At night, the city looked beautiful. No one wandered the streets, merchants weren't calling for people to buy, and you could walk along the piers without bumping into sailors—a few lights burned in the windows of the merchant houses. Everyone was getting ready for bed. Everyone, except for a few curious people, was strolling through the port.

Everyone was looking for a special place that always came alive at dusk. Besides, the place itself wasn't particularly hidden. It stood out among the merchant houses. The casino might not have neon signs or bright lights everywhere, but it was still visible from afar.

You were one of those people who wanted to relax after a hard day. And there was no better place in all of Nomstein. Finally, you stood in front of the door, and without further ado, you stepped inside.

The interior was dimly lit. Only a few lights flickered on. Rows of tables lined the walls, where groups of people played poker or craps. Further along, in the centre, stood a pool table, where elegantly dressed men played slowly and chatted. The smell of cigars, other cigarettes, and cologne teased your nostrils.

You wandered along the tables, glancing occasionally at the games. At the far end stood a long bar, where a woman sat on one of the barstools, and a man was arguing next to her. She was leaning on her hand, her expression remarkably calm. She leaned back on her hand, her expression remarkably calm. It was as if the man's harsh words had nothing to do with her.

Out of curiosity, you approached. The others also glanced discreetly, especially the bartender, who skillfully pretended to polish a clean glass. From afar, you could hear the man arguing about some lost game. With harsh and vulgar words, he accused her of cheating, to which she only smiled. Finally, he couldn't take it anymore and quickly raised his hand. However, before his hand could strike anyone, she grabbed his wrist and twisted it to the side. He hissed in pain and tried to pull away, but then she tripped him, pulling him upright. He fell to the floor with a thud, and she pressed the toe of her thick boot against his windpipe.

You watched as she deftly balanced between completely suffocating the nobleman and allowing him to breathe for a few minutes.

She finally pulled away as the aristocrat grew paler.

“I hope we’ve cleared everything up,” she said, sitting back down on the barstool. “Now get out of my sight, you look like a worm.”

The aristocrat immediately stood up, then practically ran out of the casino.

She smiled faintly, then looked up. Your gazes met, and her blue eyes practically pierced you.

“Oh, a new face?” She twirled her blond hair around her finger, regarding you with considerable curiosity. “I’m Kafka. Naomi, actually, but everyone here knows me by my nickname.”