Yugi massaged his temples. That all-nighter was not kind to him, and he had only covered two-thirds of the material for that night's exam! He leaned back in his chair and pondered, not for the first time, what it would be like to drop out of college. Well, he could always help Grandpa run the shop –

His thoughts were interrupted by his cell phone. He picked it up without checking, figuring it was just Téa making sure he had gotten some amount of sleep last night. With a lie already on his lips, he pushed the green button and put the phone to his ear.

"Yug!" came a much lower, more accented voice than Yugi had expected.

"Joey?" he said, brows knitting together. "What's up?"

"Listen, Yug, and listen close. In about half an hour, Gramps is gonna discover a Blue Eyes card –"

"Well, yeah, Joey, he does own one."

"Not that one, another one. A fifth dragon."

Yugi sat up at full attention. "A fifth Blue Eyes? B-but that's impossible! Pegasus only created the four!"

"Right, but I have a very important reason for wanting everyone to believe he's released a new one."

Yugi hesitated. He could practically hear Joey's diabolical grin. "Don't tell me this is another set up."

"Bingo. I just wanted to warn you so Gramps didn't get his hopes up, but I will need his reaction to be authentic. He'll most likely be Kaiba's first contact. Think you can get 'im on my side?"

"You mean, convince my grandfather to help you prank Seto Kaiba?" Yugi replied. "Yeah, I think I can manage that."

"Excellent." Joey continued giving him a few more instructions and hung up.

After, Yugi stuffed all his notebooks and pencils into his bag and headed downstairs. Even this early, Grandpa was behind the shop counter, wiping it down with a white rag. Yugi shook his head good-naturedly; some things never change.

"Morning, Yugi," he said cheerfully. "Off to school already?"

"I figured I'd get there early and study some more," he replied with a shrug.

"Did you eat?"

Before he could reflexively brush away Grandpa's concern with a quick promise to grab food from a campus dining hall, Yugi glanced at the wall clock. He still had a whole half hour before Joey's plan took effect. "No," he answered, "I haven't. Care to join me for breakfast?"

Within a few minutes, the two had settled at a table in the corner of the storefront with their eggs and toast and began eating in amicable silence. Yugi mentally counted down to go-time, glancing at the clock or front door when Grandpa wasn't looking.

"Do you hear that?" Grandpa asked, butter knife half-poised to spread jam on his toast.

Yugi strained his ears and, sure enough, heard excited chatter coming from outside some ways away. "It sounds like a group of people," he said.

"And a large one, at that." Grandpa set his knife down on his plate and stood, preparing to go outside and see what the fuss was about. The talking was only getting louder. He had barely taken a few steps forward when it reached a crescendo and the door burst open, almost knocking the bell off its post.

In walked Seto Kaiba for the second time in as many days, surrounded by cameramen, photographers, and reporters. They followed on his heels as he strode further into the shop.

Yugi watched as Grandpa hopped behind the counter, probably looking for some sense of familiarity amongst the bright camera flashes, cacophony of questions, and the approaching less-than-pleased looking multi-billionaire.

"C-can I help you?" he asked, thin veneer of politeness barely veiling his confusion.

"Old man," Kaiba said in the closest approximation of respect Yugi supposed he was capable of showing Grandpa. "From one owner to another, I've come to ask you a favor."

Grandpa raised an eyebrow. "What's this all about?" he asked, glancing over Kaiba's shoulder to the buzzing paparazzi. "Challenging me to a proper duel this time?" he said flatly, gaze settling back on Kaiba.

Kaiba's right hand tensed inconspicuously on the display case. His left, however, whipped out a cell phone. He pulled up an image and set the device before Grandpa for him to appraise.

"I've pored over it myself for hours. I've had my people analyze it four times. We all came to the same conclusion. I came here for a second opinion. Your second opinion." The chattering finally died down.

Grandpa looked down at the image. Momentarily, his eyebrows drew together. "It's just a –"

"Look at the seller info at the bottom."

Grandpa did as told. With each line he read, his eyes grew wider. He looked up at Kaiba, then re-read the paragraph. Yugi thought he could see a single tear in the corner of his eye. "It's real!" he cried. "A fifth Blue Eyes White Dragon! I've seen it all."

This sparked even more conversation amongst the reporters. Reporters immediately began talking to their microphones, announcing the confirmation of a fifth Blue Eyes. Yugi wove through them, careful not to get in the way of the people photographing Kaiba's and Grandpa's very excited conversation about what this new release meant for the Duel Monsters world.

