Jounouchi submerged himself into the world of gangs. It was a world he thought he'd never return to, after wrestling himself free from its clutches. If it hadn't been for Yuugi, Jounouchi would've ended up either dead or in jail; he had no doubts about that. It was fairly unsettling to him though, how quickly he got used to it again: the slang, the attitude, the hierarchy and the mechanics of belonging to a gang. He wasn't adopted into any gang yet, he had to build up his reputation first. Jounouchi went along with Hirutani's contact, Keith Howard, who introduced him here and there. The American wasn't high up the food chain himself and seemed to be content to be used as an errand boy or as a messenger. Jounouchi wasn't fooled by the man's casual attitude; Howard was aggressive but kept himself perfectly under control, waiting like a shark, circling in deep waters to strike and attack when the time was right. Jounouchi hadn't exactly forgotten what thug life was about. He could keep up this facade and play the tough, wannabe gangster, but he hadn't counted on the slew of intense emotions involved. He wanted to talk to Yuugi. Even without his psychological training and studies, Yuugi was a good listener and would be able to help Jounouchi cope with his nightmares. Now all he could do was to take a shower in his ratty hotel room in the hopes of washing the bad memories and the bad experience away. Going undercover meant that he had to sever contact with his family and friends for as long as it would take him to complete this mission. He couldn't go back to his own apartment, he had to maintain a low profile. It was only going to get more difficult from now on. He had to build up his reputation and work his way up, and gather more information about the Pharaoh, until he could reach the man. He had to do all of this without seeing his friends or his sister, and being on his own in this raunchy hotel room, which was barely above cockroach-infested standards. He could hear his neighbors yelling and screaming, banging on doors and ceilings, faking ecstatic orgasms, and on the upper floor someone was playing a loud and violent videogame, every shot fired in the game resonating like an exploding grenade.
He had to figure out the key to this Pharaoh's power. Everyone he had talked to, and Keith in particular, had spoken about him with great admiration and awe. No one wanted to speak badly about him, and some low ranking criminals were even terrified of him. How come? What was his secret? How had he managed to rise to such heights in just six months? The most important question was, how had the Pharaoh achieved all this power without bloodshed? Through the years, gangs had only increased in violence and killing, and the Ryuzaki and Haga were known for their constant shoot-outs. At least he had learned the name of the Pharaoh's bodyguard: Mahaado. He could relay that bit of information to Hirutani and have him perform a background check. Such an uncommon name... Egyptian, maybe? And was he also working for Zorc Security? The name of that company popped up everywhere. Whoever this Zorc was, he sure had a knack for employing quite the buff and tall types. Jounouchi shook his head. The key person was the Pharaoh, not his bodyguard. He was the one risen to power, he was the one looking like Yuugi, he was the one controlling the yakuza and people talked in awe and in fear about him. He was the target, and no one else. Jounouchi took a deep breath. If he could make it to the Pharaoh, he would find out about the killers and why the CEOs were targeted. He only needed to not end up getting killed himself.
Jounouchi continued to mingle with the people in the underbelly of Domino City. He gathered as much information as he could and pretty soon, he knew the names of the biggest players, who belonged to which gang, who to avoid and where to be when things got interesting. Much to his own surprise, Jounouchi discovered that the Pharaoh's influence wasn't based on weapons, drugs trafficking or extortion, just to name a few. The Pharaoh and his 'men' (Jounouchi hadn't met anyone directly working for him, yet) were looking for certain items, and he had the toughest and nastiest criminals looking along for them. Items. Jounouchi was almost in shock. Marik doesn't have his Item yet. That explained the massive increase in burglaries and robberies, but it didn't explain the killings of Pegasus and Dartz. Nobody knew what kind of 'items' the Pharaoh was exactly looking for and it didn't help matters that his bodyguard was as silent as a grave and hardly deigned anyone with an answer. To Jounouchi's careful question whether the Pharaoh ever showed himself, people were shy to give an answer: if the Pharaoh did show, shit was going to hit the fan. It was more common to see Mahaado; which didn't mean people could breathe easier.
Jounouchi felt frustrated, as he wanted to see the Pharaoh in public and determine whether he looked like Yuugi or not. In the best case scenario, he wanted to talk to him, but Jounouchi knew that wasn't an option, not for now. So he would start with Mahaado, but it was hard to tell when and where the bodyguard would show up. The frustration was infuriating. They had to eat, to sleep, to stay somewhere! Jounouchi couldn't imagine the bodyguard cooking and cleaning, but every question about the Pharaoh's whereabouts was met with either shrugging or silence; nobody knew for sure.
