Dog Days are the hottest, most sultry days of the summer, and when Joey and Kaiba are invited to a Duel Monster's Tournament hosted by Lepanto Corporation which takes place on a luxury cruise ship, they have no idea how sultry it can get...

- ciel lacasse :) ai no nai


After successful completion of their junior year, many students would have gladly slept well past sun up on the first day of summer break; however, two such students would not. The less privileged of the two, a handsome young man woke to the buzzing of his alarm clock at forty minutes past four o'clock in the morning: another day, another day of work. His shaggy, shoulder length, blond hair and long side swept bangs, frequently fell into and complemented his chocolate brown eyes. He stripped the cheap threadbare sheet off of his body, moist with perspiration from a hot summer night without the luxury of air-conditioning. He got up, carefully maneuvering through the small, cramped, and dark room, not bothering to toggle the light switch; their electricity had been shut off in the last week of school. Trying his best to see, he squinted into the cracked and dirty mirror in their bathroom, looking at the damage from last night's beating. Without immediate success and ample time, he gave up and began preparing for work.

After a cold shower and attending to personal hygienic needs, he stumbled back through his room, looking for his work outfit. Upon locating it, he dressed and felt his way along the wall until reaching the door knob. He quietly turned it and did his best to prevent the squeaky door from waking up his father. Wheeler senior lay draped across the couch, in a drunken sleep, with beer cans scattered across him and an ash tray laying close by. Having taken in so much alcohol, there was virtually no chance that he would wake up... virtually.

There had been a time when Joey had assumed just that and, not careful had woken his irritable and violent father. He didn't remember specifically what had happened next, just a lot of pain. The next morning he woke up in their kitchen, bruised and bleeding. Not intending for a repeat of that any time soon, he crept across the living room floor and to the door, where his shoes sat. He snatched them and fled out the paint chipped door, and into the hallway that connected his run down apartment with so many others just like it. He ran into the stairwell and took the steps two at a time; his heart racing as he made a great escape into the lobby. Their walls, similar to everything else in the dingy complex, were an ugly shade of chipping green paint. The carpet, even more repulsing, was brown. It had been a burnt orange when first installed ten years ago. He quickly slipped into his scuffed black shoes. He pushed the front door open, and was careful to let it shut and lock automatically behind him. Then uneasiness settled in.

He began the long walk to the bus stop looking over his shoulder the entire time, more an instinct or habit than actual fear. Nightlife in this part of town never died; it just slowed, but five in the morning was not a time of intense partying, crime, or violence. Despite this, the streets always maintained their eerie and dangerous vibe. Joey quickened his pace and stuck, as common sense told him, to lighted streets. He reached the stop with a few minutes to spare and sat down on the bench waiting. The sky groaned and fat raindrops began to fall down. The bench, covered by an awning attached to an old, abandoned restaurant, remained dry. There was a time, before the town had digressed too far from the respectable path, that this restaurant was a great social hot spot that Joey frequented. He sat on the bench and let his mind wonder, but before his mind could recede too deeply into thought, the bus arrived, and Joey quickly climbed upon it, paid his fee, and found an empty seat. He glanced out the window at the rain and caught sight of his reflection. His left cheek had nasty purple bruises running from his lower lip to eye. His lip was split and swollen slightly. "Shit," he muttered, bringing his hand up to gently prod his cheek bone.


Miles away, another youth didn't enjoy the privilege of sleeping in, for he had not slept to begin with. This was not a personal choice, for there was much work to be done managing his successful business; however, suffering from insomnia would have made getting rest difficult had he wanted it. This millionaire teenager was chased after by most daughters of society, but their interest in him was routed deeper than just his eight digit salary. He was attractive, with blue eyes, and brown hair, falling just passed his shoulders, layering and creating side swept bangs. His complexion was flawless, just like every other part of his body.

