Ulaanbaatar was an oddity of a city. In terms of populace, it would barely qualify as a large town in some of the more grandiose countries of the world. Compared to the rest of Mongolia, it was a titan that supported fully half of their people. Totalling just over 1.5 million people, it was the result of urban sprawl over several generations. As with everything in the tiny country, the community was close-knit. It wasn't unusual for parents and close friends of the family to set the younger generation up with businesses.
John had taken some time during his stay in Erdenet to get to know Ganzorig. Despite being a grumpy old man – or maybe because of it – he appreciated the company trying to learn about his country. Most people just wanted to drop by and see the sights before leaving again for more 'interesting' places. John had volunteered his assistance during one evening to help repair a malfunctioning washing machine. That is, he had held tools while Ganzorig swore, smashed pipes together and told stories of his family.
After John had endured an uncomfortable ten hours – after the bus broke down for two more than he had been anticipating – on the rickety transport, he had stumbled off the bus into the harsh light of day. Sleep had not been impossible on the midnight run, just extremely difficult. He could be gently drifting off one minute only for an extra lump, bump or dip in the road to send his head rattling around to knock against the window or headrest so worn out that the wooden support was poking through.
Based roughly in the middle of the city, the bus station let him see a few identifying landmarks. After that, it had only taken an extra hour to reach the right part of town. John had spent time in just about every country there was to visit and rarely found the sort of practical goodwill that pointed him in the right direction on the rare occasion that he went down the wrong street or took a poorly chosen turn. Not long after he had arrived in Ulaanbaatar, John arrived at his temporary accommodation for the duration of the stay.
Looking up at the sign on the front of the building, a cheerful smile filled his face while he entered. "Good morning." It was only possible to smile wider. "Do you have a room available?" Feet hastily rocked from the desk as the young man behind the counter tried to turn off the television on the corner of the counter.
"Got a couple spare." Reaching for a ledger under the counter, the man behind the counter was getting unsettled by that smile. "How long were you thinking of staying?" Taking the more positive outlook that maybe it would be a short stay, he was unprepared for when John decided to tell a story.
"Not sure yet. I was in Erdenet recently. Thought it would be for a few days, spent a couple of weeks." That smile was really unsettling. "Found this great place to stay, a place called Otgonbayar." Recognition started to dawn in the eyes looking out from the other side of the counter. "The owner had this great story about how he named it after his nephew when he was born. Even went on to help him set up a place in Ulaanbaatar. Of course, he named it after himself." Adjusting the bag strap over his shoulder, John's smile finally made sense. "Call me John."
"Uncle Ganzorig mentioned you." Flipping through the books, the young man finally returned the smile. "Thanks for helping him find that card. It was a gift from my aunt before she passed away." Without children of their own, the pair had doted on Otgonbayar. His happiest memories included the pair of backup parents. "I've got a room I can set aside for next month. Not the best view but it's got a decent bed and warm water. For what you did for my uncle, I'll even give you the family discount."
"What's that, an extra ten percent?" Smiling to indicate that he was joking, John wasn't going to rob the young man of much needed capital. He had too much integrity for that. "How about you tell me if anyone comes asking for me and we call it even?" Asking for such an arrangement usually indicated that someone was on the run. Otgonbayar stealthily reached under the counter for the bar he kept for emergencies. "Trying to avoid the media." John had noticed the twitch of discomfort. "There're a few Duels coming up in the city and I'm trying to keep a low profile. Knowing that I'm coming might let my opponents figure out strategies to use against me. Works both ways though. If you can tell me who shows up, I can make strategies against them instead." When it was fully explained, it sounded a lot more routine than first appearances.
"Oh. Right." Otgonbayar let out a slow breath. "Room 216." Because his uncle had vouched for John, the young hotel owner was willing to extend the benefit of the doubt. "If you want to know a few good places to eat, I can hook you up. I'm fairly connected around here."
"Otgon," Taking the key in one hand, he unconsciously abbreviated the young man's name down to a more familiar term. "Your uncle was right about you. I bet that you'll be running a string of hotels one day."
"Yeah, right." Looking around at the depleted surroundings, Otgon had no doubts about his place in the world. He may run a decent enough hotel for Mongolia but that didn't mean that he could hold a candle to the more popular parts of the world. "Just waiting for that one rich investor to decide to drop a pile of money on my desk."
"Make sure to ask if there's a spare going." Looking down at his travel-worn clothes, he could see the seams on his shoes were in need of repair. "Know of any good sports shops nearby?" Most people had at least one pair of shoes for formal occasions. Life on the road had taught John that it was possible to get away with a nice pair of sports shoes in the right colours. Cheaper, more comfortable and usually better to have on when events went sideways.
