There is an old saying: watch what the left hand does when the right hand moves. It means to beware (particularly in government) of what some people will try to sneak by when everyone is distracted. Nobody would doubt that the honourable right hand in events was Yusei Fudo, all the eyes of the world watching him undergo a tribunal to determine his guilt. There was little doubt that it was the most interesting event since he had been crowned the King of Games just a few days before. Picket lines and mobs were forming at random across the city, calling police to break them up only for squabbles to rise and require additional forces five times out of six. That left a lot of places with depleted guards and previously unthinkable plans dripping with possibility.
Enter the proverbial left hand.
Many unsavoury acts had been carried out under Goodwin's supervision of New Domino City and the resulting control by Yliaster. Research into Shadow Cards, unethical experiments to transfer the abilities of a Psychic Duellist into regular people. What had not – or could not – be destroyed was locked away and placed under heavy guard. Few people in the city knew what had survived or where it still resided. One of these people was a highly trained police officer with who had left his phone alone one time too many. Only a few minutes were required for that list of who knew where the last of these dangerous devices were hidden had grown by one. Now they were coming to take the treasure.
It would have been far easier to enter at night but the crowds and protestors who so wonderfully drained the regiments of guards dispersed under the chill grip of evening and let the ranks top right back up to full strength. Besides that, the light of day would only make it impossible to miss the intruder. It would have been next-best if the hideout had been fully deserted but five moderately trained police officers posed little enough of a barrier to risk it. Nobody really liked guarding an unknown location while important events were going on so both moral and attention would be in short supply.
Entering a secure building is a tricky matter. Cars are searched, identities questioned and unfamiliar faces scrutinised. That is not to say that getting in is impossible, merely difficult. Getting in without being detected was far closer to being impossible. Three ways are typically least guarded: through the roof, through garbage disposal or from beneath. Roofs are difficult to reach without being seen, waste systems are surprisingly closely observed and infiltrating from beneath – while usually the least guarded of all – presents the unique challenge of getting there in the first place. Unless there was already a passageway present.
Large cities have large infrastructure and large government buildings need access to large amounts of resources. Large drains of water mean large pipes. Pipes just big enough for a person to fit through. Unlike the waste pipe that had allowed Yusei to escape from the Satellite aboard a Duel Runner, this pipe was just about large enough to enlist a steady crawl. Official records would list it as 'undergoing maintenance' for a period of six hours. Short enough to avoid suspicion, long enough for a brief infiltration.
People rarely patrol the service levels beneath industrial buildings. Machines ran themselves well enough for the most part and few like to work in areas that never see sunlight. If anyone happened to have been lurking around a rarely visited sub-level twenty feet below ground level, they might have noticed a heavy metal cover carefully pried open from inside. They would also have been privy to a slim outline of a helmet emerge slightly to scan the surrounding floor. Of course, anybody who had been present to see any of this would have been swiftly dealt with and wished they had never seen it in the first place.
Clambering out into the empty room, careful hands slipped the hatch back closed again. Scanning around the room, it located the correct target set high up near the ceiling in the form several dirty slats. A sullen, silent glare went towards the vent. If any sound had been heard from the intruder, it would have been a weary sigh. Every detail of the plan had been committed to memory and this was far from the last cramped space that it would have to endure. Lifting itself up into the vent, a careful arm reached back to pull the cover into place again. Even if there was little chance of anyone entering the disused basement, they would instantly notice the swinging panel and sound the alarm.
Air ducts – whilst hardly spacious – connect just about every possible corner of a building. As long as a person stayed in those connected directly to the building itself and didn't strain against the metal plating, a careful crawl would allow them to move about completely unseen. In this case, two floors up from the lowest floor, back out along the floor, third left, fifth right. Silently repeating the instructions eventually revealed a vent opening even more disgusting than the one in the dungeon far below the ground. Quite why there was even an air duct that lead to that passage was anyone's guess.
Crawling out of the hole, the figure dusted itself off as it looked up the gaping hole of the elevator shaft. Three cubes were available for a building this size but only one actually went to a place that almost everyone in the building was unaware even existed.
Scanning up the lengthy walls of the shaft, sharp eyes picked out an irregularity almost perfectly in the middle of the building. It was actually slightly higher than the middle to account for less populated floors near the entrances at the bottom of the building. Thicker than average elevator doors were positioned on the left of the shaft. That meant the intruder would have to avoid directly interfering with that elevator which would have tighter security than any of the others.
