At dusk, Guest hurried along a road crowded with a diverse mix of races.

The destination should be just a bit further, but will I make it before the sun sets completely? Kicking off the ground as if to shake off growing anxiety, the sight of a magnificent city finally burst into view under a sky stained madder red.

Even from a distance, the glow of magic lamps reminiscent of a theme park scorched the night sky. The main gate of the city, surrounded by high walls, was exquisitely decorated, and the cityscape peeking through the gaps was as beautiful as a painting.

But there was no time to soak in the view. As the sun dipped, the heavy gates began to slowly close.

Guest slid through the gap with all their might. Beside the gate, despite it being closing time, eerily smiling demons stood by, nonchalantly processing entry screenings.

Welcome to Doom Dice

With a racing heart, Guest received the city's special ID and stepped inside.

...I made it, somehow.

Catching their breath and looking around, the central street was lined with the Demon Realm's finest luxury shops, and dazzling magic lamps painted over the veil of night. That famous boutique was a place I'd dreamed of entering just once, but finding a place to sleep for the night had to come first.

Suddenly, a narrow path where the light didn't reach caught my eye.

Stepping into that path between the shops, the atmosphere changed drastically from the glamorous main street. The crowds thinned, and a slum of crumbling walls and men with hollow eyes stretched out endlessly.

So this is the "darkness" of this city...

Checking other side streets revealed similar misery. I thought this was a tolerant place that accepted all races, rare for a demon city, but the disparity just one step off the main street was staggering.

With a heavy heart, I returned to the central street and continued walking. At the end of the road, the city's symbol—a massive casino and its adjacent tower hotel—towered over everything, radiating a blinding light.

It was then, as Guest stood dazed by the sheer contrast with the slums.

I turn toward a clear voice that seems to gently stroke my eardrums. There stands a red-haired man in a flawless pitch-black suit, wearing a smile at a perfect angle.

A single pamphlet rises soundlessly from his hand and, guided by an invisible hand, comes to a dead stop right in front of Guest.