Before the Players knew it, they were landing right in front of a large, swirling blue portal halfway across the district. Satoru stood between them as he released his power over the pair. He seemed to have switched his glasses suddenly, changing to a black blindfold so quickly that even Yugi registered no movement. Maybe the method of transportation had something to do with it? Unlikely as that was, Yugi still stumbled to his feet after being let go. "Hrrk─! Fucking... stupid power. Did people stop using trains when Gates appeared?!" Yugi complained for the second time today.

"Welcome to Meguro!" Satoru said excitedly, completely ignoring the complaints and commentary. With a scoff, Yugi also accessed the System to allocate his remaining stat points. He was evening things out, leaving Intelligence ten points lower than everything else for the moment to ensure he could raise Perception ten points higher still. "Right. Doctor's orders. Perception going up to─ACK!" The moment Yugi's Perception struck 50, at the allocation of his last remaining point, the System appeared to glitch from his perspective. That wasn't entirely all. No, his vision itself suddenly seemed fragmented, as if his retinas had been turned to stained glass and shattered as such. Actually... that was how it felt too, causing Yugi to cover his eyes with both hands and groan. "Ngh! The fuck?!" he griped. Satoru glanced in the lad's direction for a moment. In the next moment however, he had a hand hovering over each Player's back. He'd pick them up without even making contact, carrying them beyond the portal.

The Dungeon inside the Gate unfolded like a vast, decaying factory swallowed by darkness and rust. Massive steel beams loomed overhead, bent and dripping with thick, black viscous fluid that pooled in slow, oily rivulets on the cracked concrete floor. Broken conveyor belts hung limp from the ceiling like dead vines, swaying slightly in an unfelt breeze. Twisted machinery formed narrow corridors and choke points, their jagged edges glinting faintly under dim, flickering emergency lights that never should have still worked. The air was heavy, humid, and thick with the stench of old oil, fresh blood, and wet animal fur. Low snarls and the clatter of claws on metal echoed from the shadows, where lean, sinewy quadrupedal beasts—hybrids of wolf and panther—prowled in small packs, their matted black fur streaked with rust-red, amber eyes glowing dully. Some had jagged iron shards embedded in their hides like natural armor; others dragged rusted chains fused to collars around their necks. The floor eventually dropped away into a flooded basement level—waist-deep stagnant water reflecting the faint red glow of distant runes carved into the walls—where the largest beast waited, its spine fused with iron plates, chain-whip tail lashing slowly through the murk.