“Niche Festum! The best niche of Umbra.” He laughed like a hyena. “The name says it all: it’s a great party. If you want alcohol, you’ll find it whenever you want. Alcohol and other substances that will raise you up to heaven as fast as it would sink you in fear and hatred that will force you to crawl into the dark corners of the sewers and stay there twisted. But everything has a price, right? For those who are starting in the underworld, it is the ideal niche because there are no obligations; you just have to surrender to pleasure.” He licked his lips.
He made another gesture with his arm in the air, and the symbol on the screen changed. In indigo against the black background emerged: