Yuri was very busy. The arms dealers had a tough business, especially for a small businessman like Yuri, who had to be on the move to make steady money. The giants were on the move too, flying through the sky every day, appearing wherever there was turmoil, like strategists, to solve the problems of the common flesh-eaters. Of course, there was some word play, like 600 miles and six miles in the land of business, but by and large, most people were disciplined. Because rules are not lacking in this business.
Yuri is a wonderful man. He sold Israeli Uzi guns to Muslims and Communist bullets to Fascists, but he didn't sell much to Osama bin Laden, not because of morality, but because his checks always bounced.
Such a man, of course, would not miss an opportunity. Tom was his idea of an 'oddity' and an 'opportunity'. But after meeting him in late July, the two didn't speak. Until one day in early September, Yuri received a letter from his young friend Tom, but in a strange place, on the high seas. The ship itself was rusty and looked old, probably older than everyone on board. Yuri was on this ship, with all his money.
Five nautical miles to the right of the ship, a small speedboat was breaking the waves, with a couple of heavily armed men on board, the man in the bow with an inch of hair and a pair of sunglasses, leaning one foot on the edge of the boat, oblivious to the cold water hitting his face.
"Shit! What are you talking about? What do you mean, leaked information? Explain to me what you mean by a leak of information! You want me to lose them? Use a freighter to lose a launch?" Yuri stood in the captain's cabin, a satellite phone in his hand, and cursed, with none of the grace and composure he had shown earlier in London. No wonder, any arms dealer would have lost his temper if he had known that his entire fortune was in the crosshairs of the ICPO.
Yuri hung up the phone and immediately dialed another number, asking for the name of a boat of the same tonnage as the one under his feet, then ordered his staff to change the name on the bow of the boat and substituting the flag on board.
On board the boat, one person said, "Sir, the name of the ship ahead is the Kono, not the Kristol we are looking for, this ship is fine."
"It doesn't look fine." The big-headed man was Jack, the junior captain of the OIPC, and he stared at the rusting hull for a moment. "I want to come aboard and inspect."
To Jack's surprise, the Kono stopped and allowed them to come aboard and inspect the ship. But they didn't take it lightly, after all, the other side could be vicious arms dealers! But it wasn't what they expected, it was an ordinary cargo ship, and Jack opened one of the containers to find it full of potatoes, which had been exposed to the hot tropical sun and smelled very bad.
But that didn't deter Jack, and he was about to continue his inspection when his men informed him that they had spotted the Kristol to the north: the intelligence agents Yuri had paid were on the job. So Jack immediately prepared to disembark. He looked back, but suddenly saw a white pigeon crouched on the edge of the captain's cabin window. He was under the impression that pigeons were plump, lazy creatures that lived in squares, and that the sea was far away, but seeing one here gave him a strange feeling. But he did not stop, but quickened his pace, he had more important things to do.
Yuri watched the drifting boat, with a letter in his hand, a white dove pecking at the bread on his table, a letter that showed him a magnificent world of magic: flying brooms, ghosts that hadn't died in thousands of years, houses born from nothing, objects and people inside a portrait that moved and stairs....
Yuri felt envious, envious that the boy could live in a legendary world of magic,
But feeling the salty sea breeze and estimating the profits in the store behind him, he was not so interested in the world of magic. Yuri sometimes wondered why Tom was willing to tell him these things, a submachine gun wasn't worth that much. He didn't take the bull by the horns, as far as he was concerned, the two were using each other.
His eyes went to the pigeon, who was happily eating, and he knew his connection to the magical world was tied to her. His gaze softened and he poured another glass of water for the dove.
...
"Get that pumpkin juice for me, please," Tom said.
Tom ordered a pitcher of cold pumpkin juice from his housemate, Stephen Comfort, and poured it into his own glass. The golden plate in front of him was already piled high with a rib-eye steak, a roast rack of lamb, a roast chicken thigh, a big spoonful of stew and two pieces of buttered bread, plus some sausages, bacon and the like.
The food at Hogwarts is, to say the least, very good, and it's all free, so it's heaven for food lovers. Of course, the taste may be a bit more British, and many people probably aren't used to it, but you can sneak into the kitchens and give the enthusiastic house elves a recipe, and you'll soon have your food on the table.
Popping cold pumpkin juice in his mouth with the juicy beef, Tom reckoned that Yuri would probably get his letter by noon today and hoped to establish a connection with the arms dealer, after all, by Christmas this year, something big was going to happen and the arms dealer's future would be extremely bright. It wouldn't hurt to know one beforehand.
"It's a pity you didn't come this afternoon." The roommates gathered to discuss the board game they had been playing this afternoon.
Tom swallowed his meat slowly and told them, "It's nothing, I have a new game here that is even more mind-blowing and exciting than the one you are playing."
This comment caught the attention of the housemates. Seeing them all looking at him, Tom gave them a brief explanation of the rules of Werewolf, the simplest roles of course: Prophet, Witch, Hunter and Guardian.
"Prophet, Witch, hunter, guard... Sounds like fun." Stephen Comfort nodded thoughtfully, very aware that the game seemed to be a brain-burner; that was really cool, he loved brain-burner games.
"This game requires a minimum of six people, and there are exactly six of us, so we're going to try again tonight.... Two gods, two people, two wolves." Tom made a suggestion that struck a chord with the housemates.