Gift from the leader

On the Earth, in some broken place in the middle of wastelands. A man was playing a card game with four other people, while harsh-slightly radioactive desert winds blew around them. They were perched on the hull of a small spaceship, with the hull fully open to the harsh wasteland, facing off the fury of radioactive sand with broad shoulders.

But despite dry waves of wind crashing across them, neither the man with black hair nor the other four people who were affected by it. It was like the harsh wind was non-existent to them, including harmful radiation. They paid no attention to it while focusing seriously on their game. 

The wind was getting slowly stronger like getting angry at their slight but still, it was unable to disrupt their game, feeble cards made of paper were suddenly weighing so much that harsh winds were unable to blow them away.