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HC: Card Slinger | Ch. 74 - Mulligan Café
🕑 Added 2025-07-24 18:44:48 +0000 UTCDeckard pulled his jacket tighter around his neck, shielding his throat from the wind. Autumn had turned colder, wetter. Rain slicked the quiet pavement, puddles reflecting the dull gray of the overcast sky. But the chill felt good. After yesterday, he was glad to be outside.
He’d spent the day holed up in his apartment, shuffling decks and running solo matches on repeat. The problem was, you couldn’t lie to yourself. You always knew what the other hand held. With chess, both sides had full visibility. No surprises. But card battlers? Hidden information was half the game. Solo play just didn’t cut it.
So today, he’d ventured out in search of something better.
After a quick glance both ways—more habit than caution—he darted across the crosswalk and slipped into a narrow side street. Tucked between a shuttered laundromat and a faded print shop stood a storefront he hadn’t visited in years.
The sign above the door now read: Mulligan Café.
Deckard paused. That wasn’t right. He remembered it as Mulligan Game Shop. When had it become a café?
“Well, at least they’re still open,” he muttered. The last place he’d tried had been boarded up, a For Lease sign taped crookedly to the door.
A sandwich board stood outside, its chalk lettering smeared by the drizzle:
MULLIGAN CAFÉ
Every Morning @ 10 AM: Bridge Brunch – Free drink for 65+ player
Fridays @ 7 PM: Poker Night – Buy-in includes free nachos
Saturdays @ 3 PM: Nova Cardia League (Deck rentals available)
Sundays @ 3 PM: Spaces & Spades League (Deck rentals available)
Promo this week: Legendary Scone – Pull a legendary card from packs opened here, get a free scone!
He let out a faint huff of amusement. Busy little place. Mixing menus and mechanics, food and games—it had charm.
He lingered at the threshold for a moment. Maybe this place still had something to offer.
Deckard stepped inside.
The place was a blend of nostalgia and reinvention. The shelves once held nothing but trading card sleeves, miniatures, dice sets, and boxed games. Now, they shared space with snacks—peanuts, chips, chocolate bars—all blending in naturally, as if they'd always belonged. In the corner, a kettle corn machine painted in bright carnival reds and yellows radiated heat and the sweet scent of caramel.
Where folding tables once overflowed with kids deep into trading card battles, the space had transformed into a cozy café. Every table had a chessboard printed on its surface. A trio of friends chuckled over a board game. A couple leaned on the bar, sharing coffee.
One patron sat with their phone slotted into a holo-box, a projected game flickering above the table. “Darn it! It crashed again,” the man muttered, setting his coffee mug down a little too hard. Deckard caught a glimpse of the cards and smiled. Nova Cardia.
Further in, a green poker table sat beneath a hanging light, in use by a quartet of old-timers trading stories between hands.
Deckard slowed, his steps hesitant, like he didn’t want to break the spell. The warm lighting, the murmur of conversation, the faint scent of popcorn and coffee—it wrapped around him like a forgotten melody. In an age where enhanced virtual reality reached nearly every home, this place felt like a tucked-away pocket of time. It didn’t just sell games—it remembered them.
There weren’t many patrons, but the store pulsed with quiet energy. It had stretched and reshaped itself to stay alive, chasing after those who still believed in the joy of shared tables and shuffled decks. Less a temple for the devout, more a sanctuary for the faithful few.
“It’s been forever since I last visited,” Deckard murmured.
He’d played in a few local tournaments here back when his hands still trembled before a match. Later, after he’d made a name for himself, he returned for a quiet meet-and-greet his agent had arranged. He usually hated those—the spotlight, the small talk, the pressure to be on. But here, it had felt... comfortable. Familiar faces from his early days had been in the crowd. Some even remembered his first matches.
Maybe I’ll find someone who can help me test my decks here after all.
Deckard made his way to the counter, hoping a coffee might chase off the lingering chill.
