The door creaked and trembled as it opened, letting in a fresh gust of air and revealing a sight none of them had expected.

The whole group fell silent, stunned, staring at the hallway in front of them. Gone were the rough cave walls and natural surroundings; instead, the walls were covered with polished stone, gleaming with a nearly metallic finish.

Everything seemed crafted with perfect precision, as if someone highly skilled had built it.

“What the hell…?” muttered one of the gatherers, unable to contain his surprise.

Another noticed the lights—no ordinary torches but gentle light sources with flames that never went out.

“Who could’ve made this?” someone asked out loud.

“It’s strange,” a woman in the group remarked, examining the carefully crafted ceiling. “This couldn’t be naturally inside a cave.”

‘Obviously! Could you be any more obvious?’ Leonar thought, feeling a bit annoyed.

The first murmurs of amazement had just started when someone in the group made a comment:

“It’s common to find intelligent civilizations inside dungeons. There are cases of cities built by elves… or dwarves.”

Mention of dwarves sparked a little debate.

“Do you really think there could be dwarves here?” asked a tall man, skeptical.

“Why not?” replied the other. “It’s more likely dwarves built this than elves. Elves usually go for natural environments, not something so… structured.”

The woman cut in, a bit nervously, “Do you think they’ll be friendly? I mean… if we find anyone.”

“And how are we even supposed to talk to them if we don’t know if they can understand us?” added another, pessimistically.

The leader, who’d been listening in silence, raised a hand to calm the discussion.

“Come on, arguing isn’t going to get us anywhere. There’s only one way to find out who or what built this: we move forward.”

Leonar was still immersed in the debate when he felt a pat on his shoulder. It was Damian, who stood beside him with a mix of enthusiasm and curiosity on his face.

“So, what do you make of all this, Leonar?” he asked, grinning slyly.

You could be reading stolen content. Head to the original site for the genuine story.

Leonar sighed, shrugging.

“I just want to get out of here.”

Damian laughed and gave him a friendly punch on the arm.

“Oh, come on! Where’s your sense of adventure? Doesn’t all of this spark a bit of curiosity?”

‘Obviously, I’m curious, but curiosity killed the cat, damn it. We should just turn back…’ Leonar thought.

They all moved down the hallway, and the more they walked, the more details they noticed enriching the place. Finally, the path narrowed, leading to a much smaller door—a peculiar construction that caught everyone’s attention.

“Could we really be in a dwarf city?” murmured a woman in the group, examining the door. “It’s… too low.”

Leonar turned to Damian and whispered, “Do you often run into these other races? Are they usually friendly?”

Damian chuckled, amused.

“I wouldn’t know much. To be honest, this is the first time I’m in a situation like this.”

The leader tried to open the door, and with no response, they cautiously pushed it open, stepping into the room beyond.

The first person to cross the threshold froze, his eyes widening.

“What’s wrong?” someone asked from behind, alarmed.

The man turned back to the group, his voice thick with disbelief.

“There are monsters in there!”

His words caused an immediate reaction. Leonar felt his heart race as the group adopted defensive stances. But before they could respond, a deep male voice echoed from within.

“Oh! It seems we have unexpected visitors. New players!”

The hunter at the door stepped back to rejoin the others, while those with weapons raised them, tense and ready for anything. But in the doorway appeared, to everyone’s surprise, a goblin dressed elegantly, with a well-tailored suit, tie, and shoes that shone as brightly as the polished stones in the hallway.

‘It’s yellow… damn it,’ thought Leonar upon seeing him.

The leader, realizing someone was about to fire, raised a hand to signal calm.

“Wait! Lower your weapons.”

Everyone stared at the goblin, who, noticing the looks, straightened and gave them a smile exuding an odd mix of confidence and friendliness.

“Did I say something wrong? Of course, I know how to speak, and quite well, actually! Although I must say, of all the languages I’ve learned, human is one of the most tiresome. The variations make me dizzy,” remarked the goblin, bowing slightly. “But I suppose it’s a relief your dialect isn’t that complicated.”

Leonar gaped at him. He had never in his life seen such… a refined goblin. The creature made a friendly gesture and continued speaking with an enthusiastic tone.

“Well, well, don’t just stand there. My companions and I would be delighted to sponsor you… so you can try out our machines.”

The gatherers exchanged confused glances, a mix of curiosity and doubt crossing their faces.

“Machines? What kind of machines?” asked the woman, while another murmured, “Sponsor us? For what?”

The goblin let out a chuckle, clearly enjoying their bewilderment.

“Oh, I believe you call it… ‘casino,’ right? Yes, yes, I think that’s the human word for a place where you wager money.”

The word “casino” only deepened their confusion, and several exchanged looks of astonishment and uncertainty.

“But… we don’t have any money,” said a gatherer, scratching his head. “How are we supposed to bet?”

The goblin grinned, showing small, sharp teeth.

“Oh, didn’t you hear me before? We’ll sponsor you. So you can play.”

Leonar blinked, still in disbelief, as the others tried to process the offer.

The situation was surreal, and the goblin’s grin did nothing to ease the sense of disorientation.

Amid the silence that followed, Leonar found himself repeating in his mind:

‘Do they seriously have a casino down here?’

Slowly, a smile began to creep across Leonar’s lips.