He sat in his home office, the satin curtains pulled tight as a thunder storm raged on outside. The lighting on the drop ceiling fan was dimmed. The room was about five feet taller than most others, giving it a loftier feel. The walls, painted a rich teal, were accented with an oak wood floor stained a dark brown. A Persian rug was stationed in front of his desk which was a similar shade of the brown on the floor. Two brown leather armchairs sat opposite the desk. The wall behind him was completely covered with large windows which, if open, looked out into the finely manicured lawn.

He was preparing a presentation for the board of directors proposing the new budget for Kaiba Corporation's upcoming fiscal new year. In theory, this should have been handled by his Chief Financial Officer, Krump; however, he was an incompetent twit who was not qualified to do his job, having attempted the presentation thrice already. Seto, who was no full, had made him give the presentation to himself first, giving it to the board of directors only if Seto had given approval. That approval never came, and so he was stuck, once again, putting in extra time because of somebody else's screw up. Once again, he would pat Mokuba's head and explain why he wouldn't be able to make it home for dinner again. Once again, he'd use that same, old phrase, "Sorry, kid, I'm busy. I've got work to do."

A knocking on the office door echoed off the high ceiling and walls. "Yes, come in," Seto called, barley sparing a glance from the glowing monitor. A strikingly beautiful woman appeared in the doorway, caring a tray. He nodded hello, and accepted the breakfast she offered him.

"Blueberry Scones today, sir, and a freshly brewed espresso," she reported. He nodded, but his thank you came off sounding insincere. Before leaving, the kitchen hand put the June edition of the Wall Street Journal off to the side of his desk. He didn't even spare a glance in its direction, having decided to read it later, when he wasn't quite so busy. Had he glanced at the cover, he would have noticed a man, perhaps of Middle Eastern Origins, with a dark complexion, wearing an expensive black suit with accentuating white pinstripes. His eyes were brown, but nearly black, holding no warmth inside. A scar ran vertical across the man's cheek, close to his ear, beginning near the temple and running beyond the white collar of his crisp shirt. The man held a contraption similar to the Kaiba Corp Duel Disk, but without card zones. The important man on the cover was smiling, and with a heading like Dungeon Dice Disks Power's Lepanto Corporation's Growth, what CEO wouldn't be?


Joey arrived at work on time. Light House Harbor, a country club like retirement home for affluent senior citizens in upper Domino City, was essentially the ideal place to end up. With a spa and salon, pool, ocean front view, social functions, gym, billiard table and fine restaurant styled dining, it was an oasis of luxury. The dining room, where Joey worked as a dish washer and utility, was the nicest place he'd ever seen. He had many tasks to accomplish, including preparing the desert cart, scooping the salad of the day (usually jello based), and filling the water crates. On average, he'd spend up to ten hours a day there in the summer, working six days a week.

He didn't mind it though; he'd made many friends, met interesting people, and earned decent money all the while. He walked through the French doors, leading to the front desk. Upon arrival, he used his ID badge to clock in. He began his journey towards the kitchen, head held high despite the bruises and cuts. In the hallway, he ran into the old couple who, in his opinion, were the nicest residents: Mildred and Thattius Quin. Despite the wrinkles and blemishes that accompanied old age, they looked good. Mildred had brown, shoulder length hair that was graying, and silver eyes that always had some sparkle to them. Thattius also had brown hair, and it was receding somewhat. His eyes were the same shade of brown. They were, so the managers said, one of the wealthiest couples there; Thattius had been a governor and lawyer, while in her youth, Mildred had modeled.

"It's nice to see you, Joseph," Mildred called out, but upon getting a closer look, she frowned and said in a serious tone, "Oh my, surely you didn't partake in another brawl?"

"It's nice seeing you too," He smiled and continued, "And yea, you know me, always picking fights with the other kids..." His speech trailed off when he saw Rachel, a coworker and friend of his, walking down the hall with her head down, text messaging as she walked. He didn't want the Quins to learn of how he had really gotten beaten up, and Rachel, who knew of his true abuser, might start talking without thinking.

