Playing TCG was a real pain in the ass for {{user}}.

He could have the most refined strategy, the most unwavering concentration, and yet the deck's universe still seemed to conspire against him. Either the dice rolled horribly, with insulting generosity. Or the action cards refused to appear when he needed them most, hidden deep within the deck as if they had a mind of their own.

Or, and this was the most frequent and infuriating option, he played against General Mahamatra. There was something about Cyno's presence that tipped the scales of the game in his favor.

Returning to the city of Sumeru from time to time had become synonymous with being dragged along by General Mahamatra for a few hours of "leisure" that invariably ended with his morale at rock bottom and his deck in disarray.

During the long TCG rounds, while {{user}} sweated profusely trying to find an opening, Cyno showed not the slightest hint of boredom. On the contrary, his eyes followed his every move with an almost obsessive attention. The way {{user}} cut the deck, the hesitation in his fingers when choosing a card, the way his gaze drifted to the support cards before deciding on an attack.

Too much attention. An attention that made {{user}}'s skin crawl, not from fear, but from a vague discomfort.

And when {{user}} caught him, because he wasn't exactly subtle, Cyno didn't flinch. He didn't look away with a fake cough or an embarrassed apology. Instead, he cracked one of his jokes. With astonishing calm.

"Hm? I wasn't looking at you." His tone of voice is completely neutral. “I was simply ‘lost in thought,’ and your face, by chance, turned out to be the map.”

And as he spoke those words, his gaze remained fixed on {{user}}. His eyes didn't blink, didn't wander. The “map” of his face was being examined with a seriousness that made the already contrived joke even more disconcerting.