Yugi stood beside Grandpa trading cordial affirmations with the two as appropriate. When a paparazzo finally managed to get Kaiba's attention, Yugi turned his back to the counter and leaned in to whisper to Grandpa: "It's not real."

He felt Grandpa stiffen. "But the mint –"

"Is fake. Joey's doing. Apparently, Nexus has access to tons of bogus serial numbers they use for props." He glanced at Grandpa, hoping the news hadn't crushed him too much.

He gave a sad smile. "Too good to be true, then."

"I'm sorry, Grandpa," Yugi said ruefully. "It's all so that Joey can get back at Kaiba. We would've warned you, but he wanted your reaction to be genuine for the press. So just keep smiling."

"That I can do," he said softly, and if Yugi saw a hint of a malicious smile on Grandpa's face, he wouldn't have said a word.

Yugi turned back toward the storefront just as Kaiba shook off the media hounds.

"Thank you, Mr. Moto," he said, turning to Grandpa again. "You've made me a very happy man today."

Grandpa nodded. "And you, me." He bent down and retrieved an ancient laptop, blowing off the dust as he set it on the counter. "Now, if you'll excuse me," he continued absently, "I have some buying to do. That card will likely sell out before the end of the day, especially after that newscast. I'll have to put in a bid before the prices jump too high." He looked up at Kaiba. "But I'm sure I don't have to tell you that." He winked.

Kaiba blanched, rooted to the spot. Yugi suppressed a laugh as Kaiba watched Grandpa type away (at nothing, mind) before turning on his heel and racing out the door. The reporters all paused mid-sentence before following him.

Grandpa chuckled as he watched the parade exit his shop. "So much excitement already. I can't wait to see how the rest of the day plays out."

Yugi laughed inwardly, glad his grandfather had taken Joey's prank so well and actually played along. "Later, Grandpa. Wish me luck on my exam."

Seto sat at the back of his navy town car, eyes roaming the seller's page over and over again. Despite the fright he'd gotten at the game shop about the bidding war over the card, the seller apparently hadn't even opened the auction on the card trading site. Of course, this led Seto to check every other possible site the seller may have posted the card's info to, from middle-man shipping companies to backroom warehouse deal sites, but came up dry. There was only one website the "seller" had used, and he/she hadn't even opened it up for bids.

The overnight appearance of a fifth Blue Eyes after all these years made state news, as Seto could hear on the car radio. Duelists and enthusiasts alike were waiting with baited breath on the site; some had even brought their laptops to Internet cafes and dueling lounges in hopes of trading information, encouraging other potential bidders, or discovering the mysterious seller.

Seto, of course, did no such thing. With the whole of the duelist database literally at his fingertips, he saw no need. He glanced absentmindedly out of the window. A thought occurred: owning half of the supposed set of Blue Eyes' definitely had its benefits. Smirking at his decided advantage over his soon-to-be competitors, he ordered to be brought back to manor.

Once there, he headed straight to his bedroom, barely registering that Mokuba had greeted him at the door and followed him inside. Instead, Seto thrust the doors to his walk-in closet open and entered, Mokuba in tow.

"Seto?" Mokuba called tentatively. "What's going on? Where were you this morning?"

Without pausing his perusal through the racks, Seto spared the teen a glance. "I'm surprised you haven't heard already."

Mokuba raised an eyebrow – a trait he definitely picked up from his big brother, Seto noted with amusement – and said "Heard what?"

So Seto told his brother all that had transpired that morning, meeting each incredulous remark with an understanding nod and quick explanation. Finally, Mokuba just stared silently, mouth slightly gaping as he tried to find the words to speak.

"W-what're you about to do?" he asked at last.

"Going to the Den," Seto replied casually.

At this, Mokuba's eyes narrowed. "You're going back there? After you barely got out alive last time?"

Seto scoffed. "It's been a long time. They probably won't even remember me."

"No," Mokuba said, tone dripping sarcasm, "they totally won't remember the guy with the dragon obsession and the wallet to feed it."

Ignoring the remark, Seto continued pulling garments off their racks, preparing to change. "At least this time I'll be in disguise." He reached for something, thought better of it, and looked around. "Where's my black trench coat?" He glanced at Mokuba.

The teen smiled sheepishly. "About that..."