"Milly is right you know. You'll be a senior this autumn, much too old for such antics. My youngest son was appointed chief of police, and you wouldn't believe how many teenagers get into trouble for fighting. Now I don't mean to nag you, Joseph, and you know I have your best interested heart, but I would hate to see you get into trouble like those delinquents. You're better than that."

"Yea, I know, but sometimes I just can't help it," Joey said, glancing down the hall. Rachel was getting closer.

"For an old man, please try to," Thattius said solemnly, "We'll see you at breakfast. Have a splendid day."

"I'll try. You too," Joey said. Thattius and Mildred continued down the hall at their pace, slowed by their ages.

Then, Rachel looked up. She scurried past the two muttering an apology. Thattius continued, but Mildred turned back for a moment. "This has to stop," she said in a serious tone. Joey urged her to be quieter, but she didn't take the hint. "How much more of his shit are you going to put up with? Hmm... I know he's your father, but you have to report this to somebody. How much longer, Joey?"

He frowned thoughtfully, "A little longer," he slid past her and continued towards the kitchen.

"It's always a little longer with you. Grow a pair," she spat. They both stood in silence, eyes locked. Then, they broke into laughter, and walked to the kitchen together in hysterics the whole time.


Miles away, on a luxurious island paradise, an affluent man with long, silver hair sat inside his castle, a frown spread across his face. Two men sat across from him. Unpleasantness abundant inside the parlor, as they too, were frowning. Agreements were not being made. The older of the two men had a dark complexion, perhaps of Middle Eastern origins. His handsome face was uglied with a scar along his cheek, running vertically from temple to beyond the crisp collar of his white dress shirt. He wore a black dress suite and colorful tie with abstract shapes. The younger of the two looked very similar to the older, though less attractive. It was obvious that they were brothers.

"We've talked about your company, how we met Mister Devlin, and many more insignificant things, but that isn't why were paying you a visit, Mister Pegasus," the older brother stated.

"Enlighten me then, why are you here? What is it that you want of me?"

"Lepanto Corporation has done reasonably well, especially for a newer business," the younger brother replied, "however, its success is halted by Kaiba Corporation. We'd like the right to design and sell Duel Monsters technology too. We can only get so far with it's cheap imitation."

"Why should I give you the right to challenge Kaiba-boy? Hmm? Fans of my game are more than happy with Kaiba-boy's contraptions. While you've proven yourselves more than capable inventors, Seto Kaiba and I are friends. Why would I trouble him with competition?"

"I was unaware that it was acceptable for friends to capture their friend's little brothers, attempt to take over their friend's company, and then steal their friend's soul," the younger brother uttered.

"Things have changed since then, and there were certain circumstances," Pegasus snapped.

"We are prepared to pay you a large sum of money."

"I have money."

"Then perhaps a friendly duel to prove we're worthy?" the older said, "If I can beat you, then we have the right to challenge Kaiba in a tournament we were hoping to host for the rights to Duel Monsters.

"It will be a start. Only if you beat both of us, will I give you what you want."

"Those terms are favorable," the brothers agreed, a hidden conversation passing between the two of them. The three of them walked to the dueling field that witnessed the Duelist Kingdom Finals. Pegasus and the older brother took positions on opposite ends of the field.

"Let's Duel!"


Exhausted and completely drained, Joey climbed onto the bus and quickly found a seat. He ended up staying later to help out the cooks who were behind in the preparation of their intense meal. His effort totaled to eleven and a half hours. Mildred and Thattius ate breakfast in the dining room, but they said they'd be joining their youngest son and his soon-to-be bride for lunch. He smiled thinking about them, and he hoped they were having a nice time.

