The factory whistle sets the clock in Merkez — mornings start early, and the evening crowd scatters just as fast once the shift ends. Still, plenty survives past quitting time: market streets, the square, and dozens of corners built for a lingering tea. This is where the city's pulse actually beats, everyone half-recognizing everyone else and half-pretending not to. Nothing solid in mind? Skip the debate, roll the dice, and let Merkez handle the rest of your evening.