A great opportunity finally knocked on Jounouchi's door when he learned that a rival gang had managed to pilfer a lot of historical items by intercepting them through customs and whisking them away for sale on the black market. Rumor had it that a lot of the items were of Egyptian origin, which automatically piqued the Pharaoh's interest. The part which interested Jounouchi was that according to the same rumors, the Pharaoh himself would come to look at the items. Finally a chance to see him in person! The meeting would be held at a top-secret location and he had to threaten and bully some people to learn exactly where: the basement below the Domino City sports stadium. Jounouchi prepared himself physically and mentally for the meeting. This was his chance to make first contact with either Mahaado or the Pharaoh. He couldn't wait. This was what he had been working towards to.
The harshly lit basement was crowded and seeped with smoke from cheap cigarettes; Jounouchi kept a pack on him to pass around, but he made sure never to touch the stuff himself. The Ryuzaki, the gang responsible for the heist, were congratulating themselves with their victory. A few Haga, Jounouchi didn't know why they were here, looked on with sour expressions on their faces. Excitement grew. Jounouchi's hands itched. He wanted to arrest everyone in the basement for carrying (illegal) guns and for all the crimes they had committed. He grunted as he was squished between two Ryuzaki and he tried to find a better spot. Suddenly, a reverent silence fell. Jounouchi craned his neck to catch a glimpse of the person approaching the tall crates in the center of the basement. Finally! His disappointment was great when Jounouchi saw it wasn't the Pharaoh. This had to be Mahaado. The man was tall and bore a dark tan. His dark brown hair was tied back in a simple ponytail and under his eyes Jounouchi could see black lines; perhaps a tattoo? He was dressed in plain, common clothes, starkly contrasted by the conspicuous, golden bracers around his upper arms and wrists, along with a broad, golden necklace. Jounouchi frowned. This man was supposed to be powerful? He wasn't even that buff or muscular compared to a Rafael or a Kemo. However, everyone treated Mahaado with the same regards as they would treat the Pharaoh; in utmost silence, barely breathing, the crowd parted ways to let the man pass. He walked up to the tall crates and at his command, two gang members removed the heavy lids. Mahaado leaned a little forward and reached into the crate. His long, slender fingers touched the first object: a granite bird-shaped statuette. Jounouchi didn't recognize any of the art; he kept his attention on the bodyguard. Mahaado didn't speak and sorted through the crate at a surprising fast pace. With knowledge and experience, he separated the contents of the crates in three different piles. Jounouchi couldn't see it all and tried to worm his way forward. The crowd was densely packed and not everyone was as friendly to let him pass. When Jounouchi wanted to move forward again, he halted. Not that far away from him, he saw two people he wanted to avoid for as long as possible: the Ishtar 'brothers', Marik and Malik. Jounouchi quickly retreated behind the back of the man in front of him. That was a close call! It was only a matter of time before he would run into those two. Their Rare Hunters had grown explosively, increasing in crimes and violence all over the bad districts of Domino City. Jounouchi swallowed. Of course they were looking for the 'Item' that Bakura had mentioned. He could see them staring intensely at the items being sorted, not paying attention to their surroundings. Malik looked like he wanted to burn a hole in every artifact, and Marik licked his lips. From his position, Jounouchi could see that something was stuck in the loops of Marik's belt; it was a knife that suspiciously looked like the ceremonial dagger used to kill Dartz. A shiver went down his spine.
Mahaado was finished and straightened himself. He glared at the leader of the Ryuzaki gang, called 'Dynosaur' Ryuzaki, always quick to suck up.
"You will bring these items to me," he said. "The rest are cheap knock-offs. You have my permission to distribute them the way you like."
"Yes, Mahaado-sama," Ryuzaki bowed so deep that his nose almost hit the floor. The crowd started to dissipate. Jounouchi kept an eye on the Ishtars: Marik leaned into Malik and told him something, as his lips were moving. Malik looked disappointed and angry. He nodded nonetheless and made a sharp turn to the left. Jounouchi ducked out of sight and held his breath when the Ishtars walked past him, not a few inches afar. He waited until they had left; only then he was able to breathe again. Jounouchi mixed himself into the group of lower-ranked lackeys who were busy packing the items Mahaado had deemed worthwhile. Casually, he picked up a wooden carved box with a gold-leafed motif, decorated with hieroglyphs. It was heavier than it looked but still as casually as he could muster, Jounouchi walked behind another lackey to the exit of the basement. A tall moving van was waiting outside for the items to be loaded, and Jounouchi stepped inside, helping out until the van was full. Nobody questioned his presence and soon after, the van drove off.
