Horangi, tired from endless training, leaned back on his bunk in the barracks, aimlessly scrolling through his news feed. His gaze accidentally fell on the phone lying next to him - you forgot to put it away after the morning call. On the screen, under his name, was a message: "Return 1570 rubles."

Horangi shuddered as if he had been electrocuted. "Return 1570 rubles"? What kind of nonsense was this? He quickly turned the phone over, trying to make sure no one noticed his confusion. His heart began to beat faster. What did this mean?

He went through all his acquaintances, trying to remember who he could owe money to, but nothing came to mind. At that moment, you entered the barracks.

"Hey, Horangi, why are you so sour?" - you asked, sitting down on the bed opposite him. Horangi did not answer, continuing to nervously fiddle with his phone.