"A couple." Pulling some outdated leaflets from a drawer, he marked some spots with a grubby pencil. "The chain stores can get really expensive if you're not careful. It might be better going to the sort of shops that aren't on this map." John knew the ones. Usually, for members only, most of their stock freshly fallen off the back of a truck.
"I'll keep an eye on my budget." Feeling a buzz come from his pocket, John pulled out his phone. An address had arrived to match the time he already had for that night. "But first, I'll drop my bag in the room and have a nap. It's been a long night." Heading for the stairs, John hoped that Otgon wasn't exaggerating about the bed. Anything softer than a plank of wood was welcome just then. Next time – John decided as he began the slow process of climbing the stairs – he would just wait for the bus.
Approximately ten minutes after he was meant to arrive, John finally turned up at his secret rendezvous in one of the grimier parts of the city. Depleted buildings lined both sides of the dank alleyway. He had anticipated having to investigate each one but rows of garbage bags had been propped against many of them. Only three doorways were unobstructed and just one was freshly disturbed. Walking over, he pounded the thick metal a few times and waited of a response.
It came in the form of the door opening just enough for a stern eye to glare through. "Yeah?" The words came out in such an aggressive tone that they were barely intelligible. "Who're you?"
"John. I'm here for the event." Exactly what event he was meant to be participating in had not been mentioned. Keeping the exact subject unspecified worked well enough for most criminals. Saying that you wanted to attend 'an event' could mean anything from a bachelor party to an underground sex club. John could only hope that the friend of his friend hadn't just directed him to something too shady.
"... You're late." Momentarily closing the door, there was the sound of chains rattling before the hidden figure was able to open it a bit more fully and look both ways down the alley. "Nobody follow you?"
"Of course not." Only John, whoever had told him to be there and anyone that they might have told knew were John was. Practically nobody. "Can I come in now? It's cold out here." Ulaanbaatar – like the rest of Mongolia – existed in often direly cold conditions. It was not a country to avoid taking a jacket to.
"Sure." Edging aside just enough for John to squeeze in, the doorkeep quickly fastened the door against prying eyes. "Come on." Shifting a heavy workbench over to act as a block while he was away, the veritable mountain of muscle lead the way towards a flight of rickety stairs. "Why are you late? Traffic hold you up?"
"I suck at directions." Gingerly testing one of the steps with a cautious foot, John felt it sink uncomfortably low before catching on something. "This place has seen better days." As the pair moved down another few steps, he was able to glimpse a dimly lit room unfolding around them.
"What, were you expecting something more fancy?" Cruel laughter echoed around the space and drew a few eyes. About fifty Duellists from all walks of life were in the spacious room.
"Less. Last place I saw like this had stuff crawling from the walls." At least this underground space had concrete between the Duellists and the dirt. And a few crates to act as tables. Definitely nicer than some places John had seen.
"Standard Duelling rules apply." Limping slightly down the last few stairs to avoid a patch of puke, the bouncer seemed at ease in the disgusting nature of his surroundings. "Whoever's already waiting gets first move. Pull off whatever moves you think will give you an advantage. Best cheat wins, as long as they don't get caught too much."
"Don't worry." Noticing how the crowd was centred around a single table, John was glad that he had shown up late. It meant that he wouldn't have to bother with the small fry. "You won't catch me cheating."
There were only a few moves left in the Duel. The player sitting directly in front of John was twitchy, nervous. An endless array of mistakes and poor moves was coming out as cards were fumbled, pockets literally turned inside out to find hidden advantages and a Trap actually played sideways. "Why don't you just quit before you hurt yourself?" John had heard people with that sort of laugh before. They were rarely nice people. "Does anyone else want to try their luck against me?" Although there were three other Duels still going on, all players were obviously just going through the motions. Nobody had any chance of winning against this man.
"Latecomer just got here." Rumbling with the voice of authority, the bouncer cleared a path with presence alone. "You okay with letting him have a try?"
"Of course." Wiping the board clear of his opponent's cards – the ultimate insult to a Duellist – the proud victor was feeling unbeatable. "Take a seat, my friend. I'm Nugai, the only one who will be moving on once we are done here." Tucking his cards back together, he began a snazzy show of shuffling them back together.
"You can call me John." Setting his own Deck on the table, he opted for far more mundane methods. "Nice technique. It lets you keep combos together by shuffling in larger blocks." Noting how the thumb and index finger always stayed close together, he was already picking up on how big a cheat Nugai was. Just like his playstyle, his cheating methods were loud and proud.
