Chapter 33: Good Brothers

Somewhere in the city.

At the end of a narrow, dim alley, though still within the urban district, it felt as if cut off from the world.

This was an area only those who knew the correct path could enter.

A bar.

Soft light cast mottled shadows around, the air mingling the scents of alcohol and tobacco with something even more turbid and heavy. An old-fashioned phonograph played an eerie melody, each note seeming to merge into the omnipresent shadows.

It was as if invisible darkness shrouded the entire space.

This was a gathering place for Dark Duelists.

Yet it was not the only one. Although Dark Duels remained mere street rumors to ordinary citizens—just as in the first season of the GX anime, where Jaden once believed in science and refused to accept the reality of Dark Duels—in truth, so many years had passed since the DM era that underground networks for Dark Duels had now been established all over the world.

And Dark Duelists, like assassins who could not stand the light, were scattered across various regions.

Among them were many freelancers who accepted commissions through the underground network, taking money to carry out missions. There also existed certain related organizations.

The emergence of such a situation was actually an inevitable trend of development. After all, Dark Duels were simply too convenient and too versatile, leaving various traditional methods of assassination and espionage far behind.

Through card games, one could eliminate a target without firing a single shot or leaving any trace; if necessary, by adding supplementary restrictions when initiating a Dark Duel, one could even pulverize bones and scatter ashes, literally grinding even cremated remains into particles, leaving absolutely no trace to be found.

Moreover, what they could do was not limited to assassination. As long as one won a life-or-death duel against certain figures holding key positions or wielding great power, one could easily pry open anyone's mouth to obtain any classified intelligence, or directly brainwash them into obeying one's every command, thereby influencing major events in even the business or political spheres.

Of course, where there is a spear, there must be a shield; the rise of such dark professions naturally drew the attention of high society to these threats. Hence, in these times, important figures either possessed extraordinary dueling skills themselves or always kept duel bodyguards by their sides.

This bar, named "Blood Moon," was precisely such an organization where Dark Duelists gathered.

The bartender was a woman with scarlet pupils, boasting eye-catching curves of maximum level, and she did not hesitate to generously display her extraordinary gifts to her colleagues.

This was also why, during meetings, ninety percent of the time her colleagues' gazes remained fixed on her—even though she hardly said a word.

A man in a suit at the bar slowly drank a glass of wine, set down his cup, and leisurely said, "One of our comrades has left us."

"Oh."

"Regrettable."

"Pity."

The colleagues expressed their regret one after another, yet their gazes never shifted even once. The beautiful bartender swirled her wine glass with elegant and practiced motions; the liquid spun within the cup, and the movement of her arm caused the rest of her body to sway as well, eliciting a chorus of "ohs" from the crowd below.

The man in the suit looked somewhat displeased: "We have lost a compatriot; could you at least pretend to care a little?"

Someone pointed out, "But weren't you also staring over there the whole time while speaking?"

The man in the suit pondered for two seconds, then declared with righteous confidence, "I couldn't help it."

This immediately sparked bursts of laughter, filling the bar with a cheerful atmosphere.

"But seriously, Onizuka was my good brother," the man in the suit said in a deep voice. "We knew each other before joining the organization. I cannot pretend nothing happened."

The man with the center-parted hairstyle beside him advised, "We are all people of the underworld; we all know the rules. Win and you live, lose and you die. After so many duels, so many lives and deaths..."

"Sometimes you win, sometimes you die; that is just how it is. Onizuka himself knew this long ago."

"Besides," another person nearby said, "do you even know who made the move? Who among us in the underworld doesn't have ten or eight enemies?"

"The night before Onizuka left headquarters this time, he was still drinking with me, saying he had heard rumors that the so-called legendary duelist Ryuuzaki was preparing to reappear in the world," the man in the suit said in a deep voice.

"Onizuka was very interested in this. As a fellow user of dinosaur cards, he had often said before that he wanted to seek out that Ryuuzaki for a match..."

