I know I usually do these at the end but I wanted to apologise for a lack of updates recently. I was moving and had no internet for the last two weeks and my old place. But I have been productive and you should look forward to a slew of fresh chapters in the next few days.
I also really want to apologise to my latest reviewer, who thinks my story sucks. It must have been awful to read through a combined total of nearly half a million words and hate all of them. But thanks for the feedback, I will genuinely take it under advisement.
While Mongolia was small enough to arrange lodging in the next town over, Bejing was impossibly more complicated. The first difference was that Bejing was a complex mess of streets instead of the open plains of the neighbouring country to the north-west. Another problem was that Mongolia had barely over three million people in the entire country while the Chinese city had a staggering population of over twenty-one million. John had imagined that the Rare Hunters might have set their new recruits up with somewhere nice but nothing had been mentioned except for the meeting that was still two days away. It appeared that they were either tight-fisted or wanted their recruits to be sturdy, tough and able to cope by themselves. That was fine. John had certain advantages over the rest of the Rare Hunters and a habit of landing on his feet.
Getting a place to stay had required a lot more effort than it had previously. Expensive hotels were plentiful but would ask for his passport and John intended to fly beneath the radar as long as possible. Cheap accommodation was dominated by the local populace who lacked a place of their own to stay each night. Scores of young people took advantage of relatively luxurious cyber-cafes that sold both fresh underwear and rented out shower stalls for less than it cost to rent even the cheapest room. With a strange sense of shared privacy binding them together, joining the ranks of these 'cyber-homeless' was a tempting thought if people wanted a place to stay without being tracked. John had actually considered it before realising that some of the more radically competitive members of the Rare Hunters might take the effort to track him down and take out the competition. He had kept looking.
After six hours of searching through increasingly despairing venues, the closest thing to perfect came up – cheap, close enough to transportation routes that he could get around the city and with the sorts of exits that gave him plenty of options if the worst arose. Something about the sign gave him a good feeling – the Dragon Inn.
"Good evening." Bowing low, John had known a smattering of Mandarin his entire life and only increased his vocabulary during his travels. "Do you have a room open?" It was the sort of seedy place that probably charged by the hour if two people came in but that also meant a high turnover for rooms.
"How long do you expect to stay?" Despite the dingy vibe coming from the entire building, the décor itself was not actually that bad. Wooden carvings lined one of the walls in stories of legendary tales that had grown dusty from lack of care.
"At least three days." Spreading a few notes out on the counter, John noticed the cheap watch and knock-off phone. Despite the originally impressive design of the building, it had fallen quite far since construction and ends were stretching lately. But the owners were clearly putting the business before their greed and every surface seemed sturdy. "Do you have any rooms available on a high floor? I enjoy seeing the lights of a city." Judging from the look he received in response, at least one of the words did not mean what he thought it meant. Considering that the receptionist didn't do much more than frown, John assumed it was nothing insulting and more of a minor slip.
"We do." Typing in an adjustment into an ancient computer, a variety of options came back. For the sort of criteria that John had come to value, he couldn't readily walk into a hotel he was comfortable staying in and ask for them outright. Of course, a good friend of his had taught John how to properly phrase the requests in a way that wouldn't bring the police calling.
"Remember," A voice went unheard to everyone but him. "Try to avoid sounding like a stalker this time." A previous excursion over in India had ended abruptly when poor phrasing had summoned the police to his hotel door. John had been able to distract them long under the guise of a translation error before leaving at high speeds.
"Is it possible to be just higher than the building across?" Pulling a battered camera from one pocket, he put on an air of wonderment. "The way that the city skies tier has been a central point in my portfolio this year. By examining how the light filters and reflects from the urban surfaces," A short and intensely boring spiel about the way broken antenna and flapping washing lines added layers of personality to his photographs later and John was given a room two floors above the neighbouring rooftop. Not bad for a camera that had stopped working two months ago.
