The round continued, each man playing or discarding their cards.
The two men who had been so quick to belittle Ray kept shooting glances at him, they were waiting for him to falter.
The man in the white shirt played with quiet focus, occasionally looking at others while ignoring the bicker of other two.
As the rounds progressed and more cards were dealt, it became clear that luck wasn't on everyone's side.
The man with the pencil moustache cursed under his breath as he was forced to discard useful cards.
The man with black glasses, despite his initial arrogance, was starting to look flustered, his earlier confidence wavering.
Ray, meanwhile, played cautiously, observing while also found himself in a losing end. He wasn't making rapid progress, but he wasn't making any costly mistakes either.
Finally, after what felt like an eternity, the man in the white shirt laid down his final card, a King of hearts, completing his thirteenth stack.