Seto insisted on driving himself to the Den. After all, it wouldn't do to be seen consorting with the types who loitered in the back allies of seedy lounges in the wrong part of town. As he drove the unremarkable blue Honda towards his destination, he dredged up memories of the last time he'd been there - about a decade ago, mind - and had to suppress a shudder. It would be fine, he convinced himself. He was older now. Besides, he only wanted information this time.

Seto parked a block away from the Den. He settled a large pair of shades over his face before getting out of the car and walking to the alley. His casual gait belied the excitement that mounted with each step forward he took.

When he got to the alley, he looked left, then right, before entering. At the end of the dim path was a brick wall, but Seto knew better. He approached it and tapped each brick, listening carefully to each echo. Finding the one he wanted, he knocked on it louder and waited for a response.

Shortly after, a small, unseen panel was thrown open and cold eyes peered through from the other side of the wall. "What?" he demanded.

Seto was not put off in the least. Rather than answer verbally, he took something out of his pocket and held up for the eyes to see. They widened at the sight of the rare card and slammed the panel shut. Momentarily, Seto heard a loud lock release and saw the hidden door open.

"Right this way," the eyes (which belonged to a short but strapping man) said deferentially and led him down the dim corridor into a large, hazy room. The guy turned to walk back to his post at the secret door, leaving Seto in the entryway of the lounge. He took it in at once: the crowded wooden bar in the corner, the bartenders leaning on their elbows and listening intensely to their patrons, the lotus-eaters draped over random recliners and loveseats, the quick shuffle of cards and money changing hands in the corner amidst duels, poker, and trading. And above it all sat the person he was looking for.

With a renewed sense of purpose, Seto marched through the gaggles of people straight toward the dais where stood the Owner's Chair, sparing only half a second to admire the lack of attention he was attracting. Even the self-proclaimed king of the Den seemed preoccupied with something (more specifically, with the touchscreen tablet) in his lap. Seto only stopped when he was right in front of the chair. He cleared his throat.

"What is it, pion?" the owner said boredly. He barely stirred to throw some of his long black hair over his shoulder. In doing so, he caught a glimpse of his addressee. His eyes narrowed for a moment before widening in recognition. "Well, I'll be," he said through a Cheshire grin. "Seto Kaiba. How many years has it been?"

"Too many to count, Ryunosuke," Seto replied. This was a formality, of course. There was no way Seto could forget the very date he had won his first Blue Eyes. And to think that here, of all places, could be where he earned his last. Speaking of: "I suspect you know why I'm here."

Ryunosuke leaned forward. "Not to duel me again, I take it." He laughed heartily. "No; of course I know." He hastily picked up the tablet and turned it around for Seto to see; the screen displayed an article about the fifth Blue Eyes.

"News travels fast underground," Seto said, nodding appreciatively.

"It's got to for grubs like me to stay in business. But you'd know all about that." He leaned back, cast the tablet onto a nearby table, and crossed his legs. "Enough sweet talk. What is it that you want from me, Kaiba?"

Seto didn't even flinch. "I'm interested in buying," he replied, sparing a nonchalant glance at passing couple. "And I know you know something about this deal." He returned his gaze to Ryunosuke, hoping his bluff caught the other by surprise.

Ryunosuke smirked. "You'd think so. But it's on the contrary. I sent my eyes-and-ears out to the usual places, but they've all run dry." He tented his fingers contemplatively. "However...there is one lead I haven't investigated."

Seto refrained from huffing; he merely crossed his arms. "What is it?" He was already imagining another Den somewhere in Domino he'd have to hunt down and infiltrate. And chances were it was affiliated with a rival syndicate, one Ryunosuke and his goons could not enter, but in which Seto probably had a higher chance of survival.

"I could tell you," the Owner said, and Seto stiffened at the prospect of an oncoming deal, "but then you'd have to do something for me."

Seto narrowed his eyes. "If it's selling the Dragon to you, you can forget it. There's no way I'd –"

Ryunosuke waved his hand dismissively. "I'll admit, this fifth Blue Eyes business is...intriguing. But what I want is more personal." He leaned forward. "Someone owes me a very particular bit of information, the very someone you're going to find and persuade to give me what I want."

He thought long and hard about it, never breaking eye contact with Ryunosuke. This proposition just reeked of illegality, which – if the media found out – could be bad for business. Then again, Seto was taking a chance just appearing in the Den; despite the Vegas rule, all it took was one blabbermouth desperate for a payday. Well, hell, having risked so much for a rumored card already, Seto reasoned, what was a little more trouble?

"I'll do it," he said at last.