At least thirty minutes passed when the van stopped again. Jounouchi was incredibly curious as to where he was. He didn't recognize his immediate surroundings; an impressive mansion - of course it had to be a mansion - was in front of him, but before he could take in the details, a man roughly shoved him.
"Come on, we can't keep Mahaado-sama waiting," he hissed and Jounouchi quickly started walking, with the box in his hands. "No, not that way, moron. The back!"
Grumbling, Jounouchi followed the others to the back of the mansion. People walked in and out through an open door. His breathing became erratic. Was this the place where the Pharaoh lived? He was so close to his goal! Putting up a stoic face, he entered the mansion.
It was a museum. An Ancient Egyptian museum, to be exact. The mansion breathed an atmosphere of millennia old age, with its warm sandy colors, the walls depicting the vibrant art, interspersed with hieroglyphs. Any modern utility, like the burning lights, were designed or adjusted in such a way that they didn't stand out in the magnificent decoration. Jounouchi stared at the depiction of ancient Pharaohs and Gods; it was simply stunning. Despite showing it age, it didn't feel cold - the mansion was welcoming its visitors and Jounouchi almost felt ashamed for the boorish gang members, stomping over the beautiful carpeting. He had never seen such wonder in home decoration and it was awe-inspiring and overwhelming at the same time.
"You there," a brusque voice startled him out of his thoughts. "Move on to the next room and put the item on the table."
"Yes, Mahaado-sama," Jounouchi said and refrained from looking at Mahaado. The bodyguard gave out more orders, having forgotten about Jounouchi as soon as he noticed someone else balancing an object in the wrong way. Jounouchi went into the direction Mahaado had pointed at. The room was empty safe for a large table, put exactly in the middle. He put the carved box next to the other artifacts. If these were all authentic, then he had stumbled upon the biggest art heist in his entire life...
"What are you still doing here?" Mahaado stood in the door opening, posture rigid.
"I was just admiring the collection," Jounouchi said, cringing at his weak excuse.
The bodyguard glared at him. "Who are you?"
"Jounouchi Katsuya," Jounouchi introduced himself. "Free-lance entrepreneur! Versatile and professional."
Mahaado tilted his head a little. A strand of dark brown hair slipped from the confinements of the ponytail and slid over his shoulder. "You don't belong to the Ryuzaki gang," he said.
"Opportunities don't knock on your door," Jounouchi answered. "I saw an opportunity and took it."
"An opportunity for what, exactly?" Mahaado crossed his arms in front of his chest. Jounouchi took his earlier thoughts about the man's strength back. Even though he wasn't that buff, the firm muscles rippling under the tan skin told him otherwise. He suddenly wasn't sure if he could beat Mahaado in a fight, street-style.
"I know you're looking for items."
A scowl. "That is not exactly a secret, Jounouchi Katsuya. You are not the first to offer your 'services', and not the last. We do not have any need for another petty merchant. You can leave now."
"You're looking for Items-items," Jounouchi said, stressing the first 'Item'. It didn't get a reaction out of Mahaado. "Gold, a pendant."
It was just a twitch of the man's right eye, but Jounouchi caught it.
"There are many golden pendants," Mahaado said. "I know how to distinct the fake from the real ones. Too many people think they can copy our holy art and make knock-offs of our statues and scriptures, denigrating and reducing our ancient traditions to rubbish, overflowing the market and cheapening our sacred culture."
"I can find what you're looking for," Jounouchi boasted. "Just tell me what you and the Pharaoh are exactly looking for."
"You can leave," was Mahaado's answer, and he moved his arm to point to the exit. "I am afraid you will have to walk. Your friends already left."
"Are the Ishtars your friends?" Jounouchi said brusquely. Another twitch. He groaned mentally. This guy was tough to crack!
"So you know the Ishtars and their Rare Hunters," Mahaado said, not realizing he casually confirmed the connection between them.
"They're looking for the same thing, aren't they? Marik doesn't have his Item yet."
Now that brought out a more noticeable reaction: Mahaado widened his eyes. For a moment, the bodyguard seemed unsure of what to do, before composing himself again.
"You will wait here." Mahaado left the room. After waiting a couple of seconds, Jounouchi exited the room as well and turned to the direction the bodyguard had disappeared into. He stared at a carpeted, broad staircase. It was very inviting to go upstairs; the Pharaoh had to be on the first floor, he just had to be! Before he realized it, Jounouchi had put his right foot on the lowest step. He could hear soft mumbling; low voices, but he couldn't identify who was speaking, the sound was too distant. It was dangerous to get caught eavesdropping, so Jounouchi went back to the large room. Patience, he had to have patience. He couldn't afford to blow his cover and botch this mission. Jounouchi studied the artifacts on the table until Mahaado returned five minutes later, the man was as silent as a cat. He didn't say anything like: "The Pharaoh wishes to speak to you".
