Chapter 28: The Qualifier, Part One
Joey was still seething as he tried to figure out how to work the stupid little cart thing waiting behind his door (door number one, which made it better than Kaiba's), and the emotion did him no favors.
He finally got the railing latched behind him, and as he did, a robotic voice said, "Please hold tight. Cart rising."
He grabbed the railings for dear life, expecting to be launched through the ceiling like a cannonball, but then the cart just moseyed its way up the wall like an elevator. What had been the ceiling for him became a floor, and his cart stopped about six feet up from it, next to a marking on the wall that read 4000.
The first thing he saw was his sister, waiting in the center of the floor. She waved as their eyes locked, and he grinned. The other spectators stood around her, and a few of them shouted encouragement at the finalists—most noticeably the littlest Kaiba, who received no acknowledgment from his brother for his efforts. Freaking Kaiba.
Krisalyn wasn't among the spectators. There was no reason for her to be—she probably had duties and stuff. After all, the tournament wasn't a vacation for her; it was work.
But still. He'd hoped. And his stomach fell a little at the disappointment.
The four other finalists were each in their own carts at the same level as Joey, and a glance up the tower told him each of their tracks went all the way to the top, marked along the way by lifepoint readings—3500, 3000, 2500, and so on. Zero would be the top. Joey's brain felt all backwards trying to think of losing as winning, but he hadn't come this far to fall behind now.
"Finalists!" Fuguta shouted. He'd joined the spectators in the center area of the floor. "Please prepare the monster card that will determine your turn order. Remember these cards cannot subsequently be used in the duel."
Oh, right. Joey fumbled with his deck, which he'd already snapped into his Duel Disk.
"Finalists, are you ready?"
"One sec!" Joey called out, almost dropping a stack of cards.
"What a surprise," Kaiba drawled.
"Stuff it, Rich-boy."
He finally snatched Swordsman of Landstar [500/1200] and brandished it at the floor below.
"Mr. Wheeler shows first." Fuguta raised a hand. "500 attack."
Mai showed next with 1600. Then the pharaoh with 1300. Marik chose a card with 1800.
And freaking Kaiba tossed away a 3300-attack card like it was nothing.
"The turn order will proceed as follows: Mr. Kaiba, Mr. Ishtar, Ms. Valentine, Mr. Mutou, and Mr. Wheeler."
"How's last place, Wheeler?" Kaiba sneered. "Does it feel like home?"
"It's strategetic, Rich-boy. Goin' last gives me all the advantage." It really wasn't; Joey simply didn't have enough high-point monsters to risk sacrificing one.
Kaiba snorted. "'Strategetic.' Did you even pass kindergarten on your own, or did Yuugi hold your hand through that, too?"
"What's that s'posed to mean?"
"It means you're only here because Yuugi carries you through every duel like he's been doing since Duelist Kingdom."
Joey's cheeks flushed with color. "Just 'cause he taught me don't mean—"
"You would have drowned in that tournament without him, and you'd have drowned in this one twice as fast."
Duelist Kingdom, sure. Joey hated to admit it, but it was true—he'd been a complete amateur, new to the game in every way, unable to even scrape forty cards together without Yuugi's donations. During the tournament, Yuugi's advice on and off the field had saved his hide at every turn. But Battle City he'd fought on his own. He'd won on his own.
"You're just jealous 'cause Pegasus didn't give you an invite to his fancy tourney."
Kaiba's return glare was withering. "Duelist Kingdom was a front for Pegasus Crawford's sad attempt to overtake KaibaCorp through hostile force. Of course he didn't invite me. I was also in a coma when things started, if you'll remember, which made the takeover possible to begin with. And yet, even in a vegetative state, I could have out-dueled you. Remind me—were you invited, or did Yuugi have to severely handicap himself just to get you limping through the door?"
Joey's ears burned twice as hot. Every duelist invited to Duelist Kingdom had started with two star-chips to wager on matches. It took ten to enter the castle, and it was true that Yuugi had immediately put himself at a disadvantage by giving Joey one so he could compete.
"Kaiba"—the pharaoh gave a withering glare of his own—"just duel."
"Gee, I'd love to, but I can't. Wheeler's holding everyone up. Again."
"You're the one tossin' insults, Rich-boy! I'm ready to go!"
"You don't even realize what's missing. Of course you don't. Need Yuugi to coach you through it as usual?"
Joey's heart sank. He glanced frantically around the cart. There were no instructions, no blinking lights, no emergency signals. His Duel Disk looked ready as ever, and he'd already reshuffled his deck while the others had presented their cards.
Then he noticed it—everyone else's carts were all shimmery and glowing on the front. His wasn't.
But he didn't know how to fix it.
Kaiba's expression couldn't have been more self-satisfied. "Go ahead. Ask Yuugi for help. You clearly need it."
"Joey, it's—"
"Hang on," Joey interrupted the pharaoh, face flaming. "I got this."
He most definitely did not. Joey searched the cart, but there were no buttons or switches, no cords, and once again, no instructions. Of course, Mai, Yami, and even Marik had seemed to have no problems figuring it out on their own.
