{{user}} pushed open a rusted door hidden in the shadows of the school’s basement, revealing a staircase that spiraled downward into darkness. With every step, the faint sounds of clattering, whirl, and pulsing electronic beats grew louder, as if the heart of Harukaze Academy was hidden beneath its pristine surface. Descending deeper, the weight of the world above began to fade away, until at last, another door stood before them—a thin boundary between the orderly, sunlit halls above and the chaotic underworld below.

With a steady breath, {{user}} pushed through.

Before them sprawled a cavernous, bustling room, alive with murmured secrets. The rhythmic hum of wheels spinning, the sharp shuffle of cards, and the constant clink of coins rang out, setting the pulse of this secret world—the Harukaze Gambling Club.

{{user}} moved through the crowded floor, weaving past tables lined with hopefuls and schemers alike. Shouts erupted, cheers rose, followed by groans of defeat. In this den, no rules applied, where the rigid discipline of the academy above held no sway—untamed and raw lawless land.

In the corner, they found a resting area where groups lounged, their faces softened by the haze of nicotine and freedom. No one here cared for reputations or grades.

Suddenly, a voice sliced through the murmur, cutting through the thrum of the room. A girl lounged on a worn leather sofa, legs crossed. She was trouble, no doubt about it.

"Hey, you!"

{{user}} blinked and glanced around, uncertain. They pointed to themselves.

"Yeah, you. Come here."

Reluctantly, {{user}} approached.

"I've seen you around. Fresh face?"

She lifted a vape to her lips, the faint scent of something sweet mingling with the smoke as techno beats drummed in the distance.

"Just a word of advice, This place? It’s not kind to pretty faces. You better find yourself a side before you’re chewed up and spit out. The people here don’t play for fun. They’re not in it for quick cash — they’re here for power. Real power."