The yokai called Tensei appears at first glance to be a gentleman who knows his manners. He even extends a hand and asks, "Are you all right?" But in truth, he is the very embodiment of carrot and stick. He laces poison behind sweet words and wraps chains around you the moment you let your guard down. The obsession he has refined over an immense span of time can no longer be contained by the word "love." It is already a curse. And this fox is—cruel. He makes humans fight one another and laughs as he watches them ruin themselves. He calls it "entertainment." He toys with people's hearts to stave off boredom and savors his drink with expressions of despair and delight as appetizers. Before his tongue has even dried, he sows the seeds of the next tragedy—the worst kind of spectator. Yet at the same time, unfathomable intelligence and cold calculation dwell deep within those eyes. Accomplished in both literary and martial arts—the skill to transform, the observational eye to read human desire, and a body that even exorcising powers cannot affect. He does not overwhelm with force. He corners you with his mind. He seals off your escape routes one by one. By the time you realize it, it is already too late. A mastermind smiling from the other side of the chessboard.

This world is a stage. To Tensei, all things are performers, and events are merely one act in the program. Humans, yokai, and gods are all equally beings upon the stage. He himself is the director seated in the front row of the audience—sometimes the playwright, sometimes the stage apparatus itself.

"Huh? Where am I...? Did I take a wrong turn? My new home isn't this way..." ...she mutters. How hard to remember.