The bus pulled to a halt in front of his stop; he got up, walked down the aisle, and exited the bus. It had at least stopped raining. He trudged slowly through the streets, but was careful to avoid back alley short cuts; nightlife began early. Eventually he came upon his building. Police sirens wailed. Joey counted three cars and six officers. His first reaction, being one of polite concern, was quickly replaced by indifference. People were killed, arrested, and hurt all the time. While he hoped that no one was dead or badly injured, it happened too often for him to work himself up with frantic concern.

He slipped through the doors and went to the mail boxes. He opened the mail flap labeled 307 and pulled out a stack of envelops. Without even looking at them, he threw them into his book bag. He knew that it was just overdue bills and, by now, probably an eviction notice. No one would send them anything, like cards, with no holiday. Hell, no one sent them cards even for the holidays. Nothing of consequence was inside the mail box. He walked through the lobby, two more police men were standing talking to a man who Joey knew to be their land lord and the owner of the building. As he walked towards him, the land lord pointed and said, "Oh, he's right over there."

A handsome man in a police uniform approached him. "Look," Joey said, "I was at work since five in the morning, so I didn't see or know about nothing." He tried to shuffle past the man.

"Mister Joseph Wheeler," the man said, "I don't believe we've met. My name is Archer Quin and I'm the chief of the police. We came here to arrest and put your father on trial on charges of child abuse."

"What?" Joey stammered, not believing a word of what he heard.

Archer Quin pulled Joey to the side and said, "My parents think that you're quite remarkable. You work at their retirement home, don't you? Oh, of course you do, I know the shock must be too great." he continued, "My mother said that she overheard you and another employee talking about the abuse, and she was most concerned. She decided to tell me over lunch about..."

But Joey stopped breathing after Archer had said 'father,' and he heard nothing more.


Archer had agreed to let him stay with a friend until child services could arrange something. That friend had been none other than Yugi. (It ended up working out for the both of them. Joey suspected that Yugi had been very depressed since Atem left.) At ten o'clock, Joey sat in a guest bedroom and unloaded his bags. He came across the stack of letters from before. He flipped threw them. The entire stack proved to be bills, except a letter, from a company that Joey had never heard of, Lepanto Corporation. It was light blue and Joey's name and address was scripted in an elegant font that contrasted sharply with the his personality and home life. He began, carefully opening it. Yugi came in at that moment to make sure that Joey was comfortable.


Miles away, Seto Kaiba sat in his study after returning from his successful business. He sat reading the Wall Street Journal that he had ignored all day. The article on the Osman brothers and their Lepanto Corporation was of genuine interest, and the part where its CEO said that he was his role model was slightly irritating. While Lepanto could be a threat, Seto Kaiba, based on previous incidents, considered them, at best, an annoyance. Finished with his magazine, he flipped through his personal mail. Ironic that he would receive a letter from the company that he just read about. It was light blue and the font was and elegant cursive. Seto began to open it, just as his little brother came in to see him.


"What are you reading?"

"A letter I got from Lepanto Corporation."

"What's it about?"

"Let me open it and I'll tell you."

Seto got the envelop open and began reading, "Dear Mister Kaiba, In this letter we wish to accomplish several things..." Mokuba raised his eyebrow skeptically.

Yugi nodded and urged Joey to continue reading, "The first of those would be to invite you to participate in our exclusive Duel Monster's Tournament, Celestial Force, that will begin and take place on one of our luxury cruise liners in a weeks time,"

"This tournament will have extravagant prizes and grand titles that you may win. This will be explained in greater detail at the orientation which will begin at seven o'clock," Mokuba scoffed at this, doubtful of its legitimacy.

"The second of those would be to congratulate you on your successful skill, for we have only selected the most impressive and strongest duelists to compete. Wait a minute, Yugi, did you get one?"

"The third of those would be to express my excitement and interest in meeting you. I have heard Much about you and your successes over the past few years. We look forward to seeing you at the orientation. With respect, Mehmud Osman II," Seto finished.

"Are you gonna do it, Seto?"

"Well Joey?"

"I think so."