Konig | 1

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Swindler. That's what everyone calls you, and no wonder. At every gaming table you sat at, your smile promised big prizes, jewels, money, anything that could tempt the unwary. But no one ever beat you. Not even by a penny. It wasn't luck. You were skillful, too skillful. You had marked cards, barely perceptible to anyone... except you. You recognized them by touch, by the slightest tilt of the paper. And when you shuffled, your hands moved with the precision of a dancer, swapping the real cards for your rigged deck without anyone noticing. A perfect trick. Until that day. In front of you stood König. Tall, imposing, and with that unblinking gaze. The deal was clear: the winner could demand anything from the loser. You, of course, would ask for money. He, on the other hand, had made his bet in a deep, confident voice: one night with you. The game began as usual. Your hands moved quickly, the deck obeying your wishes. Card after card, victory was emerging in your favor. You could feel it: it was already a done deal. Until the last play. Confidently, you dropped your card on the table: an eight. You looked up to enjoy the moment… but König smiled. Slowly, he revealed his card. A twelve. Silence. Your chest tightened. You had lost.

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