Story 23. Written by Jim Waitlord

The Attic's Secret and the Rat's Mockery

The dusty attic door creaked open under pressure as Dr. Aaron Fox, holding a lamp in his hand, tried to enter the long-forgotten space. The movement sent tiny dust motes dancing in the air, and the attic’s smell—a strange mix of old wood, musty fabrics, and a faint hint of rat—immediately flooded his airways. Aaron wasn't one to shy away from such places; on the contrary, he was somehow drawn to the taste of history and the past.

Floorboards groaned under his steps as he directed the dim, yellowish light of the old lamp onto the beams. The attic’s single, small, dirty window was dark enough to leave the entire space in twilight. Sifting sunlight descended in shafts to the floor, creating the illusion of invisible spiders spinning threads. Somewhere in the distance, an owl hooted, a sharp contrast to the complete silence within the walls. Aaron looked around, his eyes trying to take in the sea of objects: old furniture, bundled blankets, and stacks of books, somehow bound together by dust and time.

The attic was more than just a storage space; it was a repository of the past. Aaron had come up here to search for hidden family secrets his father, who had passed away some time ago, had spoken to him about. His father's accounts, in a strange, mystical tone, referred to some obscure family legend, a hidden family treasure, linked to a great ancestor. After his father's death, Aaron realized that he couldn’t find any trace of that particular legend. It was then that he began his research, believing that he would find it in this very attic.

Yet, here Aaron stood, the beam of light drawing just a few small dots in the gloom. Then he saw it. The old chest stood in the corner like a forgotten treasure chest, black as midnight. Aaron slowly approached it. Carved decorations covered the sides, but the winds of time had so ravaged them that the patterns were hard to make out. The lid of the chest was full of dusty fingerprints, which may have been pressed on it decades ago. It was locked with a rusty padlock, and a huge, thick layer of dust had already formed around that lock. Even Aaron paused for a moment at the sight. Maybe the lock couldn't be opened because it protected some hidden secret.

Aaron carefully took hold of the lock. "Well, old friend, will you open up?" he asked it gently. The answer, of course, was a stubborn silence. Aaron didn't give up; he pulled out a set of old keys he inherited from his father, from a small toolbox. He tried a few, but the lock was clearly not willing to open. "Maybe you're not even opened by a key" - he thought. Finally, he inserted the last key—a small, worn piece. With a little force, he turned it. Then, a soft "click" sound was heard. The lock gave way, and with slightly trembling hands, Aaron lifted the lid of the chest.

The sight that greeted him deeply moved Aaron. Inside the chest lay old parchments, yellowed letters, a broken compass, and a pile of unfamiliar drawings. At the very top, somehow separated from the other things, stood a beautiful parchment scroll. He carefully lifted it, feeling the characteristic smell of old paper. A blurred seal was visible on the scroll. The figure of a man galloping on horseback, in typical Mongol attire, with a raised sword. A stylized Mongol rider in battle dress. Below the seal, an illegible inscription was lined up, but below it, in some unknown handwriting, it read: "Blood does not lie.”

Aaron felt his nerves begin to vibrate. Something deep inside his body stirred, as if the blood had suddenly surged through his veins. As he held the scroll up to his lamp to see it better, a shadow moved behind him. He turned and spotted a rat. The rat was sitting on a beam, as if it were just a silent observer of the secret discovery. But as Aaron looked into its eyes, it seemed to see a mocking glint in the small creature’s eyes.

Aaron cleared his throat. "You're here too, little friend? You know what's here, don’t you?" he asked, slightly mockingly because of the dim light. The rat responded only by nodding its head, then darted to another beam with a sudden movement. "Hmm, you see the opportunity too?" - murmured Aaron. The rat scurried back to where it had come from, softly squeaking something. "Okay, I don't know what you said, but it's enough for me" - Aaron finished his thoughts. The scholar grabbed the lamp, holding it in front of him, as if he needed to illuminate some sort of route. He returned to the parchment.