He half-expected the old owner—a tall, gravel-voiced man with a permanent scowl. Instead, a younger guy sat behind the register, slouched like he’d grown roots. A handheld device glowed in his hands. His blazer was a chaotic patchwork of bold plaids and clashing colors—like something you’d wear only after losing a bet.
Deckard cleared his throat. “Morning.”
The man looked up. Yellow-tinted glasses with sharp, angular frames—like something out of an anime or worn by a pop star mid-tour—rested on the bridge of his nose.
“Good morning. Welcome to Mulligan Café. What can I brew for you?”
“Americano.”
“Coming right up.” He spun toward the espresso machine. Despite the floppy sleeves, his hands moved fast—confident, efficient. Made Deckard think he probably only wore jackets three sizes too big. A hiss of steam filled the air. “I’m guessing no sugar. You look like the brooding, bitter-coffee type.”
Deckard gave a faint smirk. “You guessed it.”
The machine clicked, and a fresh cup was set on the counter. Then, without pause, the man reached into the display case, plucked out a scone, and slid it onto a plate.
Deckard raised an eyebrow. “Didn’t order that.”
“It’s on the house.” The man tapped his temple. “Recognition bonus.”
Deckard tilted his head. “Do I know you?”
“Nah,” the man said cheerfully. “But I know you. You’re the guy who almost beat Savy with an Earth Recursion combo deck, right?”
Deckard let out a laugh. “You play Nova Cardia?”
Nevan smirked. “A little.”
“You sure seem to know the game for someone who just played a little,” Deckard said.
“I actually worked at the Nova Cardia game studios.”
“No way!”
“That’s right. Design team. Economy lead.”
“Wait—lead? Were you the one who created the Golden Dust system?” Deckard asked, genuine interest sparking in his voice. It had been such an elegant solution—keeping the game open to new players without giving everything away on a silver platter.
He laughed. “Guilty as charged. Also the guy who begged them not to introduce those godless gacha packs. Spoiler alert: they did. And here we are.” He shrugged, as if none of it surprised him. “I wanted a player base that didn’t riot. Corporate wanted whales.”
Deckard gave a low whistle. He remembered that patch—it had marked the beginning of the end. “So what happened?”
“I walked,” the man said simply. “No drama. Just knew it was time to go.” He leaned across the counter now, his voice softening just a bit. “You know, a lot of people think I hate the game now. I don’t. Still love it. Still think the mechanics are some of the best ever made. Just... needed to stop breaking my own heart watching it get gutted.”
Deckard was quiet for a beat, then nodded. “I get that.”
“Yeah, well. Their mess now.” The man’s mood shifted, bright again. “Anyway. Nevan.” He offered a hand. “Barista. Co-owner.”
Deckard shook it. “Deckard.”
Nevan pointed a finger. “The Stubborn Tiger doesn’t come all the way to a local café just for a caffeine fix, does he?”
Deckard grinned. “You got me. I’m testing a deck. Looking for someone to play.”
Nevan’s grin widened. “Now that is the best thing I’ve heard all day. Which deck are you trying out?”
Deckard shrugged. “Actually, not Nova Cardia. It’s for a new game I’ve been playing. Terralore.”
Nevan immediately pouted. “Aaw…”
Deckard raised an eyebrow. “Not a fan?”
“Oh no, no,” Nevan said quickly, waving his hands. “I love the game. Brilliant mechanics. Super crisp tempo and lane dynamics. But—argh!” He threw his hands up. “Why didn’t Nexus release it as a real TCG? People would’ve bought those cards! And why not make it into a separate game client? Or at least a mobile app! But noooo... they locked it inside AstroTerra like some Easter egg minigame. What was their design team thinking?”
Deckard chuckled. “Yeah, that threw me off too. At first, anyway. But... the MMORPG integration gives it a unique feel. You don’t just unlock cards—you find them. You earn them.”
Nevan sighed. “True. I get why they did it. Funnel everything into their big online world. Still drives me up the wall.”
He leaned forward, curious again. “Wait—how are you playing with anyone here if it only exists inside AstroTerra?”
“Had to improvise,” Deckard said, taking a slim box from his jacket and placing it on the counter.
