About “Undead Girl Murder Farce” in a few words:

“Undead Girl Murder Farce” is an enthralling Japanese novel series penned by Yugo Aosaki. With its captivating narrative set against the backdrop of a magical Europe, readers and viewers accompany Tsugaru Shinuchi in his relentless quest to find Aya Rindo’s body. Alongside Shizuku Hasei, their adventures are fraught with supernatural beings, arcane secrets, and countless mysteries. Since its inception in December 2015, this tale of magic, loyalty, and intrigue has found its way into manga and has most recently been transformed into an anime series gracing screens on Fuji TV’s +Ultra block in 2023.

Meet the characters from Undead Girl Murder Farce

Tsugaru Shinuchi

Tsugaru is that sharp, slightly exhausted-seeming lead who looks like he reads too many old case files in one sitting — brilliant, meticulous, and often five steps ahead of everyone, even when he pretends not to be. He’s polite, a bit theatrical with his gestures (there’s definitely a dramatic hand-flourish thing he does, I swear), but underneath there’s this weirdly soft spot for ruined things and stray animals. He can be cold and clinical one moment and then absurdly sentimental about some broken teacup the next — I don’t know, it’s charming and infuriating. Also, rumor has it he never sleeps but definitely naps dramatically in armchairs.

Sherlock Holmes

Holmes is the iconic, cross-legged brainiac who treats mysteries like personal puzzles to be loved and occasionally tortured — brilliant, impatient, and a little cruel in the “I’ll say what needs saying” way. He’s all razor-sharp observation and violin solos (or maybe he hums terribly off-key? Depends on the day), and he somehow makes being terrifyingly smart look like a hobby. There’s this brittle charm to him, like he’s both wildly aloof and oddly performative — he’ll solve a case, roll his eyes, then smile like it was no big deal. Also, he drinks tea when he’s pretending to be civilized but probably prefers chaos with a splash of lemon.

John H. Watson

Watson is the warm, steady heart in the chaos — loyal to the bone, practical, and secretly the glue that keeps everything from falling apart. He’s the kind of person who writes everything down (sometimes in the margins of sandwiches, apparently) and explains Holmes with that exasperated fondness of someone who’s both friend and long-suffering biographer. He’s brave and medical-brained, but also loves small comforts — home-cooked food, tidy bandages, and the occasional shout when things get absurd. Occasionally he’s more sentimental than he lets on; no, he definitely cries a little at sunsets, I’m sure of it.

James Moriarty

Moriarty is the deliciously dangerous string-puller — equal parts elegant professor and gleeful menace, he smiles like he’s solving a joke that involves everyone else as the punchline. He’s terrifyingly clever, theatrical, and enjoys setting the board up just to knock it down, usually while sipping something ridiculously expensive. There’s this compulsive philosopher vibe to him — he’ll lecture you on chaos while arranging your ruin with a bow, and somehow it’s fascinating and unsettling all at once. Also, he sometimes acts like a gentleman and sometimes like a very polite tornado; mood swings? Maybe.

Shizuku Hasei

Shizuku is the quiet, slightly eerie presence who notices the little things people miss — calm, a little inscrutable, and somehow has the emotional temperature of a well-kept greenhouse (cool but alive). She’s precise and a touch clinical, but there are flashes of surprising softness — like a secret laugh at a joke you didn’t think she heard, or a tiny, off-key whistle in the rain. She can be cryptically logical and then, out of nowhere, weirdly impulsive (you’ll see her do a tiny chaotic thing and you’ll be like “where did that come from?”). Also, she collects weird little trinkets that she claims are ‘for research’ but might actually be souvenirs.

Aya Rindo

Aya is the undead girl and yes, she’s exactly as delightfully unnerving as that sounds — sweet-voiced, oddly cheerful, and carries an air of “don’t ask too many questions unless you want answers that will ruin you” (in the best possible melodramatic way). She bounces between childlike curiosity and ancient, bone-deep knowledge (it’s both endearing and creepy), and she’ll offer you candy and gossip your demise in the same breath. Her movements are sometimes playful, sometimes shockingly deliberate — like a puppet who knows its strings and doesn’t care who’s watching. Also, she loves flowers but hates dirt, which is either adorable or very inconvenient for a corpse, I’m not sure which.