"Blood does not lie... but how?" he wondered aloud. The only thing he could deduce from this strange quote was that there might be some long-hidden story behind his family. This story was not about money, but something much more valuable, something neglected, forgotten, about the past, identity, and all that he represented. Then a daring thought took root in Aaron's mind: What if all this wasn't a coincidence? What if the legend wasn't just a tale? What if blood really doesn’t lie, and in some way, in some secret way, this can be proven?

"Genetics... Genetic research could reveal something very exciting. And if genetics is linked to law?" he muttered to himself. The rat watched Aaron's whispers from the beam with piercing eyes, and seemed to observe his peculiar thoughts with increasing mockery. Aaron slowly stood up, once again casting the light of his lamp on the old objects, and started to climb down from the attic. As he did so, he smiled at his new plan, and he could already see his plan in front of him. All the way down the stairs, the thought of "why not?" ran through his head, and then he began to imagine himself turning the world upside down.

Mongolavar.com and the Strange Applicants

Reaching downstairs from the attic, Aaron immediately sat down at the computer, placing the contents of the old chest, the parchments, and yellowed letters next to him. The glow of the laptop screen illuminated his face, revealing the mix of excitement and strange determination that mirrored his thoughts. Tapping at the keyboard, his fingers moved quickly across the keys, almost feeling the pulse of his own adrenaline.

"This will be it...the beginning" – he whispered to himself as a blank page opened up in the browser window. The page's title wasn’t exactly the most attractive: “mongolavar.com.” Aaron didn't want a sophisticated or professional look, quite the contrary: he wanted a website that would immediately grab attention and embody a strange, commitment to and eccentricity about the distant past.

The site’s design became a chaotic, surreal mix, which Aaron envisioned as an old 1990s Geocities homepage. Vibrant colours flickered in the background, neon pink, yellow, and turquoise clashing with each other, as if a disco-crazed parrot had been the color designer. The texts flashed one after another in different fonts, making it clear that this was no ordinary website. The images were internet memes, some of which Aaron had created himself: animated riders, avar warriors with their arrows flying, and a drawn Genghis Khan smiling as he hung from a cloud. The images created a strange, surreal mix that was both funny and unsettling.

The main headline - "Does Genghis blood gurgle inside you? Or maybe you're an Avar conqueror in reincarnation? Apply!" - Aaron admitted it wasn't exactly the title of a scientific dissertation. The page was full of grammatical errors, strange sentences, and randomly placed GIFs that Aaron had kept on his computer from the 90s. Although the website looked like a disaster at first glance, it was somehow also entertaining and captivating. As he uploaded content to the page, Aaron became more and more immersed in his own world of fantasy. "This is going to be something special!" he thought, looking at the vibrant page with satisfaction.

Applications began pouring in on the first day, and Aaron watched the incoming emails in shock. “I thought the whole thing was a joke, but then I saw the picture of Genghis Khan, and I knew I had something to do with it,” wrote a high school history teacher who wanted to remain anonymous but enthusiastically recounted their entire life as a history teacher, both their successes and failures. "I know I was a horse warrior... I feel the gallop in my heart!" wrote a retired rock musician, who seemed to be drifting back to the past every day, increasingly imagining himself in battle on his horse. Then came a psychologist, who wanted to advertise his own therapy method, with which he can explain a person's historical past and ancestors, of course with his own scientific method and some spiritual background. The incoming emails often contained strange stories and even stranger ideas.

“I am waiting for the return of the Avars, and if that means I have to register online, so be it!” wrote a martial arts instructor who provided images as proof of his “Avar genetics.” These images looked mostly like drawings that were born in the imagination of a fifth-grader. There was someone who argued with his DNA test that he did not look like his own parents, and therefore must be a reincarnation of a nomad. And there were also applicants who were simply bored and did not even know where they were applying, they just wanted to do something big. There were those who felt drawn to it because of the many colors and the flashing, but did not understand what this organization was. But emails also arrived from chefs who desperately wanted to present Avar goulash to the world and even sent recipes.