A rare stroke of luck was actually bringing one of the other two lifts down the shaft at that moment. Clambering up the emergency access ladder, it was an easy step to make the jump from the side of the shaft to the lift. Of course, luck wouldn't extend as far as letting the correct elevator be the one to reach the bottom of the shaft. Instead came a leap to grip a cross-brace on the exterior of the lift to dangle beneath. Smashing into the side of the lift would have alerted anyone inside more than a slight swing that could be attributed to uneven pull on the cables.
Floor displays in elevators are notorious for being unreliable but the ones in these three lifts were probably the most accurate in the city. A simple program deduced which floor the lift was departing from, where it was going and then evenly distributed the amount over the duration of the journey whenever it would involve going past that those reinforced doors. It was impossible for this lift to even stop outside the floor so the figure simply told it to arrive at the floor above. No recorded use of that simple program, easy to reach up and shuffle into the tiny crawlspace between two floors one another panel was lifted up and allowed the intruder to squeeze through.
Hundreds of films have depicted rugged heroes crawling through wide vents or gaps between floors large enough to squat between. Reality was far less kind. Most buildings had gaps barely a few inches wide. Cables and pipes had to be easily accessible and or replaced but nobody wanted to lose minuscule amounts of money on the long shots. Service staff would have to simply inch their way through the gaps for hours at a time in order to fully replace unimportant cables. At least the building currently being infiltrated had planned on regular upgrades. There was almost enough room to comfortably combat crawl through the tiny gap. Almost.
Another thing that people constantly misunderstand about floors is how little noise they actually block. Your average office worker will swear that they cannot hear through to the next floor. Your average office worker has also not been in the office during the dead hours of the morning where it is possible to hear a vacuum cleaner operating on the other side of the ceiling. If an impossibly unlucky worker was to take a few wrong turns on the way to the watercooler and end up sandwiched between floors, it would even be possible to listen to individual footsteps moving back and forth. Of course, such a disoriented person would likely end up screaming for help instead of planning how to elude patrols instead.
Cautiously edging into a quiet area of the crawlspace, the intruder calmly listened to the patterns of footsteps. If they were being counted correctly, there were currently four guards on patrol around the floor. And – judging from the regular patterns they were making – not venturing into any of the rooms on the floor. A calculated risk was paying off. No official plans existed for the hidden floor and any sort of reconnaissance could have raised the alarm long in advance. If the floor had been a single open space, intrusion would have failed. Luckily for any intruders, governments love to compartmentalise. Rows of cube-like rooms lined the floor in rows. Much like the floor to Yusei's office far across the city, these were filled with records that most people couldn't be trusted with.
Inching through the gaps between the floors, each footstep above gave just enough noise to indicate where the rooms were. Builders like to keep things uniform. It made construction that much easier. Which meant that most of the rooms would probably be an equal distance apart from each other. So if the steps were sounding ten feet to either side of this spot, it was either directly in the middle of the corridor or hidden away in one of the rooms.
Hopefully, it was the latter. Suddenly dropping into the middle of the hallway in sight of the guards would present a few problems.
Carefully peeling back a panel on the ceiling, it was relieved to see the unmistakable signs of a dark room below. Even better, it was a file room. There was no telling the secrets contained within. If there had been the time, every document would have been scanned and read. Instead, there was only minimal interaction with the documents. Making sure that there were no security devices on the drawers, a nimble hand dipped through the documents until it found everything that it needed.
Crouching down by the door, a careful examination of the tiny gap between the frame revealed only a standard latch keeping the door closed. Maybe so the rooms could be used as interim prisoner holding, keypads were on both sides of the handle in order to prevent anyone from breaking out of the room. If only the builders had thought to add a manual lock. Threading a realigned paperclip through a piece of string formerly wrapped around a cardboard box, the resulting hook looked just like a fishing lure. Curling the thread of metal around the door latch, tugging it back out from the door left the string curled on both sides. A slight pressure on the handle, one swift tug on the string and the door opened.
Budget cuts were every thief's dream. Fewer guards, lower security, logs on keypad usage instead of doors unlocking. Despite the extreme lengths taken to hide the floor – and the room that was being used as an access point – all that security was being overcome by a piece of string, a paperclip and a torn shred of blank document forced into the latch hole to keep the door from locking again. Even if the process had taken longer than was preferable, it was still shockingly easy to actually do and would leave barely any trace of tampering.
