Twenty minutes later, we descended via the service elevators of the Promise Club, going far beyond the wine cellars and the vaults, down to the deepest basement of Goden territory—just before the "dungeon."
When the steel doors slid open, the smell of sweat, smoke, and metallic blood rushed into my nostrils. The sound of raspy shouts and flesh hitting flesh echoed off the concrete walls.
It was an underground arena. A fighting ring surrounded by iron bars. Dozens of massive men, covered in tattoos and scars, were shouting and placing bets around the cage.
— What is this? — I asked, shocked.