Aaron looked through the applicants with amusement but increasing attention. Their names, photos, and stories were unique and interesting. They didn’t seem like the most average people, but something drew Aaron to them. "These people are perfect," he thought. "They're creating something very special!" One email was funnier than the next. So many different personalities met in one place, who were all connected to their past in some way, or at least they thought so. Every morning, Aaron excitedly looked through the incoming letters and began to believe more and more that he wasn't crazy with his ideas from the attic.

One day, Aaron received a strange phone call. On the other end of the line, someone spoke with an accent. "Dr. Fox? I am the owner of the Chinese Buffet on Main Street. I think something is gurgling inside me...and it's not the wok..." said a Chinese man with a Chinese accent. Aaron laughed and didn't know whether to cry or laugh because it was the strangest application of all. He asked the man how "that something" was gurgling inside him. The man replied that "I act strangely every Sunday, and customers just look at me with their heads out. Maybe I am Mongol?". "He's got what it takes for this task! That'll be our real weapon!" Aaron muttered. That day, Aaron met other applicants as well. A coffee shop owner, a librarian, a university student, and a doctor. They were all interested in something in their past.

With the accumulated letters, photos, and stories, Aaron felt that something truly amazing was beginning. It became clear that this was not just a simple project. He felt that the MTA (as he called the group of strange applicants - standing for Mongol-Avar Tribe) could be the beginning of something special. He also knew that with this "strange," but all the more enthusiastic team, they would achieve their goal, which they planned with the rat in the attic. Since then, a strange feeling had taken hold of him. It's as if something "had come back," something from the past. As he glimpsed the page, a huge smile spread across his face as he looked at the applicants again.

Dr. Ethan and the Saliva Bank: "This is Our Money!"

After the success of "mongolavar.com," Aaron knew that the next step required something quite special. He had the enthusiastic applicants, the idea, but something was still missing, some scientific evidence. Someone capable of uncovering forgotten history at a genetic level. It was then that Aaron thought of Dr. Ethan Reed, a strange but brilliant scientist whom he had met during his university years. Dr. Ethan was an eccentric character whose laboratory looked more like an abandoned garage than a modern research centre.

Dr. Ethan's lab was hidden in an abandoned warehouse on the edge of town. The building looked dilapidated and dirty on the outside, but inside, it was a chaotic scientific sanctuary. The walls were hung with boards full of scribbles, formulas, and notes. The floor was covered with all sorts of cables, measuring instruments, and half-assembled machines. Dr. Ethan, in a worn, stained lab coat, while wearing a microscope on his head, was conducting an experiment he called "the hidden dance of light." Aaron often imagined he came from another dimension.

The doctor, as if straight out of a sci-fi movie, was a true mad professor. His hair was tousled in all directions, his glasses always slid down his nose, and his gaze was sometimes distant and sometimes suddenly focused on something in his lab. Wherever, and with whomever, he talked, he often dropped a scientific concept that people could only watch with a blink. Dr. Ethan was eccentric, and that was exactly what fascinated Aaron so much. He experienced science as an art.

"Dr. Ethan! I met my university friend last time" - started Aaron as he entered the lab, but Dr. Ethan didn't pay any attention to him. The scientist was trying a strange mix in a test tube. "Aaron? I haven't seen you in ages! Look, here's a new kind of energy source! It's simply amazing!" he said enthusiastically. "I brought something amazing too!" - replied Aaron. Dr. Ethan looked at Aaron and took the microscope off his head. "What is it? Some new theory? I know everything, Aaron. Everything!" - he said smiling as he put the microscope back on. Aaron took out the parchment he found in the chest.

"There is a possibility to prove the long-forgotten history by genetic means" - said Aaron, showing the old parchment to Dr. Ethan. The scientist looked at the old document by the lamplight. "Blood doesn't lie... Exciting! Our genes carry the whole past, Aaron. It's not impossible!" - he said excitedly, abandoning the cold indifference typical of the scientist. "So... saliva samples?" - Aaron asked, a little unsure. "Of course! Everything is in the DNA chain! It's like a huge code that needs to be deciphered. It won't be that difficult, will it?" - Dr. Ethan exclaimed, and began searching in a box with "Saliva Bank" written on it. Inside the box were various test tubes and small bottles.