The problem with most people – the figure had realised – was how they often tended to try thinking on a large scale when a smaller one would work better. Still, getting outside the room was one matter. Moving around without being seen was a different one altogether.
That there were no cameras on the floor was the singular weak point in security. Any cables could be compromised and feeds hijacked so the design had gone for living security instead. Each guard always had at least a decade of field experience and none of them had high enough clearance to actually open the most secure vault. Attacking one would raise the alarm while gaining nothing in return. A tiny tingle of enjoyment would run through most hardened thieves at the challenge but it also happened to raise a tinge of panicked bile in the dark throat. Fear of being discovered had that sort of effect. Even though it had taken precautions, there was no way of eliminating the chance that a guard could walk around a different corner than normal and catch the intruder in the act.
According to the patterns of footsteps, one guard would carefully walk around the outside perimeter at all times. Another two would guard the lift while the final pair walked back and forth along the rows and columns in staggered timing. Despite the lack of manpower, they were providing a remarkable level of security to the floor. At least, except for the one that was currently enjoying a break to listen to the news on the radio.
'trade sanctions. Meanwhile, Scandinavia remains in the grips of the extreme weather that has plagued the region for nearly three years. Scientists predict that it may be a minor climate shift in the region. In local news, a prominent member of the New Domino Scientific Research Centre appeared before a special tribunal into the suitability into the Yusei Fudo to lead the facility. One scientist delivered a lengthy report which cumulated with the phrase "a lot of you are worthless piles of manure". The SRC has declined to comment until after the tribunal has been resolved.'
Wait. There was a break in the pattern. Two sets of footsteps had 'coincidentally' bumped into each other as the radio was hurriedly cut into silence. As they were at a crossroad in the grid, there was no way to get around them without being noticed. Waiting patiently around a corner of one room, the silent party listened in to the conversation as it kept an internal fix on the perimeter guard.
"What're they saying about the trial?" Even at a time when security was at their thinnest and everybody should be on full alert, there was still time for gossip. Plus, sharing the news would allow them to be let off without reprimand.
"Nothing much. I think one of the science people called most of the tribunal a pile of shit." That would be Din's character reference the day before. Nobody else would have the nerve to go on record with such a pointed insult or possess the drive to actually prove it. Of course, he was also intelligent enough to avoid saying it outright.
"Damn. I almost wish I was on the City Hall detail." A quiet snigger came from one of them. "Beats constantly walking circles around here. How often do we even get visitors?"
"About once a month. At least they came early this time." The guards sounded fairly bored with their duties. "I heard that they were going over a lot of the cases to see what sort of experiments the SRC does. Keep having to send the public out until they can redact the good stuff." Waiting patiently around the corner, the intruder had been listening to the news feeds on the journey over. Going over SRC experiments served little purpose in relation to determining Yusei's suitability to lead the facility. The tactic had freed up some urgency around the trial and spared the time to commit to this infiltration so the thief was grateful to it but still held suspicion about what the real goal was.
"Unless they've got a cure for my bald spot, they can go hang." Almost spitting in anger, it appeared that one guard was not that big a fan of science. "Better get back to it before the big guy comes back out." Muttering shared grunts of comradeship, the pair departed in their own separate directions. Once the way forward was clear again, a black shape flowed over to the centrepiece of the floor. Three times the size of any of the other room, this vault had walls three inches thick and had a suitably impressive entrance to match.
A lot of tax money had been put towards building the door. It was large, gleaming metal and even had a giant obsolete tumbler sat into the middle to reinforce just how heavily protected it was. A palm reader was placed to one side of the door, a retinal scan just above it and there was even a keypad just to make the security company look like they knew what they were doing, bless them. Some people just liked adding on extra lights into security in order to look more effective.
First to be overcome was the hand scanner. Whoever had installed this scanner had cheaped out on the model. Some of the devices at the SRC would fail to open if a person's skin was too dry and started cracking. This particular device was nowhere near as advanced. A medical glove, a slight application of quick-drying glue pressed against the screen was enough to copy the last set of prints that had left behind an oily residue from their touch. Let the computer cycle through once for a failed scan before reapplying the adjusted copy and the first security precaution was bypassed. It was horrifyingly simple after that.