"Unless you'd rather withdraw. Which'll it be, Wheeler?"
Kaiba looked like he'd won a trophy. Marik looked like he had front-row seats to his favorite sports team. Yami just looked blank, which was perhaps the worst of all. Joey had thought he'd become a true duelist over the course of the tournament so far.
But he was still a burden.
"It's a local network, Joey!"
The voice wasn't Yami's—it was Duke's.
Joey glanced down just as Dice-boy mimed flipping a switch on the inside of his arm.
And Joey had never felt more like an idiot.
He turned his Duel Disk over, found the stupid switch, flipped it. His cart lit up with shimmer and glowy lights to match the others, and his Duel Disk flashed with the message Duel Start.
Kaiba looked ready to make another dig, but Duke shouted first.
"Don't let Kaiba get to you! The only reason he even has the company he's so proud of is because Gozaburo did all the heavy lifting to build it. So who's really being carried?"
Kaiba's glare instantly switched targets. "Big words, Devlin. Speak to me again when you can sign checks for your own 'company' without Daddy's approval."
"Brutal." Marik giggled to himself. "Now I see why the rod is the only item with a concealed blade."
Joey wished he could have been glad for Duke's help, but he was still smarting from needing it at all. He couldn't even look at the pharaoh.
Kaiba drew his first hand and summoned Kaiser Sea Horse [1700/1650] in attack mode, playing two cards facedown with it. His beefy blue-and-purple sea creature snarled at the other players, and it seemed to be looking right at Joey when it hefted its spear.
"Since I can't attack on the first round, that ends my turn." Kaiba was definitely looking right at Joey as he said, "Let's see what pathetic defense you can scrounge up."
Stupid rich, entitled, overbearing, egotrilectrical—
Joey looked at his cards. He still had one to draw in his first turn phase, but it wasn't a good start; he not only had no strong monsters—he had no monsters at all. The worst opening hand possible.
He'd been so confident walking into the finals, and suddenly it was like the start of Battle City all over again. He could hear his dad's sandpaper laugh and his mocking voice: "Think you're good enough, boy?"
"One way to find out," Joey had told him.
The danger with that, of course, was the finding out.
Once the duel began, Yami expected his duelist's instincts to kick in, to ground him in the moment and calm his jittery mind. No matter what else was going on, he'd always been able to find calm on the dueling field. When nothing else made sense, a duel always did.
Yet as he watched Marik draw a card, watched the Egyptian smirk and summon Lord Poison [1500/1000] to the field, he was still thinking of all the variables and stakes and realizing he hadn't even looked at his own hand of cards yet.
When he looked down, his fingers were trembling.
"And I'll use my tribute summon to sacrifice Lord Poison to bring out Helpoemer [2000/1400]," Marik said. "In attack mode."
His blue, moaning monster took shape on the field. It was hard to tell whether the creature was strapped to a thick cross or if it carried one as a shield on its back.
Marik ended his turn with a single facedown card, and he met Yami's eyes from across the tower and winked.
Below the edge of the cart, out of sight, Yami flexed his empty hand.
Mai played Amazoness Fighter [1500/1300] in attack mode. The card had an effect that negated all battle damage to its owner for any fight it was involved in—a risky move in the one duel where the goal was to lose lifepoints, but maybe Mai wanted to get a feel for the other players' motives before she fully committed.
Yami sure wished he knew what he wanted to do, especially since his turn was approaching with every second.
"I also play Graceful Charity," Mai announced. In silence, she drew three cards, evaluated her hand, and discarded two.
"Turn end."
In his chest, Yami's heart thudded slowly, like it hoped to escape notice.
"My turn." He hesitated, glancing at his hand again. He held Mystical Refpanel, Premature Burial, Seven Tools of the Bandit, Buster Blader, and Obnoxious Celtic Guard.
In dueling, each draw was significant. Every single card mattered. Out of the forty cards in a deck, a single match was lucky to see half. Even then, order mattered greatly—certain cards were almost unbeatable together and almost useless separated. Before a draw phase, Yami always knew exactly which card he wanted and which card would be second best, third best, and so on. He'd always known that part of believing in his deck was trusting that he would draw the cards he needed exactly when he needed them.
But he didn't know what he needed.
He drew Magic Formula. After a deep breath, he slid it into his hand next to Premature Burial.
"What's the matter, Pharaoh?" Marik cocked his head to the side, raised his eyebrows. "You seem sluggish. Weight of the world on your shoulders?"
"I play the Obnoxious Celtic Guard [1400/1200]," Yami said. His cloaked, elven warrior appeared on the field, hefting a sword and shield. "And I'll add one card facedown."
He slid Mystical Refpanel into the first of his magic-and-trap slots. The Obnoxious Celtic Guard couldn't be destroyed in battle with a monster possessing 1900 attack points or higher, and Mystical Refpanel allowed the redirection of one spell card. Together, they should give him some control of the field, some flexibility in responding to whatever was to come.
At least, that was the hope. He didn't dare look at his cards again only to realize a superior strategy had escaped his notice.
"Turn end," he said tightly.
"You take your strategies very seriously."