The “saliva bank” seemed like a rather funny name, and it was already chaotic at first glance. Test tubes of different sizes and shapes seemed to have emerged from a long-forgotten warehouse stock. In some of the test tubes, the sample had already dried, while in others, the saliva still looked fresh, or at least the many different interesting bacteria and all kinds of other substances were clearly visible on the glass. "This is where the little saliva cats will come!" - Dr. Ethan declared as he grinned at the box.

After that, Aaron and Dr. Ethan jointly devised the logistics: members of the MTA would receive small bottles in a package and the postal labels needed for returning them. "This is not going to be a scientific experiment, Aaron! This is going to be a historical event itself!" - said Dr. Ethan, while watching the plans with shining eyes. The scientist became so enthusiastic that Aaron could hardly keep up with his line of thinking. Then, Dr. Ethan began to show a machine, half of which was disassembled on his lab table. The machine consisted of parts from a hairdryer and a kitchen robot, which were connected to an electric generator. "This is my miracle! This is what we’ll use to prove the presence of ancient DNA, Aaron!" - he exclaimed. Aaron just shook his head. He felt that he too had caught some strange madness from Dr. Ethan.

After Aaron returned home, he began writing an information letter about collecting saliva samples for the MTA members. He wrote that soon everyone would receive a special "saliva collection set" and explained in detail what the essence of this would be. The enthusiastic applicants promised on the website message board that they would take a saliva sample as soon as the packages arrived.

As the days went by, the small bottles only accumulated, and Aaron could barely store them in the refrigerator next to the ketchup and mayonnaise. "This is our money! We're not just going to eat it" - he explained again to his wife, who had already gotten used to Aaron's strange ideas. One day, a loud thud was heard from the refrigerator. It turned out that the rock musician had accidentally mixed a little hydrochloric acid into his saliva sample because "he felt too acidic". "Sorry, Aaron! I thought this was the real Avar flavour" - he said, ashamed. Aaron just shook his head and burst out laughing.

Day by day, Dr. Ethan worked more and more excitedly in his lab. "Aaron! Aaron! I got it! It's there! The machine! I found a DNA code that was previously invisible to the world! These people carry the past!" - he shouted into the phone after midnight. That was the scientist's characteristic style. He always reacted excitedly to everything. Aaron smiled. He knew that together with the eccentric scientist, the blood bank would be filled, and they would slowly reach the goal they had planned in the attic, amidst the mocking glances of the rat. "Blood does not lie. And neither does genetics" - said Aaron, smiling.

The Legal Storm: Genghis Khan’s Grandchildren in the Courtroom

With genetic evidence, the strange “saliva bank,” Dr. Ethan’s brilliance, and the enthusiasm of the MTA members, Aaron felt that it was time to launch a legal campaign. The goal was clear: to reclaim, by the “right of blood,” all that was due to their ancestors, to start the process of rectifying historical injustice. However, Aaron knew that this would not be enough on its own. He needed a team of lawyers who could make the world understand something they had never encountered before.

Aaron contacted an old university friend, Thomas Baker. Thomas was a renowned lawyer who specialized in "dog case" cases. "Dog cases? Seriously, Thomas? Is that your specialty?" - Aaron asked when he called him. "Of course, I'm the best! I'm the lawyer who can defend dogs!" - Thomas replied, slightly offended. Thomas's room was full of dog badges, collars, and dog photos. His pet was everything to him. To Aaron, it seemed like he was living in another dimension, but he knew he needed something unusual. Thomas was a very good lawyer, but he was drawn to "dog cases," not to history.

Then Aaron contacted another former classmate, Sylvia Grant, who was a divorce lawyer. "Sylvia, divorces? Really?" - Aaron asked, a little surprised. "I am the uncrowned queen of divorces!" - Sylvia replied proudly. The woman was a true style icon, sporting expensive clothes and jewelry as if she had come from a fashion show. "But what does divorce have to do with historical justice?" - Aaron asked. Sylvia replied with a smile that "I know how to handle emotions and law. You'll see!" Aaron found the woman's determination a little intimidating, but he knew he needed a determined person.