He popped it open to reveal neatly trimmed cards.
“Oh! You printed them. So old school. Love it.” Nevan picked one up and flipped it between his fingers. “Good layout... nice cut... ooh, what paper weight is this?”
“Ninety-pound cardstock,” Deckard said.
“Solid choice. You picked just about the best thickness possible without jamming the rollers.” Nevan’s eyes suddenly lit up. “Wait a second!”
Before Deckard could respond, Nevan plucked the box from the counter and vanished into the back with a rustle of sleeves and a shout over his shoulder: “Back in a flash!”
There was a mechanical noise—something whirring to life behind the curtain.
Deckard took a step forward, half-thinking he should stop him, then just stood there, cardless and mildly baffled.
Left alone, he sipped his americano—smooth, bold, just the right kind of bitter. He took a bite of the scone.
And froze.
Warm and golden-crusted, it gave way to a tender center laced with tart raspberry and citrus glaze. A whisper of cardamom lingered at the back of his tongue—unexpected and perfect.
It was the kind of flavor that made you pause mid-bite, like your day had just pivoted in a better direction.
If this guy really was the one who’d designed the Golden Dust system, Deckard thought, then he wasn’t just a genius at economy. He might actually be every bit as good a barista—and a baker.
Five minutes later, the shopkeeper returned, the box of cards in hand. “Here. See what you think.”
Deckard raised a brow as he took it. The cards were still hot to the touch—and noticeably stiffer. “Wait. You—?”
“Yeah. Laminated ’em.” Nevan beamed. “Now they look like proper cards, huh? Oh, and I may have peeked through the deck. You’ve got some very cool cards in there.”
Deckard chuckled. He didn’t know why, but he liked being around this guy. Maybe it was the ridiculous blazer or the anime glasses. Maybe it was the way he laminated someone else’s cards without asking—and somehow made it feel like a favor.
It was the opposite of him. Deckard liked to lie low, to tread lightly.
But Nevan clearly loved card games just as much. Maybe even more.
It wasn’t every day he felt this relaxed around someone he’d just met. He didn’t need to look any further. He’d found his sparring partner.
“Nevan, do you know the rules of Terralore?”
Nevan tilted his head, letting his eyes peek over the rim of his sharp-tinted glasses. “Of course. I keep up with every card game. Occupational necessity.”
“Would you be up for a game? I’ve been testing solo, and... it’s not the same.”
“Absolutely, man. Gimme a second.”
He ducked behind a shelf of miniatures and opened a few drawers. A minute later, he returned with a small pile of components—two miniature castles, a handful of bright squares, a cardboard board split into four segments, and a coin.
“These are our castles. The board splits the field into four zones—two lanes, two sides. The tokens track life points, and we flip the coin for random effects. Cool?”
Deckard nodded, a little spark of excitement rising. “Sure.”
He handed over the Island Affinity deck to Nevan, keeping a Nature Affinity deck for himself.
Nevan sat down across from him, fanning out his cards, chuckling as he studied the list. Deckard rolled his shoulders, the anticipation creeping in like it always did before a match.
Finally, he would get to see how his deck measured up in a real game.
****
Author's note: Hi everyone! So far, Deckard's journey has been quite lonely, and I feel it's about time we introduce some other characters who'll be friends with Deckard throughout the rest of the story. What did you think of Nevan?
Ch. 73 - Redbeard, the Ruthless
Comments
Cássio Ferreira
Thank you for that comment. True. I'm happy that he gets a friend. :D
ByLAWphoto
This kinda feels like when you drive everywhere for years...and then go for a bike ride. It's that nostalgic link to the past that warms the heart. Nevan does feel like the person who's been missing from Deckard's life. It's nice to have people who get the things you're into.
Cássio Ferreira
I'm glad you liked it. Yeah. I have a similar shop near my place. It's what inspired this chapter. Lol.
Stonecold
I really like Nevan! He seems nice and the kind of friend that Deckard needs. I also really vibe with the cards cardshop that is also a Cafe, there is a local place near me that does the same.