Unlike his spacious rooms in Mongolia, this one was cramped to the point of being claustrophobic. A tiny shower cubicle could just about hold him – if he bent at the knees to adjust for the height difference between him and the local populace – with a sink so close to the door that he would have to squeeze around it and lean on one side of the toilet to actually sit down. Ignoring the washroom for the minute, he put his bag on the narrow bed and untied the top. As was usual during any lengthy journey, the contents inside were comfortably at rest.
Carefully bunching up a blanket around the bag, John was restless from his journey into the country. Sitting on a cramped train was one of the only ways that he could easily travel but left him with the pressing urge to stretch his legs afterwards. "I'll be back in a while." Most people would have thought him a bit strange for his talking habits but John was accustomed to enough strange that he no longer thought about it at all. "Enjoy the view." True to his 'photographic needs', the inn had given him a moderately stunning view if the city skyscrapers in the distance with a nice frame provided by the building across the narrow alley.
Due to the high amount of universities in the Haidian District, much of the populace that lived there were students from all walks of life. While the majority were native Hans, many other ethnic groups had travelled from across the world to study at one of several nearby institutions. John was able to walk through the area with only one or two glances that lasted longer than a few moments.
"If you're feeling homesick" Noting how relaxed the surroundings were making him, that little voice that only he could hear spoke up again. "There's always that open offer waiting for you. Maybe you could put some thought to it once we've finished here." Along a street of mostly coffee shops and bars, he paused outside one selling scholarly jackets. Almost eerily aligned with his head was the sort of flowing jacket his old principal wore.
"Maybe." Shaking free of the reminiscence, he moved on again. "It'd be weird getting stuck in one place after travelling around this long. I get to meet a lot of new faces out here." Although he liked meeting new people, not all the ones John met liked meeting him. That brief pause outside the dark shop had let him check around him for any unwanted followers. John needn't normally be so careful but he was preparing to crash a party and would hate for anyone to ruin his surprise.
"No decent Duellist should have to scope out their arena for more than a few moments." Certain voices manage to sound sniffy even if they were speaking to an audience of one.
"Don't forget," Muttering to avoid drawing more gazes than was necessary, John crossed the road to his final destination. "Right now, we're meant to not be decent Duellists." The Wukesong Arena was not large enough to be world-famous. It had been constructed a while ago for use during the Beijing Olympic Games but fallen out of global fame the instant they closed. Now it was mostly used for basketball, hockey and the occasional private event that nobody looked too closely at.
Main doors would usually be locked at this time so he simply skirted the outside in favour of a less obtrusive entrance. There was usually an open window to slip through or the occasional delivery entrance that didn't shut properly. Rarely was he lucky enough to actually encounter a door that had been left ajar. If John didn't know better, he might have assumed it was his birthday. Carefully slipping through the gap, he entered a dimly lit service corridor that ran beneath the main complex and gently began creeping down the hallway.
It was unlikely that the Rare Hunters would use anywhere but the main arena for their meeting. For some reason, the underground operation could never be pictured have coffee and cake around a conference table. Dim alleys and subterranean meetings places were more easily imagined. So – since John had already done basement round and there was no sign of anyone else in the service corridors – one of the latest members of the Rare Hunters slowly entered the vast, echoing empty space that was surrounded by seats.
For the first time in a number of years, he felt the comforting official feel of a proper Duel Arena. Even after being absent from the circuits for a few years, there was still no way to miss the electric tingle that came from standing on the polished floor. Audience or no, it was impossible to resist the instincts rising in the back of his mind. Almost without his noticing, one hand moved to the wrist where a Duel Disk would be attached, going to draw a card that wasn't even there.
"What are you doing here?" At least a convenient distraction would be able to pull John's wandering attention back into the present. Turning around, he stared directly into the imposing pectorals of an aggressive security guard. One step back and a tightly tilted head let John see the angry face and glinting metal badge.