"Good heavens, that is a legendary duelist," the center-parted man said. "Are you sure you have thought this through, Fujimoto? Moreover, Onizuka's dueling strength was not poor; if even he could not win, then..."

"Good heavens, that's the legendary Duelist," said the center-parted hair. "Are you sure you've thought this through, Fujimoto? Moreover, Onizuka's dueling prowess is no joke; if even he can't win..."

The man called Fujimoto smiled slightly, extinguished his cigarette in an ashtray, and then gazed upward at a forty-five-degree angle beneath the swirling smoke.

"There are times when a man must step up. Besides, we duelists, if we always rest content with the status quo and dare not challenge the strong, how can we ever improve further?"

The center-parted man squinted as he sized him up: "If you are so eager to improve, then go challenge Yugi Muto."

Fujimoto, who had been putting on airs, was instantly choked up; he held back for several seconds before speaking in a muffled tone.

"...Yugi Muto is too strong."

After all, he meant challenging the strong to surpass peaks and gain improvement, not going to his death.

Knowing full well the win rate was zero and still going up would be purely giving oneself away for nothing.

Fujimoto let out a faint sigh and began reminiscing about the past.

"Onizuka and I were both people abandoned by the dueling world. We met through underground duels... Back then, I made a promise with him that if anything unforeseen happened to him, I would take care of his wife and children."

"But I never expected he would depart so hastily, leaving behind no offspring at all, only a gentle and beautiful girlfriend waiting for me to take care of."

In that case, wouldn't the matter of sons and daughters fall to me to solve personally for my brother?

Thinking of this, he could not help but shake his head repeatedly, sighing deeply at how hard life was.

A burly man nearby patted his shoulder: "Big brother, do not be too sad. If Brother Onizuka has a spirit in heaven and knows he has such a reliable brother as you, he should be able to depart with comfort."

"You speak the truth." Fujimoto patted his hand and nodded.

Then suddenly, he felt an inexplicable chill run down his spine.

"Hmm? Did you just suddenly feel a gust of cold wind blow past?"

The big man blinked in confusion: "No."

"Strange... Could it be that Brother Onizuka is urging me to avenge him?"

Fujimoto lifted his head to the sky and said with solemn expression, "Brother Onizuka, rest assured; I will soon find out where that bastard Dinosaur Ryuuzaki is, drag his soul into the darkness as well, and avenge your grievance!"

Elsewhere.

After his crushing defeat at the Moonlight Cup, Dinosaur Ryuuzaki's comeback had failed, so he returned once again to seclusion, seriously studying his deck anew.

He had originally been full of confidence, thinking that this emergence from seclusion would make a huge splash; who could have expected that in the end he would pull off a colossal failure. The king had failed to return triumphantly and instead had handed his head to a mere novice fresh out of the gate.

Especially since that novice's record before this tournament was completely blank, one could imagine that henceforth, whenever that guy showed his face, everyone's first reaction would surely be: Holy crap, isn't that the guy who utterly crushed Ryuuzaki?

In other words, the farther that newcomer advanced and the more he appeared, the more times he would be whipped as a corpse.

After secluding himself for so many years, failing to take off was bad enough; but to fail and furthermore become nothing more than a background prop—who could endure that?

"Fujiki You Xuan... Very well, I have remembered you."

Ryuuzaki muttered coldly to himself.

He had no choice but to find another opportunity to challenge him to a rematch.

If he did not find that boy and win back his honor within a day, he would have to continue bearing this stain until this joke spread wider and wider.

Just as he was thinking this, his nose suddenly tickled inexplicably, and he let out a sneeze: "Ah-choo!"

"Strange, why do I suddenly feel a bit cold behind my back?"

Ryuuzaki wiped his nose inexplicably.

What was this feeling of inexplicably seeming to be remembered by someone?

(End of Chapter)

What is going on that I inexplicably feel like someone is fixated on me?

(End of Chapter)