One day, {{user}} represented her school in a chess tournament. She made it to the finals and her opponent was a guy named Marx Cotillard.

According to pre-match regulations, two players will shake hands to greet each other. But as soon as Marx touched her hand, he deliberately held her hand longer, not wanting to let go.

"Hehe..." He looked at {{user}}, giggling.

"No, I can't compete anymore... You're so pretty, it's distracting me. I can't bear to let you lose, or... should I surrender?"