"Good." Ryunosuke nodded. "The man you want is the Connoisseur."

Who else would it be? Seto's grip on the steering wheel tightened as he remembered the man who once owned his second Blue Eyes. What could Ryunosuke want from such a socialite? Seto didn't think the two even knew each other, let alone operated in the same circles. Then again, both were notorious reputable – albeit, dangerous – rarehunters to the upper echelons of collectors.

Ryunosuke didn't bother Seto. As much as the CEO abhorred the idea of being publicly associated with the sort of illicitness that permeated the Den, he was familiar with it, having spent the better part of his teen years optimizing his resources and cashing in favors. He sighed. It was different back then. He was different then.

And then there were snakes like the Connoisseur.

Seto put the thought to rest and turned into a gated driveway. He opened his car window, leaned over, pressed the intercom button, and waited.

"Business?" said a nasally and bored feminine voice.

"I'm here to see your boss," Seto replied tersely. "He'll understand."

The girl scoffed. "No one sees him without an appointment." She paused. "And I don't think anyone driving a blue Honda is on the schedule."

Seto's eye twitched for a moment, but then he remembered himself. "Fine. I'll just have to take my interests back to Kaiba Corp."

"Go ahead, I'm sure they'll tell you the same thing."

Imbecile! Seto wanted to facepalm but did not give the girl the satisfaction. "Do you –?"

"Hang on – you sure, sir? Okay – okay – yes of course, sir, right away."

Seto didn't know what to make of the girl's suddenly divided attention, but didn't question it when the gates opened before him. He wasted no time driving through them. He stopped by the valet booth, got out, and tossed the driver the keys. After watching the blue Honda ride off into the underground garage, Seto stepped onto the path leading to the manor up the hill.

Halfway up, he was greeted by a white-haired man whose posture was hobbled over a wooden, diamond-topped cane. The man smiled, making the creases near his eyes deepen, and gave a little wave.

"Good to see you, Mr. Kaiba," the man said, bowing politely in greeting.

Seto returned the gesture. "Same to you," he said deferentially, "Connoisseur."

"This way then," the old man instructed. "You look like a man in a hurry."

The manor was far less imposing than it had been when he was younger (and, incidentally, smaller). Nonetheless, it was still impressive, and with years of distance and experience, Seto could now properly admire it. As he followed the Connoisseur, his eyes roamed the arrangement of the foyer. The walls were covered in grids of framed portraits and photographs. Pedestals, short and tall, filled the remaining space, containing trinkets from various eras and cultures. Glass cases protected the most valuable and fragile.

The Connoisseur stopped before one of the cases and turned to Seto. "You remember this one, yes?" he said with a coy smile.

Seto didn't have to inspect it long before recollecting its importance. "Yes," he said curtly, in his mind replacing the present trinket with the second of his fabled blue dragons now residing in his main deck.

"At first, I couldn't bear to put anything else in its place," the old man continued, "so I left it empty, as a testament to our magnificent duel." His eyes twinkled in nostalgia as he glanced down at the case. "But I've finally seen fit to do it, as you can see. And I'm rather proud of this one."

Seto regarded the item again: it was an ivory horn, curved and jeweled. Despite the thing's beauty, he didn't quite understand its value. It couldn't possibly serve a functional purpose, nor was it exactly decorative (not in a normal house, at least). Nonetheless, he nodded appreciatively, prompting the Connoisseur to go on.

The man smiled in quasi-convincing show of charm and gestured for Seto to wait right there. Meanwhile, he walked to the opposite end of the room and tugged on a rope dangling from the ceiling. Though the action was met with silence, the Connoisseur waited, merely tapping his fingers against his cane. Momentarily, a panel in the wall behind the rope slid open, revealing a small elevator from which a young woman (a teenager, really) sprang forth.

"You rang, sir?" she said immediately, and Seto recognized her voice from the intercom outside.

"Yes, Liza," the Connoisseur replied. "Do you have the envelope I asked you to carry?"

Liza nodded once and produced it from a pocket inside her vest. She glanced at it once before handing it to her boss.

"Excellent. Dismissed."

She nodded again, gave Seto a once-over, and stepped back into the elevator. The panel re-concealed the entrance.

"This," the Connoisseur said, regaining Seto's attention, "is for the young Den master." He held out the envelope.

Seto quirked an eyebrow, the small gesture belying the sudden nervousness that sped up his heart rate. "H-how did you know?" He didn't even consider feigning ignorance.

