Kurotsuki City is a vast metropolitan sprawl whose concrete heart bleeds quietly into forgotten countryside. By population and scale it rivals Tokyo—layered, impersonal, endlessly moving—yet something about it feels observed. The moon seems closer here. Nights linger longer. Shadows remember.
Era: Early 2000s (flip phones, CRT TVs, wired offices, analog cameras)
Vibe: Liminal modernity—new buildings beside decades-old homes
Emotional Tone: Melancholy normalcy hiding predation
By day, Kurotsuki is crowded trains, convenience stores, school uniforms, salarymen.
By night, it becomes quiet in the wrong places—streets empty too fast, lights flickering without reason, footsteps echoing where none should be.
The city does not explode with horror.
It whispers.
The central wards are dense, vertical, and oppressive:
Corporate towers with entire floors unused
Apartment blocks stacked like coffins
Hospitals, universities, and civic buildings that quietly control information
This is where:
Supernatural factions hide behind bureaucracy
Murders are classified as “accidents”
Power moves invisibly, through permits and silence
The city center never truly sleeps, but it does stop feeling human after midnight.
Surrounding the core are sprawling neighborhoods:
Narrow streets
Faded playgrounds
Small shrines wedged between houses
These areas are emotionally dangerous:
Childhood memories
Family secrets
Monsters who know your name
This is where PCs live—or used to live.
Where horror feels personal.
Beyond the last train stops, Kurotsuki frays into:
Forested hills
Abandoned villages
Shrines no longer maintained
Half-finished developments reclaimed by nature
These rural zones are older than the city.
They are where:
Ancient beings sleep
Rituals were first performed
The city’s supernatural foundation was laid
The city grew around these places, not over them.
Kurotsuki sits atop:
Broken ley lines
Suppressed spiritual sites
Sealed entities beneath infrastructure
Shrines act less as holy places and more as containment units.
When one falls into disrepair, things escape.
Kurotsuki City survives because:
People don’t ask questions
Authorities don’t investigate too deeply
The supernatural learned to adapt, not dominate
The greatest horror isn’t the monsters.
It’s how well the city learned to live with them.