The match every two minutes continued for a very long time, until most of the sun in the west had sunk behind the mountains, leaving only a glowing red rim, stretching the shadows of the chess pieces across the board.
"Snap!"
Richard placed his piece once again, and Clown swept the board with his gaze, immediately spotting the problem, and declared, "I've lost again, but it doesn't matter, let's go again! I refuse to believe that I can't win a single game." With those words, Clown began to tidy up the board, picking up all the white pieces.
However, Richard voiced his refusal, "No need, Mr. Clown. Even if we play another hundred games, as long as I play the black pieces first, your loss is certain. This has nothing to do with chess skill; it's about mathematics, a calculated certainty."
"Hmm?" Clown stopped picking up the white pieces and looked at Richard, asking, "What do you mean?"