"You might be of more use to us than I thought," he said instead. "The Pharaoh thinks you are able to gather more information on the Ishtars and their search for the Items. You will report back to me."
"I'm quite the busy man," Jounouchi said audaciously. "If you let me talk to the Pharaoh about what Items he's looking for..."
"You are not going to talk to the Pharaoh," Mahaado said curtly. "Everything you have to say, you can say so to me."
Jounouchi flashed him a big, obedient smile. He couldn't risk this frail contact to get ruptured by his own eagerness.
"Send the Pharaoh my regards," he said as he left the mansion. Once he was out of the door, he released the breath he was holding. His stupid little trick had worked out great, and he had managed to bluff himself into the service of the Pharaoh, somehow. Apparently his 'knowledge' of the Items was in his favor, but it was also his weakest point. He could never get close to the Isthars. They knew he was a detective; Isis had introduced him as such to her brothers. He was walking a very, very fine line here. He couldn't involve them in his plans to get closer to the Pharaoh. He had to find out more about the Items himself, through any other means. What was so important about these Items? Why was everyone looking for them? Was this some kind of twisted rat race? Whoever got the Item(s) first, won?
"It's like a goddamn scavenger hunt," Jounouchi muttered to himself. He crossed the perfectly maintained garden and made his way over to the tall, iron wrought gate. He opened it and stepped onto the pavement.
Due to his years as a cop on the beat, Jounouchi had a good layout of the city in his head. He recognized immediately where he was, and grunted. It was going to be a long walk back to his hotel. Well, fuck it, he wasn't going to walk all that way, so he called for a taxi and allowed himself the relative luxury of being driven to his destination. When he arrived at the dilapidated, sleazy hotel, he walked past the counter, but the receptionist whistled at him. The older man plopped a note with some kanji written on it on the counter.
"I'm not your secretary," he spat crudely, "tell your Miho to use your cell phone number or whatever. I'm tired of taking her calls."
Jounouchi kept his face schooled in a neutral expression and picked up the note. 'Miho' had called at least seven times. That was bad. The receptionist laughed a little lecherous.
"Cute voice, though. I take it she's very nice?"
"Nicer than you could ever think," Jounouchi said and showed a similar, lecherous grin. The man snickered.
"Let her drop by instead of leaving messages by phone."
"Oh, you'll see her soon enough," Jounouchi said and shoved a few yen over the counter. "Thanks, man."
It wasn't really necessary to keep the receptionist on his friendly side, but Jounouchi was careful to not make enemies. Even the smallest thing could save or break his life later. Sauntering, he took the stairs to his floor and carefully checked his door before opening it. He didn't want to be surprised by any unwanted visitors. After checking the rest of his room, Jounouchi pulled out his cell phone. Fifteen missed messages. He had turned the device off before the meeting and hadn't thought to turn it back on yet. 'Miho' was the code to contact the station right now. Something was wrong, totally wrong. His fingers trembled as he pushed the buttons.
Mokuba frowned in deep concentration, staring at the board game in front of him. He was contemplating his next move, weighing his options. Yuugi waited patiently for the younger Kaiba brother to make a decision. It wasn't like he had any places to be. Playing a board game with Mokuba was a good distraction. He chatted Yuugi up like there was no tomorrow and he helped him not to think of the problems at hand. Yuugi felt very nervous since his name had been mentioned in the ongoing CEO-killer investigation. He couldn't believe someone might be out there, looking like him. How could that be possible? Yuugi had the feeling Jounouchi hadn't told him everything, but he respected his friend too much to pry.
"This one." Mokuba moved a capsule over the board and now it was Yuugi's turn. Capsule Monsters was a fun game; Yuugi enjoyed old-fashioned board games like he used to play with his grandfather. He revised his strategy after seeing where Mokuba had placed his capsule. They were both so engrossed that they didn't hear Kaiba enter.
"Mokuba, what are you doing out of bed?"
Startled, Mokuba fell over. "Nii-sama? What are you doing here? Something wrong at the office?"
"No," Kaiba said and stalked through the room to help Mokuba up. "I heard from the doctors that you've been up all day and don't want to get back to bed."
"For crying out loud, nii-sama," Mokuba rolled his eyes, "I'm not that little kid who's dragging your suitcase behind you anymore! There's nothing wrong with me. I feel fine, and Yuugi's keeping me great company. I want to get back to work ASAP and there's nothing you can do about it."
Kaiba grunted and glared at Yuugi. "How's he doing?"