In order to stroke the ego of easily unsettled politicians, the name and picture of whoever owned the palm print would flash up on the screen as the hand was taken away. That literally told a well-prepared thief exactly who needed to present an iris to be scanned. For legal reasons, anyone who had access to this room had to pass a certain level of physical fitness, including a mandatory eye exam. It was an obvious option to go and steal an eye and hand but that would completely destroy the idea of stealth and meaning having to actually interact with somebody. Far easier to simply find the government optometrist who had carried out the examinations and take a copy of their records. Then it was a simple matter of constructing a virtual eye to be offered up to the scanner. Closing an eye inside the mask to avoid any chance of an overlapping image, the retinal pattern that appeared on the front of the helmet was good enough to fool the second machine. That only left the keypad.
What a lot of security companies fail to publicly disclose is the existence of an overriding command code built into their devices. It is so that any big client that might suffer an embarrassing hack can be quickly and quietly put back to factory specifications at the small cost of having to reassign any passwords previously in the system. Everything from bank machines to supercomputers had some sort of mechanism to bypass the security in a hurry. Weirdly, a lot of security companies actually had fairly poor security once you managed to get inside and finding the top-secret access code had been easier than sneaking onto the hidden floor. One entry of a master command code later and the third lock sent a green light to join the other two and let the door open slightly. Worming fingers into the gap, the figure slipped inside and pulled the door shut an instant before one of the guards could turn a corner and spot the intruder.
All manner of items that could fulfil the darkest dreams or bring nightmares to the most twisted mind lay hidden inside the room. The intruder was momentarily overcome with a greed to take everything before it focused on the task at hand. There was too much to safely carry anyway. Forged credentials could open the door but there were several rows of shelves from where absolutely every scavengeable item had been gathered from the ruins or remains of every experiment into things humanity had no control over. Each case and crate in the small storage room was secured with thick locks and heavy chains. It was almost too easy to find the few items that really mattered.
Walking over to the first of two cases at the rear of the room that were the real goal, a dark finger traced a straight line through the thick loop of metal holding it closed. With a quiet tinkle, the broken padlock fell to the floor and allowed the case to be opened. Inside lay an innocuous item that wouldn't be out of place just about anywhere in the world. It was difficult to imagine the sheer destructive potential that lay within. Who was stealing it didn't have to imagine – the had seen recorded footage, read bloody results. They knew exactly what they were doing, what they were taking.
After the first case, the shimmering outline inside the second was far less shocking than if it had been seen first. Deadly, dangerous, corrupting. Check, check, check. Many of these qualities were shared with basic firearms. Unlike many guns, this weapon had a sinister match to the empty darkness that reached out for it and vanished the item to areas unseen.
Every story has heroes who do the right thing for the right reasons. Most also have villains, those who do the wrong things for the wrong reasons. Some even dwell on grim 'anti-heroes' who undertake morally dubious actions for morally dubious reasons, right things for the wrong reasons. The lunatic who was currently undertaking the single dumbest heist of the decade was certainly not a hero but probably not a villain either. Wrong thing for maybe almost the right reasons. Would such a thing as an anti-villain describe it best? Morals were often overrated and a waste of time when under pressure. Brushing aside the moral implications for another time, the careful criminal spirited away the item before turning to pick out a few of the other dangerous treasures.
If and when anybody thought to look inside the impressive vault, their sole link to the crime would be a new user who had only ever opened the door a single time. It was not a complicated trick to pull off once somebody was inside the system. In speeds that fell not that far short of incredible, the thief had entered, swiped the loot and was about to leave before alarms could be raised or guards could spot the intruder. Only a flicker of pride passed at the illicit act. It was smothered beneath the weight of what had been done.
"My my, marvellously done." Whirling around into a low crouch, the intruder reconsidered the wisdom of not bringing an active weapon. Then it recognised the figure that was slipping from one of the bigger crates with a slow serious of claps and double-layered smile. "Why, not even Mr Hogan could have done it better." Standing back upright, the figure made a point of folding both arms in disbelief as it rubbed at a painted jaw. "Hmm. You probably noticed that pesky item is incomplete. Would you care to know why?" Ignoring the diminutive man, the intruder made for the door with their ill-gotten loot still kept under a watchful eye. "It is because all the others used in the research vanished along with their users during tests. Quite gruesomely, I might add." Pausing before the inside pad, a more lengthy code was entered by swift fingers. "Are you not at least curious how I knew to be here today?" Leaping from the crate like some maniacal jester-in-a-box, Lazar slipped over to lean against the imposing door.
