"Sorry, everyone, that means I win," said the man across the table. "Well, Mr. Otogi, our banker, most of the money under your hand's mine. Oh no, don't bother to push your chips this way, just handing me the money will be fine. Yes…," he pushed himself away from the table after collecting his money from Otogi. "You're the banker… it makes sense. You live to hand out money to those who are successful," a feral grin spread across his face, "You are beneath me. Never forget that."

"Honey!" Nothing that came from this tone of voice ever influenced him. She was being affectionate, playful, "You'll waste our savings on these silly games of yours! And we have a baby coming in just a few weeks, don't forget!" "My darling…," Otogi said, moving over to Shinori, "Do not worry. In just a few days, gambling shall not merely be a financial salvation for us. No, more than that, it will be a perpetual wellspring upon which we can thrive, and I promise you," he put his hand on her stomach, caressing what was stirring inside rather than her, "whoever's coming to join our family will enjoy its rewards." She giggled impetuously, "Why can't you just call him a baby?" "It's all arranged," he went on, "Tommorow, I'll be leaving to meet with my mentor. He has something that I can use."

"Are you sure that you want to do this?" His demeanor was always strong, but Otogi saw a new harshness etched into its lines. "Why?"

"Our money is dwindling. I need the symbol of the game king to drive me to victory… and after we've gotten back on our feet, only honor lies ahead…"

Sugoroku shook his head disapprovingly and tossed it back, leaving Otogi to bear the weight of his dark, menacing eyes, "You have a baby boy on the way, don't you?" He sighed, "I would think he'd want his father before riches and prestige. You're risking both of our lives on this game. Now-," Sugoroku's face loosed any sympathy it had shown and hardened into the unmistakable demeanor of the confident game master, "I'm doing this because I have faith in my pupil, no matter how foolish that may seem."

"My motives are true, Sugoroku, you are indeed foolish to accept, because you will lose."

Sugoroku's expression remained unchanged, only the flickering candlelight struggled to allow his face as many intimidating angles as possible. Otogi couldn't help but shrink back, "I will do this, I have faith… if for no other reason than to teach you a lesson."

"Well, Gentlemen…"

No.

"Let me show you what I have."

It's not real.

His hand swooped down, but he held his cards close.

"Mr. Otogi…"

Now they were flat on the table, and his hands flew apart to either side for all of the table to see his hand.

Slowly, deliberately, Sugoroku picked up his piece and placed it on the next place on the board. Over and over… Otogi knew Sugoroku was watching him, seeing the impact of every little "clump".

"You are beneath me. Never forget that."

Over and over in his mind…

It was all over. Dead silence settled.

"I can't stop it," Sugoroku said, and began letting his head fall to the floor. Suddenly, he stopped and looked directly at Otogi bracingly.

"Sugoroku… what are you-"

And ugly scream ripped the air, and a tornado immediately solidified over the board and twisted madly onto Otogi's forehead. He'd never felt anything like it. It had teeth, like a leech. Vitality, the substance of life itself, was being sucked into that vicious being. The velocity of it all had the entire room spinning in a mad whirlwind. Otogi never noticed the candles go out. And once again, for the second time that evening, it was all over.

Otogi lay crumpled on the floor. He expected any moment for his energy to settle and for him to get up as though nothing had happened. It was just a shock, he was breathless, and this is what he told himself. Slowly, with much trouble, he risked bringing a hand to where he'd been struck.

Lines. Surely, though, the beast had just warped his face by sucking so fiercely. His hand continued to move down his face. Soon those lines became divergent. His face was entirely in wrinkles. His energy never came back.

"What… what have you done to me?" wheezed Otogi.

"I gave you the game that I promised you," said Sugoroku. "The type of game that has to be played in order to dub a worthy game master is one in which you place the greatest risks. You become a master because you overcome the greatest challenges, and sometimes you earn a little recognition because you also earn the greatest results. But this… this is for the better, believe me. Take your old body back home and settle down. Be there and be the father that your son will need."

With every ounce of will still in him, Otogi wrestled back old age and got to his feet. "No, he'll be better off if I can win our family a fortune…," and despite his new body he raced for the table and blindly fingered every inch in the darkness. "Our ante… you didn't bring it?" he said finally.