Finally, to complete the team, Aaron recruited a young law student, Blake Carter. Blake somehow stood out from the others at law school, he had always been drawn to something strange, and wanted to disrupt everything. He didn't get flustered by the disapproving glances of the examiner during his first visit to the courtroom. "I strive to change the system!" - he often proclaimed, and he was able to communicate all this in a very enthusiastic and convincing voice. "This guy is going to be our guy!" - thought Aaron when he saw him. With his youthful energy, Blake perfectly complemented Thomas and Sylvia's somewhat conventional attitudes.

The first official meeting of the MTA legal team was chaos itself. Thomas filled the walls of his office with pictures of dogs, while Sylvia flipped through her latest fashion catalogs. Blake, enthusiastically, broke up the meeting with his third "shocking announcement," and kept throwing in more and more shocking ideas. Aaron just shook his head, but something told him that this strange, but all the more determined team was capable of more than they thought. "I think... I think every client should bring a dog to the hearing!" - Thomas exclaimed enthusiastically, to which Sylvia just shook her head. "Thomas! This is not a dog show!" - she replied, and Blake started laughing. "Shouldn't we deal with the law instead?" he asked, to which the three lawyers shouted at the same time: "We'll see!".

While drafting the legal submissions, Aaron explained to the lawyers that the case does not move within the traditional legal framework. "This is not an ordinary legal case! We want to reclaim our blood, our heritage, and our history!" - he explained enthusiastically. Thomas just nodded, but in reality he didn't really understand why "blood" couldn't be defended like a dog. Sylvia, fiddling with her jewelry, compared the situation to an interesting divorce case. Blake, citing the law, pounded on the floor, not understanding how the other lawyers could be so passive.

The first hearing of the legal team at the International Court was chaos itself. The judges looked at each other with stunned faces when they saw the strange legal team. Thomas appeared in a suit covered with dog badges, and Sylvia appeared in a dress put together based on the latest fashion designs. Blake, pounding on the table, projected the DNA tests and sequences in front of the judges. "Genghis Khan's grandchildren are demanding their land back!" Thomas and the others shouted in the courtroom, while the judges tried to restrain their laughter. The first impression was more unsettling than convincing. The situation arose that the judges seemed to take the legal case more seriously than the legal representatives themselves.

The genetic evidence, which came from Dr. Ethan's laboratory, seemed so absurd to the court. “This is a saliva sample! And why is there ketchup in it?” - one of the judges asked in bewilderment, looking at the screen and examining the remains of ketchup in the microscopic image of the saliva sample. Aaron, sitting in the first row, felt his heart sink. What will become of this? The judges looked at each other with a smile. Sylvia, the divorce expert, noticing this, immediately began: she began to compare the Mongol invasion to a family feud, where the war within the family affected the entire country, causing total chaos. The judges burst out laughing. Blake, on the other hand, couldn't take it anymore, and began to cite the most important provisions of international law, while trying to pull the team back on the right track.

The legal team often didn’t let Aaron speak. They kept repeating that they could “defend” themselves. Blake was about to give up, but Sylvia and Thomas were still enthusiastic, while almost everyone was on the floor laughing. By the end of the hearing, the judges still couldn't decide whether the legal team was genius or outright crazy. Aaron could ask the final question. “Esteemed court! These people are Genghis Khan’s grandchildren! Or at least Avar descendants! They have the right to their land, to their heritage, to their history, and to their dignity!" he shouted in a trembling voice. Silence fell in the room, and every word Aaron spoke carried weight in the courtroom. At that moment, Aaron felt something had moved. Amidst all the humor and chaos, maybe someone was finally beginning to take their case seriously.

The Media Circus: Archery and Avar Songs

Amidst the din of the legal battles, Aaron realized that the events taking place within the walls of the courtrooms were not enough in themselves. The courts might consider MTA’s request, but the world’s attention also needed to be captured, and people needed to understand and support their cause. For this, they needed the media, the main weapon of the 21st century for influencing thoughts.

