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... nds, clouds turning overcast, the sky above dismal with dreary clouds, blanketing everything in a grey haze. The biting cold wind penetrated an underground gambling den, producing a rumbling sound, as if ghosts were sobbing.
This underground gambling den was very concealed.
From the outside, it looked like a warehouse, with half-closed rusting iron doors allowing a sliver of dim yellow light to escape, frequented by a few young people who resembled the unemployed.
Every s ...
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