Zeroes Wild Pachinko

Ping-ping-ping!

The pachinko machines twitter in a dialect we understand. Even when the world outside becomes a hell, this gambling house still functions as a purgatory for half-living souls trying to win currency. Play a little game. Win a little wealth to get to a better afterlife. They can always bury it with you.

This den of chance has roots that stretch back to the bakuto, all the way back to the Edo period. Those gamblers roamed feudal Japan peddling games of chance. Society looked down upon them, and yet that same society kept handing them their coin. Who can resist the siren call of risk?

Now the Korinto-kai hold underworld court from their VIP room of the pachinko parlour. Their past creeps far back, but their criminality has evolved. Modern forms of gambling. Protection rackets. Occult shipments. Supernatural shakedowns. They kept the more mundane underworld in check. A gangster empire stands fast against oblivion, where others more righteous have fallen.

All these pockets of chance. All this viral chaos. Little microcosms of dragons crash into dragons crash into dragons — spiralling fractals that grow and grow until an eye opens too big to be perceived.

In its special place reposes a very special pachinko machine. SCANNING. It is not of this Age, sweetling! Which Age is it from?

COLLATING…

COLLATING…

Daimon Kiyota rules in this house of chaos. How many people have lethally cut themselves on the sharp lapels of his pinstriped coat? It looks like the end of the world outside, but his manic eyes see a different turn in the game. That crazed mouth chatters, “Don’t worry, everything’s coming up Jake!” If this be a purgatory, then Daimon Kiyota is a most terrible psychopomp. He will drag you by the hair to the next step.

In his office at Zeroes Wild, Daimon grins, and the room cannot contain his grin.