Now there was a question that actually had some meaning to it. Pausing in the typing (which would have erased Lazar's code from the system and locked him inside until the guards came to find him) the intruder looked at the unthreatening figure blocking escape. Lazar was a formidable opponent yet not when locked in a confined space with no way to pull tricks. If he had somehow anticipated this theft – which was bordering on impossible – then a squadron of armed guards should have been waiting inside the vault. Not a strangely approving, eccentric bureaucrat.
"How about we make a deal?" Smiling up at the contemplating convict, Lazar withdrew a thick package from inside his jacket. "All you have to do is take this and hide it in the safest place you can think of. In return, I'll pay you, I don't know." A wicked smile perfected his sinister complexion. "Whatever you can take from this vault in a single trip?" It was closer to blackmail than extortion. All that he had to do was trip the alarm systems and this excursion would be over far faster than it had begun.
Cautiously reaching out a hand, the package was taken in one black palm. Heavy, reinforced container. Marginally smaller than the average atlas. Weighty enough for an explosive. Probably contained a tracking device of some kind if not a deadly trap. Unwrapping the layer of white cloth that covered the contents, breath caught in a hidden throat. "Oh, you recognise it?" Lazar's jab barely registered. Yes, they had a rough idea of what it was. Billions in terms of money. Priceless in terms of value. "As a said, just take it to a safe place and you can keep your trinkets." Gripping the container tight in both hands, an awed look stared out at him. "No need to thank me. I'm just trying to make sure it doesn't end up in the wrong hands. Besides, you've proven that even Police Headquarters isn't secure enough to protect it."
Getting into the vault required no small effort. Even discovering the hidden floor was a result of intense preparation. Being able to sneak into that room had been the result of daunting research. There was obviously another game afoot. That didn't matter. Everyone was playing several games at the same time. What worried the thief was just why they were being involved in it. And – as Lazar had already pointed out – how he knew to be waiting. Nobody else had known the infiltration would be happening that day. Suddenly, the intruder remembered what they had overheard the guards saying – that this month's visit to the vault had come early. Impossible though it was, Lazar had known that there would be a robbery that day.
Several ideas flickered beneath that impenetrable mask. Each of them had different yet equally dire ramifications. Tucking them all away in a corner of the mind, a single nod accepted the request. "Now, I'll ask the guards to escort me back to the lift. That should give you enough of a window to leave without being seen." Moving over to the keypad, he paused before actually touching it. "I suppose my code still works?" A silent tilt of a hidden head indicated nothing for certain. "Hmm." Pressing buttons on the pad did unlock the vault door and he stepped out into the corridor. "Guards, guards!"
Waiting patiently inside the vault, the intruder carefully crouched down behind a large crate. If Lazar turned out to be trying for deception – as he had done many times in the past – it would not end well. Just because he hadn't seen any weapons did not mean that the thief was either unarmed or harmless.
"Mayor Lazar." Appearing at a quick trot around the corner, two of the five guards arrived to answer the call. "Is anything the matter?" On the other side of an otherwise innocuous crate, a deadly poise tightened. The talking guard on the left was the sloppy radio-listener from before. He would be easy to take down. Seeing his partner go down would probably stun the other guard and that would only leave...
"Nothing whatsoever." More jovial than a drunk uncle, Lazar seemed to bounce on the balls of his feet slightly as he smiled at the taller figures. "Just thought to tell you that you may want to leave the door open for a bit. There was a sale on spicy noodles and I may have indulged a bit." Suggestion is a funny phenomenon. As he patted a seemingly bulging stomach and flapped his jacket, the guards in front of Lazar took an uncomfortable step backwards. "You may escort me to the lift." Setting the pace ahead of his escort, Lazar was too at ease for someone who should have just been trapped in a room with an intruder. "And don't forget to shut the door once I've left." As it watched the trio depart, an ill-feeling fluttered through the figure. Literally sick to its stomach. Yet filled with wonder at the same time. It had an unusual ability to comprehend ideas beyond normal understanding and the only ones which explained everything were delightfully dreadful.