"What of it?" Noting the much slower and more thorough approach John was taking, Nugai could only sneer. "And what do you call that? The 'granny shuffle' or something?" Laughing nosily, he failed to notice had John was focused on another voice that only he seemed able to hear. "Let's get this started." Setting down their decks, they each drew cards.
"Sorry, Nugai." Keeping his own hand concealed from those about him – in case Nugai was working with a partner – John was unaffected by the posturing. "You just picked up an extra card. House rules, you have to return it." Looking up at the impassive nod the bouncer was sending him, Nugai slowly returned the card to his deck again.
Silence spread outwards from the intense Duel as it rapidly progressed. No fancy tactics were being carried out, neither side was calling cruel names. John just sat there with an easy smile as combo after combo unravelled on his side of the field. Nugai could only sit there and flinch as John would carefully and ceaselessly call out all of his underhand tactics as they happened. Until that Duel, he had been the obvious winner for the illegal tournament. Now his opponent had come out of nowhere and stolen a rare opportunity away from him.
"No!" Swiping away his cards in an outraged blow, Nugai somehow failed to connect with any of John's cards. "There is no way that you can be spotting all my moves! You have not cheated this entire game. Has anyone seen him cheat?" Dark mutterings surrounded the pair. The entire point of the underground tournament was to find those Duellists who were both good in a Duel and better at cheating at one. To be accused of playing a fair game was more deadly than not being able to prove against it.
"You've been watching me the entire time?" Still smiling across the table, John slowly reached into his sleeve and pulled out a Pot of Greed. "Can you tell me when I hid this one away?" Nugai flinched. He had no answer for that. "And you overlooked how I straightened my cards before each draw. Really, you gave me so many openings that it's shameful to even admit." Running his fingers down the spines of his cards, John stopped at an invisible mark. "Now, I'm just guessing that this happens to be an Equip Spell." Pulling the stack away, the hiss of a disappointed crowd had him check. Monster. "Sorry, this is the Equip Spell." Picking up the card from the new top of his Deck, John applied it to the pile. True enough, it was an Equip Spell.
"Damn you!" Nugai tried to leap across the table in a wild attack as the opportunity of a lifetime slipped through his fingers.
Wham! Without any sort of warning, a powerful fist swung through the space and sent him flying back over his own seat. "You all know the rules." Speaking with the authority of a man who could simply destroy anyone who claimed otherwise, the bouncer seemed unfazed by the turn of events. "Best cheat who can still win gets to move up a rung on the ladder. Everyone else has to wait for another opportunity to come along." Sensing that it would be best that they not argue, the crowd melted away in drips and drops until it was just John, a groaning Nugai and the veritable mountain of muscle still at the table.
"Why do I think that you're a bit more than the bouncer?" Unusually polished teeth exposed themselves back at him. Not smile, just a show of perfectly intact tools evolved for tearing meat apart. Even the hopeless people still clinging to the edges of the room shivered.
"You're good at this. Not perfect," Letting the card slip down by one had been a smart move on John's part. It made his trick seem almost perfect. Just in need of a few more refinements from more talented and practised minds. "But good enough. We could do with some guys like you." Holding out a torn piece of paper, the overseer waited until John took it. "There's another couple of rounds to go first though."
"Sounds fair." Reading what was written on the paper, he committed every line to memory. "Guessing that this isn't the only bracket you've got running. Best of each faces off, last one standing gets the opportunity." That massive fist looked like it was winding up for another swing. "That's how I'd do it. Keep shuffling things around as well, only let the winners know where to go next." Waving the piece of paper – marked with a time and address for later in the week and in a nicer part of the city – between them, John was suddenly away of just how many eyes were following it. "A few more rounds?" Tearing the paper into as many pieces as he could, John scattered them through the air. "Sounds fun." As the fallen parties scrambled to piece together enough of the shreds to find suitable information for each of them to use, John stepped out of the mess. If the group had stopped to think, they would have realised that working together would have allowed them all to find the next location instead of failing to find it for themselves alone.
"It was foolish to taunt them like that." As he walked down the empty road, a smile filled that handsome young face. Being on the road for so long might have downsides but it also brought some amusing times. "You know that word will spread."
"That's the plan." Using an overflowing dumpster to spring into the next alleyway over, the precaution shook loose at least one silent follower. "No point in trying to get inside unless they'll take me seriously." Pausing at a crossroads, he checked about him in the pretence of looking for vehicles. "Besides," Noting that it was safe enough to continue his journey, the good-natured man crossed the road as clouds gathered far above. "What's the worst that can happen?" Like Akiza would come to realise nearly eight decades later, there are certain phrases that should never be uttered.
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