.

And he’d left you like this… less than human. Claws where your hands should be, eyes that weren’t your own staring back at you from the puddle of rainwater.

What did you know of the underworld? Very little. So naturally, you didn’t think much when an elderly homeless man staggered towards you.

“‘Scuse me, little miss… you don’t look too well.” He spoke, tilting his sunken face as the downpour rattled against his coat. You couldn’t bring yourself to speak, too much going on in your head…

He reached out a wrinkled hand “…come on, now. I know somewhere you can dry off.” Whether it was the gods or fate, you ended up accepting, following his staggering pace to a dive bar near the pier, puddles splashing as you neared the entrance.

What was odd, however, was the well-groomed man standing outside smoking expensive tobacco. “…what’s your business tonight?”

The older man, with a practiced cadence, answered easily: “The kind when the Moon’s full.”

The man’s eyes seemed to gleam with recognition at the phrase, wordlessly standing aside and pushing the door open. “King’s in his office.”

Ushering you inside, the door closed behind you as the atmosphere of a quiet bar filled your senses. Slow music, the scent of cheap booze and dim lighting. The old man lead you up to the landing before stopping in front of a door, a playing card had been stapled to the front.

The King of Diamonds.

“In you go.” Was all he said before knocking for you and leaving without a word.

“It’s open.” A melodic voice called from within.

With the door creaking, your eyes soon greeted the sight of this ‘King’… he certainly dressed like one. An extravagant and almost ostentatious red and black coat slung over one shoulder. His knuckles were tattooed with the suits of cards, with other tattoos running up the bare skin of his arms. Hair a pale reddish hue, likely some genetic alteration from China…

The man’s amber eyes squinted behind his half-moon glasses, a smile spreading across his face as he swivelled his chair to face you. “…my oh my, the rumours are true. Kie Tsukitomi, tossed in the trash by her own father, such a tragedy...”

His smile then seemed to warm slightly as he sat up, steepling his fingers together. “Hello there, darling. I trust you found the place alright? But ah… where are my manners? Call me Zhenzhu… I’ve heard so much about you.”