Sector Security’s cordon surrounded the cavern, while a hooded figure stood motionless in the shadows some distance away.
He kept his head lowered and watched for a while before finally turning away and disappearing into the maze of dark alleys that crisscrossed Satellite.
The ruined streets twisted endlessly between rusted sheets of metal and broken walls that cut the daylight into narrow strips.
The hooded man moved through them until he reached the base of a partially collapsed building.
He pushed open a corroded iron door, and cold, damp air immediately washed over him.
Candlelight flickered inside the old basement, where several people were already waiting.
Their matching clothing made their identities as members of the same cult obvious.
The man closed the door behind him.
“How did it go?” one of them immediately asked.
The hooded man slowly removed his hood, revealing a grim expression.
“Sector Security sealed off the cavern.
Even that dog Goodwin came in person.
I couldn’t get close enough to inspect the site myself, so I used one of the secret arts granted by our lord to listen in from a distance.” His voice grew heavier.
“The ritual site was devastated.
Every one of our brethren who participated in the ceremony is dead.” One of the cultists frowned.
“How could that happen?” “There seems to have been something unusual about the sacrifice,” the man replied.
“I overheard Sector Security discussing traces of another power at the scene…
something different from our own faction, belonging to an existence of a much higher order.” Another cultist looked startled.
“Another entity interfered with our ritual?
Could it have been something from the Netherworld…?” “It’s too early to say.” The hooded man shook his head.
“But Sector Security also confirmed that every corpse they found belonged to one of us.
The intended sacrifice was nowhere to be found.” His eyes narrowed.
“Whatever happened, that sacrifice is almost certainly at the center of it.” “So who was he?” another cultist asked.
“No one knows.
The brethren responsible for selecting the sacrifice also died at the ritual site.
All we know is that he was apparently a temporary laborer chosen from one of the factories.” The hooded man considered that for a moment.
“He hasn’t been away from the ritual site for long.
There should still be traces of our lord’s presence clinging to him.
If he hasn’t traveled too far, I may still be able to track him.” The other cultists immediately looked encouraged.
“If the Dark Ritual Priest goes personally, finding him should be easy.” The man known within the Order as the Dark Ritual Priest merely shook his head, his expression remaining grave.
“We know nothing about him.
At the moment, I can’t even determine what kind of existence we’re dealing with.
But if we wait too long, whatever trace remains will disappear, and we may never learn his identity.” He paused.
“I have no choice but to take the risk.” One cultist stared at him in surprise.
“Are you saying…
this enemy might be someone even you can’t defeat?” “I can’t say for certain, but I can’t rule it out.” The Dark Ritual Priest looked around at everyone in the room.
“If I haven’t returned by this time tomorrow, leave this area immediately and report everything to His Excellency the Bishop.” After a brief silence, he reached beneath his black robe and removed a Deck from one card case.
Then, from a second case kept separate from the first, he drew out a single card.
Even before it was activated, the card radiated an unmistakably ominous presence.
Simply taking it out seemed to place an invisible pressure over everyone in the basement.
One of the cultists held his breath.
“Is that…
the cursed card bestowed upon you by the Bishop?” The Dark Ritual Priest nodded.
“It can only be wielded with the user’s own blood, and every activation consumes part of the duelist’s lifespan.
But the power granted in exchange is far beyond that of an ordinary card.” He slid the cursed card into his Deck.
“I have a feeling…” The Deck clicked into place inside his Duel Disk.
“Against this opponent, I may not have the luxury of holding anything back.” …
“This should be the general store…” Following the sign, Yusuke stepped inside.
The shop had been pieced together from rusting sheets of metal, with small gaps in the roof allowing shafts of daylight to fall through.
Cheap snacks and battered card boxes were piled haphazardly across the shelves.
The store itself seemed empty.
There was no sign of the owner.
Yusuke had barely stepped through the entrance when a figure suddenly jumped out behind him.
That was…
Elemental HERO Avian?
Green bodysuit, wings that had lost an alarming number of feathers, and a noticeable beer belly straining against the costume…
A middle-aged, overweight Elemental HERO Avian was currently standing behind him and waving his arms in what was presumably meant to be a threatening pose.
