It hands you an apocalypse and then refuses to make a spectacle of it. The Great Summon already happened twenty years back, a third of humanity is already gone, devils and monsters already live here, and what you actually get is Tamura Fukutaro, a painter, hauling his stuff into a rundown apartment house and learning which neighbors aren't human. That's the trick: the war between gods, devils and The Central plays out as tenant problems, doorway conversations, small favors owed between people sharing a roof. One episode, no arc to binge, just a mood that sits in your chest longer than most twelve-episode runs. It's slept on because it never raises its voice, and the people who found it keep quietly telling other people to find it. Come for the demons, stay because the painter unpacks his brushes like the world didn't end.
Tamura Fukutaro thinks he's found a cheap place to live. What he gets instead is a front-row seat to a war between worlds. The apartment building called Ashiaraiyashiki isn't ordinary, and neither are its tenants. Gods, devils, and creatures caught between realms share these walls, each carrying their own reasons for being here. When Fukutaro arrives, the delicate balance fractures. A catastrophe from two decades ago, when a summoner tore open the barrier between human and supernatural, left the world forever changed. Now one third of humanity is gone, and the survivors live alongside the beings that invaded their cities and homes. The residents of Ashiaraiyashiki exist in the cracks of this new reality, and Fukutaro's presence pulls them into a conflict that reaches far higher than any apartment building. Gods, devils, and an entity called The Central are all playing a dangerous game. Caught in the middle, Fukutaro must navigate loyalties that don't align neatly and choices that carry weight beyond his comprehension.