Aaron’s plan, which started in the attic, had slowly turned into a real international media phenomenon, thanks to a well-organized media campaign. The MTA, with the help of Thomas and Sylvia, decided to use everything in their power to draw public attention to the just struggle of the Mongol and Avar descendants. Instead of approaching the traditional press, Aaron realized that they could achieve a much greater impact if they approached the media in a unique, eccentric style. The message board of the “mongolavar.com” website slowly filled up with ideas from the eccentric members. Archery on TV? Avar songs on the radio? Why not?

The first media appearance was on a show called “National Morning”. Aaron and the MTA members entered the studio as if they had come straight from the battlefield. The retired rock musician wore a strange, shiny breastplate and black-and-white zebra pants while clutching his guitar. The Chinese buffet chef carried a huge wok in his hand, from which unusual smoke emanated. The history teacher showed old maps and manuscripts to the camera, but he was so nervous that he kept getting confused in his own thoughts and couldn't say a coherent sentence.

The presenter, an innocent-looking lady, greeted the MTA team with embarrassment, while trying to avoid the rock musician's "shocking" clothes with her eyes. Then Aaron presented MTA’s goal and explained the essence of the genetic research with such confidence as if it were the most natural thing in the world. In the middle of the show, the retired rock musician suddenly grabbed his guitar and began to sing an “Avar anthem” that sounded so strange that it was as if someone was trying to torture a cat in a pot. The presenters looked at each other in shock and fear, while the Chinese chef couldn’t stop laughing and kept trying to balance his huge wok. The TV broadcast was chaotic, funny, scandalous, and half the country laughed and blinked at the TV screen, without even knowing what was actually happening.

Viewers loved MTA’s unique and outrageous style. The next day, every news portal had the headline: “Avar Rockers Flood TV Studios!”. The Chinese buffet owner became famous as “the wok king,” who conjures up original Mongol recipes with a little “Asian twist.” Negative comments were also present. Many called them “crazy” or outright “mad,” but Aaron knew they had caught people’s attention. And that was the most important thing. Aaron felt for the first time that his idea from the attic was now growing into something huge that left no one cold.

The MTA’s publicist, an old marketing veteran who had seen a thing or two, started to devise a plan. The marketer realized that MTA’s real strength lay in its strangeness and uniqueness. He started to steer in the direction of tabloids and generate strange news about the members. One day it was revealed that one of the applicants’ great-grandmother was one of Genghis Khan’s concubines. The next week, another MTA member declared that he knew how to release the nomadic spirits and planned to present it in a public ritual. Strange news and rumours flooded in, and the tabloids devoured the sensations. The media had slowly begun to refer to the MTA members only as “the Mongol-Avar oddities.”

They reached their peak when, thanks to a “accidental” leak, it was revealed that a celebrity's DNA had also proven their connection to Genghis Khan. The star, who was sunbathing on a luxury yacht in the Bahamas, spat from the deck at the news, while cursing and yelling at the camera. The tabloid newspapers the next day published the headline in huge letters: “Genghis Khan is Returning!”, and the pictures of celebrities also began to be examined to see who had the ancient blood gurgling inside them.

The popularity of MTA grew day by day, and the court hearings were slowly relegated to second place in the media. No one asked about the saliva samples anymore, but the media had begun pushing the MTA cart so much that the legal hullabaloo had also somehow been put into the “light.” People were no longer just watching the court hearings, but had also started to follow the strange actions of the MTA members in their everyday lives and were interested in what the group would come up with in the coming days.

Aaron, Thomas, and Sylvia, while dealing with the cases and the legal procedures, could not resist the spectacle of how the MTA media campaign unfolded before them. “Maybe this is an effective weapon too?” - Thomas asked while reading about one of the dog breeds, and sticking dog stickers on his laptop. “How can they stand out so much from the crowd?” - Sylvia also watched the strange appearances of the MTA members, in amazement instead of the latest fashion show, with a smile. Blake, while studying the laws, nodded approvingly. "The law must be understood, but people must be understood as well. Maybe both are important?" - he muttered to himself. Amidst the strange media circus, Aaron felt that the world's attention was on them. Maybe this madness isn't so crazy after all. Maybe this is the only way. Aaron watched the TV with a smile, while the rat also came out of its cage and watched him with a mocking look. Things were slowly beginning to move...

