Again Seto tried to head for home, and strange thoughts swirled through his mind. How would Marik Ishtar have gotten amnesia? Was he somehow mixed up in everything?

Suddenly his cell phone rang and the boy snatched it up. "Kaiba," he said coldly.

"Sir?" an unfamiliar voice said. "This is Officer Cheryl Banks."

Seto blinked. "What is it?" he demanded.

"Sir, the knife that was thrown at you seems to be from the remains of a set that was found amid the wreckage of a car crash about fifty miles from here," the officer stated.

"I see." Seto's eyes narrowed. This was certainly intriguing. He would have to pay a visit to the crash site. He had a pretty good idea that he knew which accident the woman was speaking of—most likely it was the one Tea had thought he'd been involved in several days before.

After hanging up with the policewoman, Seto dialed his home number and soon was talking to Mokuba.

"Hi, big brother!" the little boy said happily.

"Hey kid," Seto replied affectionately.

"Are you coming home soon, Seto?" Mokuba asked hopefully.

"I will," Seto assured him, "but first I have to take care of a few more things."

"Oh, okay." Mokuba sounded disappointed, and a bit worried. "I miss you, big brother," he said softly.

Seto smiled. "I miss you, too, kid," he replied.

"Please be careful, Seto," Mokuba pleaded now.

"Don't worry," Seto said gently. "I'll be okay, and I'll be back before you know it!"

After saying their goodbyes, the brothers hung up.

Seto looked out the tinted window grimly. He might be walking into something dangerous, but it wouldn't be the first time, and anyway, things were already dangerous. He had to solve this mystery before someone—especially Mokuba—was hurt terribly!
****
Marik's eyes slowly opened and he looked around, trying to focus. It was a sense of deja vu he felt as he realized he was laying in a bed and covered with a soft quilt.

Then the boy who had rescued him before was bending over him, looking relieved to see him awake. "Marik! Are you okay?" he asked.

Marik blinked, surprised. "I . . . I am alright," he said, sitting up, "but I . . . I feel as though I have been in a state of oblivion for some time."

"You have been," the other boy replied with a nod, straightening up. "You must have fallen asleep out by the docks. Joey found you there in the snow."

Marik was startled, remembering the Brooklyn boy from earlier. He was the last person Marik would've expected would actually save him. He pondered on this for a while and then again looked up at his benefactor. "Who are you?" he asked now.

"I'm Yugi Muto," the other boy said with a smile. "You're here in my house. And when morning comes, there's someone I'd like you to meet."

Marik blinked. "And who might that be?"

"Ishizu," Yugi said at last, not sure how much he should reveal. "She works at the museum."

Marik nodded slowly. "Do I know this Ishizu?"

"Sure," Yugi smiled again. "She's your sister."

Marik gasped. "I . . . I have a sister?!" His lavender eyes were wide and hopeful, then suddenly were sad once again.

"What's wrong?" Yugi asked worriedly.

Marik shook his head. He hadn't treated anyone well, from what he'd been told, so what were the chances that his sister had been an exception? She probably either hated him or was completely terrified of him. "Will . . . will she wish to see me?" he said at last in a soft voice.

It suddenly dawned on Yugi what Marik was thinking and he gasped. "Ishizu loves you, Marik!" he cried. "She loves you unconditionally in spite of all you've done to others. And you love her too," he added. "You would never hurt her!"

Marik listened attentively. He really had a sister who cared about him? He had longed so much for just such a knowledge over the last few days! And to know that he hadn't ever harmed her—such a relief.

He paused. There was something else he had longed for—a friend. And as he looked at the short boy in front of him, he knew he had found one.
****
Seto soon arrived at the accident site and found a lone police officer examining the area. When the boy stepped out of his limo, the woman straightened up and looked at him.

"Oh, Mr. Kaiba, sir," she said, nodding. "I've been expecting you." Seto recognized the officer's voice as that of Cheryl Banks, whom he'd spoken to earlier on the phone.

"You have." It wasn't a question. Seto glanced around, looking at the wreckage site, which was still sealed off by yellow Caution tape. "What happened here?" he asked. "What is this car crash you told me about?"

Cheryl looked at him seriously. "The cars collided and burst into flames, but no one knows exactly how it happened," she reported. "There were no survivors."

"None at all?" Seto pressed.

Cheryl paused. "Well . . . now that I think of it, I remember hearing that there *was* one survivor," she said slowly.

"Who?" Seto demanded. Maybe that was the person who had tried to knife him!

Cheryl shook her head. "No one knows. He didn't have any ID on him and so he was just a John Doe. When he woke up in the hospital, he had complete amnesia." She went on to explain that shortly after the boy had revived, several strange men had burst into the hospital and had chased him all through it. No one knew the men's intentions, but the boy had told a nurse that they were trying to kill him. "Somehow he escaped from the hospital," she finished, "and no one's seen him since then."

Seto looked suspicious at this story, then thoughtful. "Was he an Egyptian?" he asked.

Cheryl gave him an odd look. "I believe so," she said at last, "but I can't remember for sure. I never saw him—I only heard the reports from the hospital workers."

Seto considered all this. It seemed to indicate that Marik was the survivor—and that meant that he was linked to the mystery. But he couldn't have been the one throwing the knife—he had been practically comatose laying in the snow at the time, and what was more, he wouldn't have had any memory of Seto. And he wouldn't have any reason to knife him even if he did.

The blue-eyed boy turned to look over the steep ravine just at the edge of the road. "Could there have been any other survivors?" he asked thoughtfully. What if someone else had survived, injured Marik in some way, and then took off with the knife taken from the set?

Cheryl looked surprised at the question. "I don't see how anyone else could have survived, Mr. Kaiba," she said quickly. "All the bodies in the cars were completely incinerated."

