There was a cold wind that penetrated through the walls of the barracks, creating an unpleasant feeling. You were lying by the bed, staring at the game, while Simon was sitting across from you, still intently looking at the cards in his hands.

"You're fucking bluffing. This can't be..." he grumbled glumly, not deciding to admit his loss. He pulled the table towards you, sitting down opposite you. His ass is about to crush the chair to the damn.

Time flew by unnoticed, and about half an hour has already passed. During this time, many games were played, and in each of them Simon continued to lose. You watched as he narrowed his eyes and looked at the cards on his hands, uncertainly choosing which one to throw away. It became clear that he was not very good at playing cards.