"Just thought that I'd take a look around to get a feel for the place." Flicking his gaze from those angry eyes to that very shiny badge, John made the sort of decision that a good psychologist would take much longer to arrive at. "You know, get some of my tricks ready before the big event in a couple of days."
"There's no event scheduled for the next couple of days. Now," Jerking a thumb over one shoulder, the stockily built Han was probably able to throw the intruder right out of the facility without much difficulty. "Get out."
"That's good. I mean, you almost had me going for a few minutes there." More like a few seconds. John would freely admit that the imposing guard had given nothing away in his facial expressions or let slip any emotions but there was a dead giveaway pinned right to his chest. "But I've never met a security guard who kept their badge that clean." It was true. Not a lot of police officers could distinguish between their badges and a crudely sculpted rock. "Like I said," Reaching into his breast pocket with two slow fingers, he pulled out his 'Scandal of the Commoner's Hand' card to show the hulking muscle. "I'm just here to get a look at the arena."
For a long moment, the guard continued to scowl. He continued to scowl anyway but the angry tilt lessened slightly at the sight of the invitation. "Looks legit." Barking out a single note of laughter, he tore off his badge. "For a fake card anyway." Reaching into his pocket, he drew out a copy of his own. "Chinese delegation. Call me Han." Whether that was his real name or just his ethnicity was up for debate but John had a feeling that he had just found the man who left an exterior door unlocked. "Didn't expect to bump into anyone else here. At least I came prepared." A careful eye examined John's rugged jacket, worn trousers and dirty shoes. It must have looked like he was down on his luck as opposed to the hardened traveller that he was. "Must be rough, living in your rank." Another dirty look went to that jacket.
"I get by." Giving a carefree smile and rustling his hair, John was more at ease now that he had confirmation that this was another Rare Hunter. "I'm the winner of the Mongolian tournament. Call me John." At the mention of the neighbouring country, Han's face had twisted into a sneer.
"Mongolian tournament?" He spat. Literally, gobbed phlegm right onto the floor. "That backwater has less people than this city. Probably all weaklings." Although Han's attitude made John want to correct the other man, he decided not to. Firstly, because the Mongolian Duellists he had faced off against were mostly both weak Duellists and sloppy cheaters. Secondly, he was aware of the vast difference in both height and mass between them. Such an unfair fight would surely draw unwanted attention when Han was found knocked out by somebody half his size.
"Yeah, they weren't that great." Accepting the facts, he tried to put some distance between himself and the supposedly worthless Duellists. "I was just passing through and wound up entering the tournament. Didn't expect it would get me a meal ticket this big." Indicating that they both – being new recruits for the Rare Hunters – were above such petty ranks, John steered the conversation away from himself.
"I heard that this meeting is going to be all the top brass." Even without meaning to, Han was providing a virtual fountain of information. "Us newbies as well. Guy at the top has some big plan. He's got deep pockets as well, judging by this place." Although the Wukesong Arena didn't look too closely at their private events, they still charged a lot more than most people could pay without worrying. "Don't cross me on my way to the top and I won't crush you beneath my boot."
"Okay." Switching out his smile for a more intense look, John was more focused now than before. "But don't blame me when it all blows up in your face. Because I'll be long gone." Receiving a deadly stare in return, the two parted ways and walked off out of separate exits.
Despite himself, John had a feeling that he would have liked Han under different circumstances. He was a stern Duellist through and through but that cheating nature of his undermined all the good work that he could put towards developing the talent. At least he had let slip enough for John to know that he was finally closing in on the upper echelons of the Rare Hunters. Until then, it had constantly been lower and mid-tier guys. Occasionally, his contact would send him a few places that could do with looking into but John mostly worked things out by himself. Knowing that Han was the best recruit in all of China and that he had already taken out the Mongolian delegation, John realised that he could expect nearly two hundred people to show up to the event. As much as he would like to take them all on, he would need to quietly pick his options and bide his time during the gathering.
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