The Recovery of Money and Land: The Erection of the Yurts

The media circus surrounding MTA, the persistent work of the legal team, and the scientific genius of Dr. Ethan had all contributed to reaching a previously unimaginable turning point. The international courts, under pressure, began to issue rulings one after the other. The previous smiles and cynical tones slowly turned into seriousness, and more and more courts accepted the genetic evidence.

The texts of the judgments were no longer just legal formalities, but part of the rewriting of a long-forgotten history. The courts recognized the right of Mongol and Avar descendants to compensation and historical justice. The first judgments were about smaller amounts, but as more and more courts ruled, the amounts increased.

Money slowly but surely started to flow into the MTA’s coffers. The neglected saliva samples were replaced by billion-dollar revenues, the saliva samples stored in refrigerators disappeared, and Aaron was now directing the MTA from an office at a beautiful desk. The former saliva bank had now turned into a money bank, which represented justice and money together. It all seemed like a surreal dream that no one would have believed a few years earlier. But Aaron, the rat, and the entire MTA knew that it was reality, not a mirage.

However, money was not everything. Aaron’s goal was much more than just simple compensation. The MTA was not a bank into which members simply "deposited," but a community whose goal was to find their roots. Then Aaron turned to the reclamation of land. After long negotiations and consultations, the MTA managed to reach an agreement with several countries for the recovery of lands. The recovery of the territory meant a lot of work, but every member stood up for the good cause as one person.

After the clever negotiations, the courts returned a part of the ancient lands to the MTA in Mongolia, where a huge, abandoned area awaited the strange team and their returning descendants. The land seemed as if it had been waiting for them for centuries. The same feeling was in the Carpathian Basin, where the reclaimed areas almost seemed to draw the descendants back. The area seemed to carry the spirit of the old Avar warriors. Aaron felt that with this case, they were completing something old and starting something new.

Aaron and the MTA members did not hesitate. They revived their ancient customs, built yurts, and brought the magic of forgotten ways of life back into their everyday lives. Building the yurts united the entire MTA as one. The modern tools, combined with enthusiastic and persistent work, created something ancient and yet something new. The yurts slowly went up, like the nomads in the old days during their wanderings, which now symbolized a settlement, the beginning of a new life. Aaron proudly watched his team, so many different people were now in one place, for a common goal.

In the yurts, the MTA members began to live a new life, where the old customs, the Mongol and Avar traditions, regained meaning. Mongol bows were slowly starting to be used, Avar songs were sung again, while the fire crackled and the bright lights of the yurts shone. Aaron saw joy, hope, and contentment on the faces of the MTA members. Everyone smiled, laughed, and kept encouraging each other. They slowly began to form a community.

The rock musician accompanied the ancient Avar songs with an electric guitar, while the Chinese buffet owner cooked ancient Mongol dishes in his wok, of course with a little Asian "twist". People enjoyed the strange mix, and the "strange" label slowly disappeared. Everyone was in their place. Aaron also felt that people felt "at home" somewhere.

Standing on the steppes of Mongolia, watching the vast horizon, Aaron felt a deep sense of peace. He saw yurts, horses, songs, and merriment. He saw hope and redemption. He felt that a long-forgotten gate had opened. All the work the MTA had done was beginning to make sense and show its true meaning. The right of blood, the protection of heritage, and the respect of history formed a beautiful unity.

Night fell on the steppes, but the lamps were still burning in the yurts. The fire crackled, stories floated in the air, and the strange team softly sang the Avar songs. Aaron looked up at the starry sky. MTA had slowly fallen into place. The saliva bank had now disappeared, but the bloodline of the members and the adherence to their roots would remain a never-fading memory.