"Kaiba-kun, he's perfectly healthy," Yuugi said. "I've noticed no fainting or dizzy spells, lapses in memory or sudden changes in behavior."
"So you've been keeping an eye on me too," Mokuba said, mock-hurt. He tapped on the board game. "Just make your move, Yuugi, so I can win!"
Kaiba looked at the board game and shook his head. "You'll never win like this, Mokuba. Yuugi has you beat within three moves if you don't change your strategy."
Mokuba looked sour.
"I didn't know you like to play games too, Kaiba-kun," Yuugi said.
Kaiba snorted. "I've been playing since I was a kid."
"That's true, nii-sama was extremely good at chess! Now he's developing technology for the Duel Monsters game," Mokuba said, with unabashed pride in his voice. "Holographic technology no less, to make the cards come to life. Our Virtual Reality system's going to take the world by storm!"
"Duel Monsters? The game developed by Pegasus-san?"
"Yes, he created and developed it," Kaiba said. "I bought the rights after his death. Now I can combine the game and the technology to raise it to the next level, keeping KaibaCorp. at the top of the market." He pursed his lips. "I told the captain all about it. Buying the rights of a game doesn't make me a killer."
"Nii-sama," Mokuba flinched.
"I know what he's doing," Kaiba made a rude gesture with his head towards Yuugi. "If he's not psycho-analyzing us, he's telling everything he's learned here to the police. I'm not sure how fast he'll run to the tabloids."
"Kaiba-kun," Yuugi said, genuinely hurt. "I would never do that!"
"We're not friends, Yuugi," Kaiba reminded him. "Just because we shared a few classes back in high school, eons ago, doesn't give you the right to call me your friend, and certainly not '-kun'."
"Nii-sama, stop it," Mokuba said sternly. "Have you forgotten what happened to Yuugi?"
"I'm not interested in what happened to him." Kaiba turned around. "Enjoy your playtime, Mokuba."
"I'm sorry," Mokuba apologized after Kaiba's brusque departure. "Sometimes I don't know what goes on in his mind. I know he cares, but he sure has a... strange way of showing it."
"At least he's showing it to you," Yuugi said. "It would be a lot worse if he didn't, don't you think?"
"We've had our altercations," Mokuba said. He pulled his knees up and wrapped his arms around them, hugging himself like a small child. "When we were younger. He could be really cruel if he wanted to achieve something. He wouldn't have any consideration for what I was thinking or saying."
"I do believe Kaiba-kun has your best interests in mind," Yuugi said, not about to refer to Kaiba with any other honorific. "He has never learned to deal well with his own emotions, and he projects his harshness around you in a way to protect you, to shield you."
"Do you ever talk like a normal person, or are you the psychologist right now?"
"I'm your friend," Yuugi said. "I'm sorry, I can't help it when some psychology slips in. I hope it doesn't make my opinion less valuable."
"No, you're right, I'm being an ass." Mokuba turned towards the game again. "You know, I'm glad that you're not giving up on him. On my brother, I mean. Most people would've run away screaming or crying, but you're still here."
"I'm here for my own safety and to help the both of you out," Yuugi said. "It doesn't mean I can't be your friend, or his."
"Nii-sama doesn't like friends. He sees an enemy in almost everyone."
"You both had a rough life. When faced with such hardships like yourself, it's nothing but logical to build up walls around you and be more distrusting. You two have been hurt and all that negativity buries the softer, kinder, caring side. It's so hard to regain trust in people after being badly treated."
"I wonder if my brother shows his caring side in his way of doing business," Mokuba said. "You do know that Duel Monsters is primarily targeted for children?"
"It's great that Kaiba-kun makes it possible for kids to play a wide array of games with his technology."
Mokuba grimaced. "It's such a difference from what our stepfather did."
"I'm not sure..."
"Warfare," Mokuba spat out. He rocked himself back and forth. "I saw the tanks and guns myself, stored under KaibaCorp's HQ. Nii-sama showed it to me when I told him that I didn't believe that Gozaburo was capable of it." Yuugi didn't interrupt. "Gozaburo adopted my brother because of his potential and intellect, and I was part of the deal, but I didn't add anything. I was too young and too stupid. He had to go through hell, what Gozaburo did to him, and I was given a stuffed animal. 'Here Mokuba, you amount to nothing anyway, go play and don't be a bother.'" Tears started to well up. Yuugi left his side of the table and went over to Mokuba, putting his hand on his shoulder.
"I saw the guns, Yuugi. I saw missiles and rifles, everything to kill and destroy! That was KaibaCorp.. It was a fucking warfare factory!" He burst out in tears and Yuugi wrapped both his arms around him for a comfortable hug.