"I see." Seto folded his arms. "Then I assume this survivor was not found in one of the cars."

"No sir." Cheryl shook her head firmly. "They found him laying on the pavement and naturally assumed that he'd been thrown from one of the cars before it exploded. He was cut and bruised quite badly and sustained a concussion, but amazingly he didn't seem to have any broken bones." She snapped a picture of the site with her camera.

Seto raised an eyebrow. "Isn't that rather unusual for someone who was thrown from a moving vehicle?"

"Very unusual, sir," Cheryl agreed. "But not impossible."

Seto nodded slowly. He found this officer's behavior rather . . . strange. "This accident was several days ago," he said now. "It seems that everything has been cleared away by now, so . . ." He scrutinized Cheryl suspiciously. "May I ask what you're doing here this late at night?"

Cheryl's eyes widened, but she quickly adopted a passive stare and crossed her arms. "You do recall what I told you about the knife, Mr. Kaiba," she said flatly.

"Yes, I do," Seto nodded, "but somehow I don't think that's why you're here. The knife set—or what's left of it—must be in police custody by now."

Cheryl glared at him. "This is official police business, sir, and I must admit, you're starting to get in my way. You wouldn't want me to get fired now, would you?"

Seto looked back at her calmly. "Would I be the cause of your getting fired, or would it be because you're getting involved in illegal activities?" He could tell that Cheryl was very angry now.

"Mr. Kaiba, I don't care how much property you own or how much power you have in this city," she growled, poking him in the chest, "I won't allow you to talk to me this way. I could arrest you for demeaning my name!" She turned around. "Now, sir, if you'll excuse me I really have a lot of police work to do."

Seto nodded. "Don't let me keep you." He also turned as if he were about to leave and listened to the woman's footsteps get farther and farther away while he watched her out of the corner of his eye. When he was certain she was gone, he turned back and went to go after her. Cheryl had definitely acted strange, and Seto was determined to find out why.
****
Bakura wandered through his silent house, looking around cautiously. Everything seemed to be in order, but he was still wary. He had felt all alone and rather uneasy since his Yami had been stabbed and was spending most of his time sleeping.

At least he'd been able to get in touch with Yugi and warn him about what the thief had said. Yugi had then brought Bakura up to date on what was happening elsewhere. Bakura had been shocked to hear of Marik's reappearance and horrified to hear that the Rare Hunters were all after him. Was all of that somehow connected to everything else? The case was just a tangled mess right now, but maybe soon the pieces would start to fit.

With a sigh, Bakura walked out into the kitchen and then shuddered. He didn't even like being in that room right now, but he knew he had to eat. If he fell sick himself, he wouldn't be able to care for his Yami.

The telephone rang then and startled him. Who would be calling now?

Slowly Bakura lifted the receiver, hoping it would be Yugi or one of the others . . . or even his father. "Hello?" he said softly.

"Are you havin' a good day?" a scratchy voice asked.

Bakura blinked. "Come again?"

"You'd better be havin' a good day," the voice went right on, "because you ain't got many more of 'em to enjoy on this earth!" With an unearthly cackle, the line went dead.

Bakura was horrified. "Hello? Hello, who is this?!" he cried, but to no avail. He collapsed into a kitchen chair, shaking.
****
Mokuba was sitting in the living room, anxiously waiting for Seto to return. It had been ages since his brother had called and told him that he'd be gone and now Mokuba was getting worried. "Where could he be?!" he said aloud.

"I'm right here," a sneering voice replied, and Mokuba looked up with a gasp. Standing before him was a strange boy in ancient clothing. He had the same long bangs and blue eyes as Seto, but Mokuba knew in an instant that this wasn't his brother.

"Who are you?!" the little boy demanded, backing up in fright.

The other boy smirked, crossing his arms over his bare chest. "I'm your brother," he said smoothly. "Don't tell me you don't recognize your own brother!"

"You're not my brother!" Mokuba cried. "You may look like him, but you're nothing but a big phony!! Who sent you here?!"

"I sent myself," the boy replied, reaching to grab for Mokuba. The younger boy darted out of the way, hiding behind the couch.

"Oh Seto, where are you?!" he wailed. Suddenly thinking of something alarming, he looked up at the new arrival again. "Did you hurt my brother??"

"That fool?" The boy advanced again, and Mokuba knocked a table into his path.

"If you've hurt Seto, you're gonna pay!!!" Mokuba screamed, his heart pounding.

"You shrimp." The boy grabbed Mokuba and wrenched his arm around painfully. "You can't stop me from carrying out my plans!!"

Mokuba struggled against him, but in vain. This boy's touch was pure evil, and he wanted nothing more than to be rid of it—and him. "Who are you?!" he demanded. "You've shown your true colors! You're not my brother!!!"

"My name," the boy hissed, ignoring Mokuba's other comments, "is Seth."
****
Seto had tracked Cheryl into the dense woods on the other side of the woods and then all the way back to the accident site, where there was now no sign of the woman. Seto looked around suspiciously. Something wasn't right.

Without warning, a strong leather cord suddenly wrapped around Seto's neck and the boy gasped. Someone was trying to choke him to death, just as they'd tried earlier on Marik!

He struggled against his opponent, trying to turn around and see who it was, but when he attempted this they only tightened the pressure on the cord.

Seto's throat was burning. There was only one other thing he could do. He grabbed at the cord and pulled, trying to get it away from his neck, but his assailant seemed to know exactly what they were doing. With a swift kick to Seto's back, they tried to cause him to lose his footing and fall forward over the ravine.

Seto struggled frantically to regain his balance and swayed wildly. If he started to go over the edge, the only thing keeping him up would be the cord, and he would hang!