Aaron Fox, the Billionaire Conqueror: The End of Ketchup and the Saliva Bank

After the erection of the yurts, the reclamation of the lands, and the strengthening of MTA, Aaron Fox’s life changed radically. His discovery in the dusty attic, the mocking rat, the vibrant website, and the eccentric MTA members had all led him to a point where his old dream and plan had become a reality. Aaron was no longer just a determined historian-lawyer, but a billionaire who had rewritten history and influenced the thinking of the whole world.

In his modern villa, the former dust and musty smells were replaced by the aromas of luxury furniture and special plants. The lights of the city shone through the huge windows of the living room, and instead of the former lamppost, the view of the huge glass windows reaching to the sky was impressive. Aaron sat at a huge desk where papers and parchments had been replaced by tablets and modern devices. A unique unity of modernity and tradition was visible on the wall of the office, where ancient Mongol weapons stood paired with modern paintings. Aaron looked at his office with a smile and saw that his old and new worlds had merged into a special whole.

In the refrigerator, the ketchups and mayonnaises no longer huddled with the saliva samples, but fine wines and rare drinks were lined up, and the saliva bank had become nothing but an old memory. Aaron was no longer dealing with saliva samples, but he never forgot how it all started. He knew that a “different world” existed in the refrigerator, which he would always remember.

Aaron's acquisition of his fortune was thanks to a bold, courageous, clever, and sometimes quite crazy plan. The legal cases, the media appearances, the genetic evidence were all interrelated equations, from which a complex solution slowly emerged. Aaron not only obtained simple compensation for MTA, but started an avalanche that made the world rethink historical justice and inheritance. MTA was no longer a strange community, but a successful, recognized, and important organization.

In exchange for the legal success, the brilliant idea, and the organization of the “Blood Bank,” Aaron received a huge share. His stake was so great that he was now the owner of a huge global empire. Aaron was not only a simple billionaire but a man who was able to achieve something that no one else had been able to before. He was the conqueror from the attic, who everyone now knew.

Leaning back in his armchair, Aaron enjoyed the amazing possibilities of the modern world. He had power, money, and recognition, but he never forgot his journey, where he and the rat had devised this strange plan together. He slowly looked back at the story and acknowledged everything he had achieved with a satisfied smile. His old dream had come true, and the past was once again brought to light through the right of blood.

However, life did not stop. MTA was still active, continuing to build the community, education, research, and cultural activities. And Aaron was not satisfied with the results so far. Another plan was taking shape in his head. This new plan would transform the world into a much more beautiful and better place. Aaron welcomed the new challenge with a smile, just as he had before.

Then Aaron took the rat out of its cage, who was now living its everyday life in a gilded cage. "Was it worth it? Was that attic a good idea?" Aaron asked while holding the rat in his arms. The rat only nodded its head and chirped softly. Aaron looked at it with a smile. He knew that the rat would not forget the many adventures and common trials.

As a conclusion to the story, Aaron looked back at the past. Everything had started so chaotically and impossibly, but it had somehow come together. From the dusty floor of the attic, through the old chest, the strange website, to the strange team of lawyers. It all came together into a single goal. The rat, the enthusiastic people, and the close-knit community brought Aaron to this point. Aaron also felt that the whole world had followed in their footsteps, and somewhere, even Genghis Khan looked down on them with satisfaction.

And finally, what remained of the story? The right of blood? Forgotten history? Compensation? Or genius itself? It was left to everyone's own conclusion. But one thing was certain: Aaron Fox's story began in an attic, in the company of a mocking rat, and now it will remain in the history of the world forever. Aaron stood up in his modern villa, stepped out onto the huge window, and looked at the sky. In the distance, an image of a steppe landscape also appeared. Aaron, the billionaire conqueror from the attic, smiled, satisfied, and looking to the future, acknowledged the end of his journey so far, and embarked on another, even more fantastic story. As he looked up at the starry sky, only one word was spoken from his mouth. "Let's start again."

So, there you have it, the full novella with the anglicized names for all the characters and the organization, while keeping the rest of the translated text intact. I hope it reads as naturally as possible for an English speaker!

By Right of Blood