The South wall of Kaiba's office was made entirely of glass, allowing for a palatial view of Domino City's heavily industrialized sector and station for corporate buildings such as his own. The arrangement was ideal for a man who felt impassioned by viewing the chaotic swarm of activity clotting the city street beneath him. He'd gloat as he stood near to the window, sometimes close enough to cause the window to mist, his mind always reeling and churning with his vision on advancing his business. And it was only in the early morning, when the custodians were prying the building and when the building air conditioners hummed in unison to the sound of construction workers hammering away in the residential regions, that Kaiba felt reasonably calm. Besides that, the potential for Kaiba to seek some type of emotional solace was rarely conjured. He spent most of his time attending to the financial and advertising needs of Kaiba Corp.

He had fended off rival corporations and made them into extensions of his own corporate empire. Other companies that specialized in manufacturing holographic projection technology and duelling merchandise, like Schroider Corp and Cavil Technologies, were at his disposable. Even Pegasus, the founding father of Duel Monsters, had agreed to become a part of the expansion of Kaiba Corp, adding to its influence and power. Now, Kaiba Corp had developed into a multi-national business that earned more than a billion dollars in yearly aggregate, its stock value superseding that of any other company in his work sector.

Then why did feelings of deprivation still reside with him? He had redefined Kaiba Corp with fairness, making sure to avoid devolving to the tactics that Gozaboro used when the company was under his management. He wouldn't weaponize a gaming company and wield the privileges that came with its profits as means to lobby against politicians and he definitely wouldn't continue the family legacy of investing in war. And although Gozaboro aggrandized Kaiba Corp as being a powerful investor, it was for reasons that made Kaiba's skin crawl. He made an oath at a young age that he wouldn't replicate the former Kaiba Corp owner's selfish style of business, but the one thing he found himself unable to repress was the haughty arrogance that existed equally as much in him as it did his deceased step-father.

Kaiba shook his head, forcing himself to stop lingering on those thoughts. He was a man that dwelled in the present and dealt with it accordingly, brooding over the past would only resort to him waddling in a pool of self-pity and he couldn't have that. He had to remain strong-he couldn't begin delving into memories that would surface as bitter melancholy. He was a Kaiba and his younger brother Mokuba, not only depended on him, but idolized his every word and every action.

He saw how his brother looked up at him in what can only be described as reverence. Mokuba pretty much worshipped the ground Kaiba walked on and was arguably more loyal than any of the staff members who he'd employed for the full 8 years of Seto's rise to power. Mokuba was even cultic in his commitment to defending Kaiba's degrading arrogance. When the press would rage words against Kaiba as being the "cut-throat snob," of the corporate realm, Mokuba just saw Kaiba's thick-skinned indifference and hard-headedness as cool sensibility.

And as much as Kaiba was flattered by the discipleship of his brother, he sometimes worried that when Mokuba led Kaiba Corp, that he'd bury other aspects of his life. Kaiba had almost forgotten the oath he made to his brother when they were children.

-
"One day, we will make a place just like this...and call it Kaibaland!" Mokuba's face beamed as he finished padding in the side of one of the towers for the city they had created in the sandbox. Kaiba nodded, his brother was elated.

"One day we will..." Kaiba reassured. Mokuba's eyes shone with an optimistic glint.
-

He believed in Kaiba even before he had acquired an affluent role in the world. The extent of Mokuba's attachment made Kaiba fear disappointing him, but he could never disclose those feelings. Such humility and emotional openness made him feel out of his element, blithe apathy suited the richest man in the world, not a mind clustered with angst.

Kaiba looked down at the entrance of Kaiba Corp, the impassioned face of his Blue Eyes White Dragon chiselled as a recreation of when the monster would unclench its jaws to attack. Its body stood 15 ft. up off the ground, mounted on a circular marble base with the words "The Blue Eyes White Dragon, Beast of Games," etched into a gold plaque nailed into the front. There was a copy of the statue in every Kaibaland, which meant there was a duplicate in nearly every major capital city in the world, but the one he was looking at was the only one of its size. It made the Kaiba Corp building a tourist attraction and although it was taking Kaiba awhile to get used to the flow of foreign faces assembling around his building, he knew that it was good for business. He even considered opening up a tour of the lower floors, but that would have to wait after he was done campaigning for the portable holographic duel boards that had recently been released.

Kaiba pressed his fingers to the side of his head and muttered to himself. His migraines were acting up again, or maybe it was his lack of sleep that was triggering the sudden headaches. Maybe he just needed a break, but vacations were scarce and time spent indulging in brash luxury was time wasted and Kaiba was a man whose biggest pet peeve was non-productiveness.

Of course, Kaiba still tasted life at its frothy best. Expensive wine, presidential suites, the smell of Cohiba cigars and the tinkling laughter of models flanking his side. He owned mansions from Hollywood Boulevard to Dubai and his face was plastered on the cover of Time Magazine and The Wall Street Journal. He was "tall, dark and handsome," to the women's magazines, and the most "enviable man in the world," to the article writers of MoneySmart. But even though he sat on a throne of hard earned wealth, he had missed the most important mark of his career, to be named King of Games. That title had been imposed on someone else, someone who he both respected as a duellist but simultaneously hated for being one.

Yugi Moto, with his superstitious belief that a self-aware entity could reside inside a card or what the sports press coined as "duellistic spiritualism." And then there was Yugi's bleeding heart views on friendship, a view that unnerved Kaiba to the core. He didn't need any friends. His bitter resentment towards Yugi clouded the pleasures of being a part of a commended class of people. How could he glut on the fruits of his labour when he was one step short of having a title that he coined himself? The concept of the "King of Games," stemmed from the creation of his duelling tournaments after all.

Kaiba cursed under his breath, further fuming up the glass in front of him. He wiped it away and was struck by the glassy callousness embedded in his eyes. The light lines of tiredness running on the underside of them caused them to stand out even more. He could see the jealousy, the hatred shimmering in his eyes and it nagged his conscience that one person could so easily irritate him. Not even Pegasus, with his infantilizing teasing when he'd roll his tongue and call Kaiba, "Boy", or when Joey Wheeler would annoy him with this empty threats, was as agitating as Yugi's winning streak in his tournaments. He felt it undermined his ability as a duellist, it made him feel weak and poor in the presence of a person who could never amount to his renowned prestige. He was an authority figure, that both demanded respect and commanded it, and Yugi's continuous domination over his opponents, as the King of Games, made him feel like he had someone, other than himself, to answer too.