"Ear's to the ground, as usual, Mr. Kaiba," the man responded with a chuckle that crinkled his eyes. "Now," he said in a cooler – dangerous – tone, "tell Mr. Ryunosuke that he shall take care to conduct his business in person next time." He waved his hand in dismissal. "On your way, then."

No sooner had Seto delivered the envelope – whose contents Seto did not want to lose sleep pondering – than he was chasing another of Ryunosuke's connections. He wasted no time pursuing the lead, except to drop off the Honda in return for a more fitting limo and chauffer. Once they were on the road, he pulled out his laptop and checked the seller's information on the card trading site. His heart almost stopped when he saw that it had been updated: the seller had posted a picture of the card not an hour earlier. And, from what Seto could see through a computer screen, the image was completely authentic. The comments elicited by this latest development alone were reaching the thousands, and still the seller hadn't opened the auction. After checking the surveillance he had set up on the situation, he shut the laptop and waited anxiously to arrive at Mikano headquarters.

Once there, a bespectacled woman met him out front. She stood straight, hands clasped in front of her, and merely nodded in acknowledgment of his arrival.

"A pleasure to finally meet you, Mr. Kaiba," she said placidly. "You don't know me. I, head of the mint division of Mikano, Inc., am known simply as the Distributor." She turned to face the building. "You'll have to excuse us," she said as she beckoned him through the front entrance. "Recent events have left us out of sorts." She wasn't wrong. The ground-level grunts were scurrying around, each one either wrapped in telephone wires, thumbing through stacks of papers, or typing furiously at keyboards. The image didn't change much as they climbed the floors in the transparent elevator.

Despite the chaos, Seto's companion remained calm. When they arrived at the penthouse, she strode off at a frustratingly leisure pace. "We're actually rather glad you came," she began. "There is something we must discuss." She pushed her glasses up her nose a little. "You are not aware that I can remember every uncommon, rare, and super-rare card that Mikano, Inc., has ever minted. For example, I know that several years ago, Mikano made an unprecedented direct sale of serial number 89631139, card number DPKB-EN001 before it could hit the shelves, ensuring that most consumers were only aware of the three already in circulation."

Seto was slightly impressed. The codes matched those of his third and final Blue Eyes, digit for digit.

"However, this news about a fifth 001 has blighted my career by sullying my memory's reputation. Imagine my embarrassment while reporting to Sir Mikano himself that my division could not account for this particular card. So, for the past six hours, we have been directing our attentions to discovering this seller's intentions. He has agreed to clarify this farce at precisely 4:44 pm." She glanced at her watch. "It is time." The Distributor touched a spot on the wall opposite the elevator, and Seto watched the window above it darken into a screen before blinking on, displaying the card selling website that had all of Domino's attention rapt that very moment.

Suddenly, the image of the card in question was replaced by a video. The Distributor wasted no time pressing Play. An automated voice began reading the text scrolling, Star Wars style, through the video.

"It is with great humility and heavy heart," the voice started, "that I come to you, Duelists of Domino. Your fervor this morning has been duly noted and shall not go unrewarded. However, at this moment I must unveil this intricate hoax."

Hoax?! No, it couldn't be. He couldn't have spent the better part of a whole day chasing a hoax. A ruse. A scam. Not about this.

"So without further ado: the ploy."

The screen transitioned to the supposed fifth Blue Eyes.

"You're eyes do not deceive you. This is, indeed, an authentic Blue Eyes White Dragon. The serial and card numbers are legitimate productions from our friends at Mikano, Inc. However, the mint –" and, here, the stamp in the corner peeled away – "is a fabrication. Now, I know what you're all thinking. Why? Why did I go through these lengths to pull one over on you, beloved Duel Monsters fans? The answer is simple enough to reduce to two words, the sole reason I was able to do all of this. And his name –"

No. It couldn't be. Wheeler wouldn't dupe the entire city, for fuck's sake, to satiate his own inanity. Would he?

"– is Seto Kaiba."

Apparently he would. Seto crossed his arms over his chest as the weight of the impossibility of an additional Blue Eyes settled rightfully over him once more. He barely registered the Distributor's sigh of relief, followed soon by her inquisitive look directed at him. Instead, he thought back to immediately to that Tuesday's break-in at KC, to the foreign thief who stole nothing. Who had only scanned something in his vault before allowing himself to get caught.

Seto cursed under his breath before turning on his heel and stalking out of Mikano headquarters, swearing vengeance as he walked. Because "That one was personal."