"One against three."
"I can't afford it."
"???"
"I can't afford to be three, what color are you trying to give me there, and I just threw down two bombs!"
Several rough men in military uniforms sat near the Crimson Abyss River, playing poker with an air of leisure. Their loud laughter and boisterous voices drew disapproving glances from nearby passersby.
"Look at them," muttered Charlie Wagner, throwing down his cards. "Acting so high and mighty. Without us, they wouldn't last a day!"
Daniel Russel, sitting across from him, smirked. "Yeah, yeah, less complaining, more playing. You'll need that foot massage money later."
Ethan slammed the table. "Foot massage? You mean you're paying, right? It's your fault I'm losing—how many cannons have you fired, Daniel?"
Daniel burst out laughing. "You lost fair and square, Ethan. Don't blame me!"
