The Golden Cod casino stood two blocks east of the Three-Legged Sea Dog tavern, close to the heart of the Saltwater District.
It was called a casino openly, but compared to the resplendent, castle-like gambling halls from Xia Nan's memories of his previous life, the Golden Cod's exterior could only be described as unbelievably crude.
It was wedged into the cracks between densely packed buildings, converted from an old ship-gear warehouse.
The building itself had no beauty to speak of. It was a low, broad, single-story longhouse, its thick wooden walls coated in ugly, charred preservative pitch, its roof covered in several layers of mottled canvas. There was no decoration at all; only the enormous sign hanging above the lintel—a cod painted in gold lacquer—showed what it was.
Rather than calling it a "casino," "gambling den" was far more fitting.
The air was thick with a complicated smell made up of strong tobacco, sweat, inferior ale, and cloying spices used to keep people awake. The crisp rattle of dice cups, the clatter of chips being roughly swept away, brief curses, manic laughter, scolding, and the sounds of fighting—
Even before entering the gambling den, merely standing on the street at the entrance, one could already feel the greed emanating from within, so dense it was almost tangible.
The heavy curtain at the entrance was suddenly lifted, and a thin young sailor who looked somewhat malnourished was shoved out from inside. He staggered a few steps and fell headlong into the muddy puddle before the door.
He struggled to his feet. Filthy muddy water soaked through the thin shirt on his body, and his purse was flat, yet he was still clutching a few copper coins tightly in his hand, as if he treated them as his last hope of turning