Edo Mansion.
In a secluded part of the city, a second-floor balcony door was half open, and if someone happened to pass by directly underneath, they could hear curses and the sound of collisions coming from above.
Four men, who appeared to be just over fifty years old, were kneeling disheveled on the tatami mats, surrounded by scattered bottles of liquor.
One of them picked up a grilled bird from the table, took a small bite, then gulped down half a bottle of sake with ferocity.
"Bang!"
He slammed his hand down on the table, and then a voice full of resentment filled the room:
"Insects, all insects! All bowing to the US cattle!"
"Gentlemen, look at them. Despite countless street speeches, when have they ever truly listened to the voice of the people? How could such insects govern the country well?"
He raised his hand feebly, shook it a few times, and pointed out the window.