"I only have an idea as to its whereabouts, and I decided that whomever left this game in the same shape they sat down in would be capable of pulling of the search."

Otogi had been beaten fairly. Sugoroku held no magical emblems which led him to victory. Bellowing, he swept the board game they had just played into his arms and charged outside.

Otogi was very careful to make no noise when opening the door. Shinori could be anywhere. He quickly drew a sleeve up to his face, with the game tucked safely under the other arm, and cautiously stepped into the living room. Searching underneath the sleeve for a source of light in the house, he finally deduced that Shinori was in the bathroom. A few moments' reprieve. He made his way into the bedroom, the television was on. She would be back in a few moments. He stared out of the window at nothing. Finally, he heard the patter of her feet. He turned on his heel, slowly, bracingly, and the television's dim circulation of lights caught the perfect leer on his face. First she screamed, but she recognized his coat, but she was nevertheless frightened. "O-Otogi…? A mask… why? I don't understand the joke…"

He claimed that it was at her suggestion that he wore a clown mask. She couldn't help but cry. She never did before. But she couldn't deal with what had happened to her handsome-faced, dark-haired husband. She shrieked that he wouldn't even be fit to handle their coming newborn with such a demeanor.

The newborn came. Not alive. It was stillborn. The medical explanation didn't matter; Otogi was convinced it was the grief of his stupid wife, her irresponsibility and lack of faith. "Despite all of your vows, you let this happen?" he bellowed, gripping her upper arm as though in a clamp. "I'm sorry!" she shrieked pathetically between sobs. "I'm sorry!" "Do you know who did this to me?" he asked Shinori maliciously. "Y-your mentor!" she said, no longer looking at him, but now on the ground with her face in her hands and tears pouring through them.

"Are your vows still true?! Will you stay with me?! You still owe me a son!"

"Yes, yes, I know… I will!"

"Listen…," with this assurance from Shinori, he was willing to allow his tone to become consoling. "Listen, you're still my darling. You and I both know that age will never change that. Now… Sugoroku-"

"Why must you constantly talk about-"

"Silence, bitch!" and he followed up his demand with a strike of the hand.

After her bawling had subsided to the merest tears, he continued, "He knows that I have nothing left to lose, darling. He won't challenge me any more. However, bear me a son, and we can exact my revenge in the next generation. Do this for me and my wrath shall be consoled. Please, darling…"

Ryuji was born. Over his crib Otogi nailed a hook to the low ceiling and hung a pair of fuzzy dice from it. The baby batted at them playfully, blissfully unaware. One time, when Otogi wasn't around, Shinori came in and held Ryuji lovingly, looked at the dice with a grimace and told him, "Your father's still chasing a fantasy. But don't tell him I told you so. He wouldn't believe either of us and he'd just get mad."

It wasn't long until after Shinori left. Otogi fought her decision only enough in order to amuse himself, and then willingly let her escape. She wasn't useful anymore now, he had Ryuji. Where Sugoroku said that Otogi couldn't seek out the ultimate secret of the gaming master due to age, he would play on the advantage of youthfulness and vitality through his son.

"Games aren't meant to be played for 'fun'. I don't care what your peers tell you. You must win."

Several years later, Ryuji settled down in front of the television and turned on his Playstation console. He loaded the memory for Gitaroo Man and began playing. Easy, he just wanted to play for fun. Then the door opened. Without looking, Ryuji knew that his father had walked in, his wheezing breath prominent even over the commotion the television was making. Ryuji noticed that he was pushing the buttons harder than he normally would have.

Wheeze. Wheeze.

Ryuji let out a soft groan as an unnecessary statement of the small struggle he was having with the game.

Wheeze. Wheeze.

Now he was nervous. For a few moments, the screen blurred and he was relying on instinct to carry him through the stage. He was too focused on his father's wheezing, and then…

MISS

A forceful blow connected to the back of Ryuji's head. He forced himself to play for a few more seconds as he heard his father trundle out of the room, then he put down the controller.

Revenge. That is what Ryuji had been raised from birth to carry out. As he walked toward Domino High School, he looked back at his residence's window. He saw the masked face of his father peering through it. "I know, father" he said, confident that the unheard gesture was making his father happy. "Today I'll meet Yugi Muto, I'll learn his abilities. Let the games begin."