One guard was left on the floor now, walking in a circle around the perimeter as the door and axis guards made sure that Lazar had departed. Gently stepping around one of the square offices in perfect opposition to the patrol on the other side, the outline slipped back into their entry point without anyone besides Lazar even having the slightest idea that there had been an additional figure present on the floor that day. Removing the paper jam from the lock, a careful hand quietly closed the door back again. Being caught in the middle of the theft had been entirely unforeseen. There had been a plan for the unlikely event that one of the guards happened to stumble onto the intrusion or even if they had been cornered by accident but to have someone waiting on the intrusion? It should have been impossible.
Balancing the panel on careful digits, the figure cautiously raised their cargo down into the hole ahead of them before clambering in. Leaving the building shouldn't have taken as long as getting in. With the precious container being carefully kept from any damage, it would now take about twice as long. It had been down to luck that a lift had been going past just when it was needed. Getting down the shaft would require climbing down an emergency ladder stuck to either side of the shaft, all while without the use of one hand.
As he stepped into a finally empty lift, Lazar nodded familiarly to the guards as the door closed. As soon as he was alone, Lazar took a faded piece of yellow paper from an inside pocket and regarded the words etched into the material carefully. "Ha. Hahaha!" Reaching clawed hands out to either side only accentuated his insane laughter. "Oh, what a joke, what a laugh! This will be a spectacle to see. No time to lose, no time to waste, no time at all!" As the light continued down the shaft, his cackles and quotes could be heard from many floors. Nobody could call anyone as successful as the mayor insane but something about his current attitude was enough to send shivers down spines.
About eight decades ago and a country or two over, a solemn figure was carefully sorting through Duel Monster cards as they prepared for their third underground match that week. If things went well, the young man would be moving upwards in the ranks. These types of events had to move quickly. By the time that the officials caught onto any sort of criminal activity, they would be long over.
"Aw man, this could be great!" Running over various combinations, the man currently going by 'John' had heard that he would be getting an official introduction to higher circles if he managed to win the upcoming Duel that evening. "But what if..." Reaching towards the stack of Spells he had been keeping over to one side, idle hands flicked through the pile as he searched out a card to add an extra blow to the final move. "Hey, what's this?" Picking up new cards was a habit every good Duellist learned yet John rarely felt the need to add a new one to the already versatile mix. "Where did you come from?" Reading the text, he smiled at the perfect addition to his Deck. "If I use this, then I can follow up with Astral Shift to really boost my hand. Or maybe Negate Attack, if I'm running low on Life Points." Setting aside his new addition for a moment, John picked through the assortment of Traps spread out across his bed which could provide further combinations.
Then something strange happened. He could have sworn that he was holding a new card in his right hand but – when he turned back with several ways to boost it – all that was there was a standard De-Fusion card. "Aw man, where did it go?" Looking about himself in a panic, there was no hint of the card. It was as if it had simply vanished into thin air. With little time remaining until he had to attend the final stage of the underground tournament, Jonn decided to focus on finalising strategies for the evening ahead. He had no way of telling the danger that was encroaching on his life.
As he went to the closed Midas Arena for the final round of illegal Duels, he checked his pockets for the card. During breaks between consistently close Duels, John did everything short of peeling off his trousers to locate the wondrous momentary addition to his collection. When the sinister higher rank came up to congratulate him on a victory, they received a deliberately insincere apology as John looked up from checking his Deck to see if it had slipped in without him realising it. "Whatever." Unlike legitimate tournaments, underground Duelling didn't require anyone to act nice. Quite the opposite, in fact. Kindness was weakness. "Here," Holding out a card, it barely reached a waist height before John snatched it up. He had really liked how that missing card had complimented his Deck. "You're the only guy in the country to get one of these. It lets people know that you're one of us." It was obvious what the creator of the card had intended. 'Scandal of the Commoner's Hand' was a snide comment on the incredibly rare and valuable 'Glory of the King's Hand' and 'The Glory of the King's Opposite Hand' used in Duellist Kingdom. "There's a big gathering over in Bejing in a few days. All the newcomers and top brass will be there. Boss says that he's got big plans for us." Maybe comradeship wasn't enforced but thieves tended to stick together. Once he had passed across a date and location, the hand stayed out for John to shake. "Kid, you did good this week. Keep it up and you'll go far in our organisation." Looking at the thieving, lying, cheater straight in the eye, John let nothing seep past his game face as he gripped the dirty palm. "Welcome to the Rare Hunters."
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