The afternoon sun slanted through the cafe window, casting a warm glow over the scattered cards on our table. My friend Leo stared at his hand, a familiar mix of concentration and frustration on his face. Across from him, Sarah was trying, and failing, to hide a triumphant smirk. We were three rounds into our weekly card game session, and I was witnessing the same pattern unfold that I’d seen a hundred times before: one player, armed with a shaky grasp of the basics, charging headlong into a complex strategy, only to be neatly dismantled by someone who understood the rhythm of the game. It was a scene that, oddly enough, made me think of a video game I’d been playing lately. I’d just finished the Claws of Awaji DLC for Assassin’s Creed Shadows, and the feeling was strangely similar. The review snippet I’d read nailed it: "a few changes to the cat-and-mouse formula... make for a more engaging gameplay loop, but the persisting narrative issues leave the ending... feeling barebones." That’s exactly what was happening here on the card table. Leo had learned a new "change to the formula"—a slick move to shed high-point cards—but because he didn’t understand the fundamental "narrative" of the game, his victories felt hollow and his losses were catastrophic. He was all tactics, no strategy. Watching him, I knew exactly what he needed. He didn’t just need to know how to play; he needed to understand why certain moves worked. He needed to master Tongits: essential rules and winning strategies for the card game.
I took a sip of my coffee, the bitter taste anchoring me in the moment. "Okay, let's rewind," I said, gathering the cards. "You're focusing on the wrong thing, Leo. You see Sarah winning with big melds, so you think that's the only path. But Tongits isn't just about building the tallest tower; it's about knowing when to lay the foundation and when to sabotage your neighbor's." I began to deal a fresh hand, the soft shush of cards on wood a comforting sound. The core rules are deceptively simple: be the first to go out by forming melds (sets or runs) and getting rid of your cards, while minimizing the deadwood points in your hand. But within that framework lies a universe of nuance. The initial draw, the decision to "knock" or play on, the psychological warfare of the discard pile—it’s a delicate dance. I remember when I first started, I treated every hand like a sprint. I’d aggressively draw from the deck, chasing perfect sequences, and I’d lose, consistently, to players who seemed to be doing less. It was infuriating. It took me probably 50 to 60 games—and a lot of lost pocket money—to realize I was playing a solo game at a multiplayer table.
This is where the Claws of Awaji analogy really hits home for me. The DLC introduced new tools, like the enhanced chain assassination, which changed the "gameplay loop" of pursuit. Similarly, in Tongits, learning a specific strategy—like holding onto a key middle card (say, a 7 of hearts) to block a potential run—is a new tool. It makes the act of playing more engaging. But if you don't understand the overarching "narrative," which in Tongits is the flow of probability and opponent psychology, your ending will feel "barebones." You might win a hand with a clever block, but you'll lose the match because you didn't manage your point exposure across multiple rounds. Sarah is a master of this narrative. She plays the long game. She might sacrifice a small meld early to mislead us about her hand, holding onto a seemingly useless card that becomes the linchpin for a game-winning move three draws later. She reads the discard pile like a book. If I discard an 8 of diamonds, and she doesn't pick it up, I can be almost 80% certain she’s not collecting diamonds or building a run around the 8. That’s invaluable information.
My personal preference, and what I believe is the most underrated winning strategy, is aggressive pile monitoring. I don't just watch for cards I need; I try to build a mental model of what everyone else needs. It’s exhausting, but it pays off. If I see Leo pick up a 5 of clubs from the discard, and later a 3 of clubs, I’m going to hold onto that 4 of clubs for dear life, even if it temporarily worsens my own hand. Blocking is just as important as building. Another crucial tip is point management, especially in a 3-player game. Going out first is great, but if you leave with 15 points in your hand and the next player goes out with a 5-point hand, you’ve just taken second place in a race you thought you won. Sometimes, the winning move is to not go out immediately, but to slowly defang your hand, reducing your point risk before making your final play. I’d estimate that in about 30% of my wins, I wasn't the first to declare "Tongits." I was the one with the lowest score when someone else did.
Back at the cafe, I saw a flicker of understanding in Leo’s eyes. We played another round. This time, he didn’t immediately pounce on the first potential meld. He watched. He hesitated. He discarded a card that seemed safe but was actually a subtle probe. Sarah raised an eyebrow. The dynamic had shifted. He didn’t win that hand—Sarah still had his number—but he lost with 7 points instead of 25. He was starting to see the whole story, not just the flashy climax. That’s the real journey. Anyone can memorize the rules of Tongits. But to truly master Tongits: essential rules and winning strategies for the card game, you have to move beyond the mechanics and start composing your own narrative within the game, understanding that each discard is a sentence, each pick-up a plot twist, and the final meld a conclusion that should feel earned, not accidental. It’s the difference between simply completing a quest and understanding why your character embarked on the journey in the first place. And that, to me, is where the real fun begins.
