Notes – For the gx_100. Set post-GX.

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He shouldn't be here at all.

This was all in the past now, and everyone had moved on from it. So much so that bringing it up in a conversation could be disastrous and the reasons behind that were most certainly justified.

But part of him wanted to know the why.

Part of him was a fool, and that fool would not be satisfied until he knew why what had happened had happened.

He understood the desperation. He understood the need to find anything that would stop others from laughing. He understood pride.

But there had to have been other ways besides this. Something about this had been so good that he'd not stopped. Even if only briefly he wanted to see what it was about this that had kept him going.

…Then he was shutting this place down.

It wasn't legal and he had every right to stop it. If only to prevent others from walking down the path that led there… the path that led to Hell.

This was the land of underground duels.

The place wasn't easy to find either; he'd had to travel to the slums of the city to get here. But then, he figured it would have been shut down a long time ago if it had been convenient to get to. The inside hadn't been what he'd been expecting it to either. It was shady, sure, but it wasn't nearly grungy enough for this area. The visitors all sat around tables, wearing classy clothes and masks to match. They couldn't show their faces because of the risk of being found at a place like this, but you didn't need to see the face to know the type – they were aristocrats, people who walked the high road by day but wanted nothing more than to be entertained at the expense of others by night. They were the lowest of the low.

And they were here to see him suffer. Or that was what they thought… But he wasn't young or naïve.

As he walked up towards the arena they uttered insults at him. Among them he heard the term "Pro League Dog" more than once. Figures that would be a common insult here… But Pro League duellists were better than these people. They had respect.

The "arena" of such was inside of a cage. It was almost cliché and had he not been taking this situation extremely seriously he would have rolled his eyes. What sort of people thought this was entertaining? He looked up at the audience to remind himself of exactly what sort.

Once both him and his opponent were inside the next part came. He'd been expecting this – the shock collars. The tools that educated their victims about victory being the only thing that mattered in duels, and that all defeat brought was suffering.

There was no way he'd fall for that lesson though. After experiencing first hand the effects that the lessons those collars taught had on other people. He was not fool enough to go there at least.

When the collars were set in place he got a good look at his opponent. This man was a waste. Though he was rippling with muscles that must have once looked impressive, they now looked worn and ragged. His eyes weren't that of a sane being, they were desperate and hungry. He'd not seen victory for a long time and now it was all that he wanted.

There was even a hint of spittle hanging around this muscular opponent's lips, he noted with some disgust.

"Do you like him?" came the oily voice of the man behind these games as he approached, "Some years ago this man was once the champion of this circuit. But he suffered defeat and has since stood as an example as to why losing is not an option here."

He gritted his teeth before replying, "Don't bother your speech with me. I'm here once to see how this works, then I'm never setting foot in this place again."

"They all say that to start with," laughed Monkey, "Nobody comes here by choice but when the addictions sets in they don't leave for a long time to come."

"I came here by choice, and I'll leave by choice too," he insisted.

There was a dismissive breathing out, and then he heard Monkey's footsteps walk away with some aggravation. Which was good, he would not have that corruptive man talk to him.

He shouldn't even be here… Maybe he should have come earlier but it seemed redundant now. Hell Kaiser Ryo had admitted his mistakes as much as he'd accepted them. He had outgrown this place long ago and would never forgive being reminded of it.

But when it came down to it this was the origin of the new Kaiser. And if anyone ever wanted to understand the changes that had happened they first needed to understand this place.

Reminding himself this strengthened his resolve that he did want to understand Ryo that much.

So the announcer called out for this duel, of Mad Dog Inukai versus Fubuki Tenjoin.