The sight was so ridiculous that Yusuke simply stared.
The “Avian” seemed disappointed by his complete lack of reaction.
He pulled off the mask, revealing a round middle-aged face.
“Come on, nothing?
Not even a little surprised?” Yusuke remained silent for a moment.
“Uncle Rud, that costume looks way too plastic.
Most guys your age start losing hair.
Your Avian is losing feathers instead…” Rud looked down at the rapidly thinning plumage on his homemade costume and sighed.
“Well, I made it out of stuff I found in Satellite’s junk heaps.
This is about as good as the materials get.” He gave Yusuke an aggrieved look.
“You’ve gotten no fun at all.
You and Yukine used to get excited every time you saw this.” “By ‘used to,’ you mean when we were kids, right?” Yusuke replied.
“We’re a little old to be dreaming about becoming heroes now.” On the way here, he had spent quite a while digging through what little remained of the original body memories.
Eventually, he had vaguely remembered that the Fujishiro siblings had always been fairly close to the shopkeeper.
Rud sighed dramatically.
“A man is a boy until the day he dies.
Who hasn’t dreamed of being a hero at least once?” He walked back behind the counter.
“So, what are you here for?
I’m warning you now, though—I don’t have any spare cards to give you today.” The Fujishiro siblings had lost their parents when they were young.
Two orphaned children surviving on their own in Satellite naturally hadn’t had an easy life, and Rud had helped them many times over the years.
Given Fujishiro Yusuke’s finances, even assembling his original Deck of mostly Normal Monsters had been difficult.
Quite a few of those cards had actually come from Rud, who had picked them out of piles of unwanted cards that nobody wanted to buy and simply given them to him.
Even Yusuke’s ace, Summoned Skull, had been a birthday present from Rud the previous year.
Summoned Skull might have been a Normal Monster, but 2500 ATK was still impressive, especially for a Level 6 monster that required only one Tribute to Normal Summon.
By the standards of Satellite, it had plenty of practical value.
On top of that, Summoned Skull had been one of the signature monsters used by the original King of Games, Yugi Muto, during his rise to fame more than thirty years earlier.
That association alone gave the card considerable popularity.
For a poor orphan living in Satellite, a gift like that had been genuinely valuable.
“I know,” Yusuke said.
“I’m just looking around today.” He began browsing through the shop, partly because he wanted to learn what kinds of cards were actually circulating in Satellite and how much they were worth.
After digging through the stock for a while, he unexpectedly found another copy of a card he had already acquired.
Axe of Fools.
Yusuke picked it up and turned toward Rud.
“How much for this?” Rud glanced at the card and shook his head.
“That’s a rare one.
Don’t bother getting your hopes up.
You can’t afford it.” “I know.
I’m just asking.
What’s the price?” “Five thousand DP.
Fixed price, and no credit.” Yusuke sucked in a breath.
Five thousand DP for one card?
Even if he somehow found factory work every single day and spent absolutely nothing on food or anything else, an entire month of hard labor still wouldn’t be enough to buy it.
Then another thought occurred to him.
“Hey, Rud.
How much would one copy of Mirror Force cost?” Mirror Force was a powerful Trap that could destroy all Attack Position monsters on the opponent’s field when they declared an attack.
Among Yu-Gi-Oh!
players, it was one of the most famous battle Traps in the game’s history.
Yugi Muto had used it all the way back in the first generation, and variants and appearances of the card had continued across multiple generations of the franchise.
In the early eras of the game, it had been an absolute nightmare to attack into.
Rud laughed.
“You want Mirror Force now?
Dream on.
A card that powerful isn’t going to end up floating around Satellite.” “So you can only get one in the city?” Yusuke asked.
“I’m just curious.
How much would a copy cost there?” “I haven’t kept up with city prices in a while, but if I remember right…” Rud answered as casually as though he were discussing the price of groceries.
“Somewhere around three hundred to four hundred thousand DP.” Yusuke stared at him.
“…” Three to four hundred thousand?
For one copy of Mirror Force?
‘Fuck.’ Apparently, some things never changed.
What kind of idiot tried to play Yu-Gi-Oh!
without money?