Yami winced at the echo of Yori's voice in his mind. He could still see her as she'd been that day in the Domino arcade, her hair almost maroon under the dim lights, her smirk fierce as she countered his every move on the field.
"I never pull punches," he'd said, matching her move for move, smirk for smirk.
"I like guys who go for the win." Just as his heart had skipped a beat, she'd flipped Dante for him to see, his first glimpse of the dragon in person. "I've got one right here."
She was witty and commanding, a formidable opponent and an even fiercer friend.
And she would never be herself again unless he could take Marik down.
"A'ight, you ain't seen nothin' yet!" Joey's voice broke through the fog, and Yami shook himself back to the game.
Joey summoned Gearfried the Iron Knight [1800/1600] in attack mode. The shining, black-armored knight readied himself on the field before Joey like a sprinter waiting for the starting gun.
"An' goin' last means I get to attack first." Joey skewered Kaiba with a glare. "So I'm about to make sushi outta your sea horse, Kaiba!"
Yami knew it was a trap, but he said nothing. He'd recognized the look in Joey's eyes immediately following Kaiba's taunts, and he knew that shouting a warning now would be more damaging to Joey than letting him take the fall. They all had their own battles to face.
Not to mention, with his own mind struggling to stay in the game, it would be hypocrisy to think he could help someone else even if Joey would have welcomed the effort.
Gearfried flashed forward, quick as wind, and swung one of his silver blades toward Kaiba's monster.
But Kaiser Sea Horse vanished.
"So gullible, Wheeler." Kaiba's tone was cold. "Make yourself predictable, and anyone can use you."
One of Kaiba's facedown cards rose, revealing an hourglass with a monster in each half. It was a spell card, one Yami knew to be greatly coveted in the trading world. Yugi's grandpa had been trying to acquire one for years.
"I activate Delayed Harvest," Kaiba said. "If my tribute summon wasn't expended on my last turn, I can tribute during my opponent's turn once he declares an attack."
There was only one card Kaiba would tribute for—especially since Kaiser Sea Horse counted as two tributes for a light-type monster.
And sure enough—
Blinding white light split the air where Kaiba's monster had been, and as everyone shielded their eyes, the roar of a dragon vibrated the walls of the metal tower.
Blue-Eyes White Dragon [3000/2500]. Kaiba had known exactly what to draw for.
"Big deal," Joey scowled, still squinting as the light settled around the white, hunkered dragon. "You coulda just summoned that on your turn. Way I see it, that spell card is trash."
Yami grimaced. Joey had noticed a key detail—the spell card seemed to be a waste—but he'd jumped to the wrong conclusion. Kaiba was one of the top duelists in the world, and he knew the worth of every card. Which meant . . .
As if on cue, Joey's knight slashed his blade against Blue-Eyes' armored underbelly. The blade glanced off harmlessly, and the knight grunted while the dragon stared down at him as coldly as her master.
"Since you already declared it," Kaiba said, "your attack follows through. But now that my monster is more powerful than yours, you take the difference as damage instead of me. That's 1200 points of damage."
Joey scowled. "Yeah, I know how attacks work, Rich-boy."
"I can never be sure which parts of this game you actually grasp."
Yami clenched his jaw. There was no way Kaiba wanted Joey to take damage, not in a game where zero lifepoints was the goal and the last-standing player was eliminated. Kaiba would want Joey to be that last-standing player. He would want to use Joey's rage to lower his own lifepoints.
Kaiba's second facedown card lurked on the field, and Yami had a good idea what it had to be.
Joey stared down at his lifepoint counter. He poked it. "Hey, why ain't this thing goin' down?"
While he was focused on his Duel Disk, Kaiba's second card rose. It had the purple border of a trap card, and the illustration showed a grim reaper in a ring of fire.
Reaper's Ritual, a card that bled its owner dry but offered intense power in return. It wasn't Kaiba's usual style; he'd adapted for the duel, just as any top duelist would.
"This trap can only be used if I have a single monster on the field and my opponent would take damage from something other than that monster's attack. My opponent's damage is transferred to my lifepoints instead, and the same amount of points feeds my monster's attack power."
Blue-Eyes gave a rumbling growl as her attack power rose from 3000 to 4200. At the same moment, Kaiba's lifepoints dropped to 2800, and his cart glided up the wall, stopping just above the 3000-point marker. He was the first to rise, the undeniable lead in the current mess of a duel.
In short, Kaiba had pulled no punches. Despite the obstacles, he'd gone straight for the win.
And Yami was still paralyzed with indecision.
Wheeler finished out his pathetic turn with two facedown cards, blustering like everything had been a part of his strategy. Seto tuned him out before he finished, all his attention focused now on Marik.
He'd seized the lead just as he'd intended to. Now it was time to seal the deal. The current duel had too many opponents and too many variables, which meant the surest way forward was the quickest. While the others mulled in indecision, probing the field to determine enemy weaknesses and motivations, Seto would surge ahead and secure his desired results, leaving them scratching their heads and wondering how the rug had been pulled.
He would finish the duel in three turns. One had already gone according to plan. The next two would as well.
Seto narrowed his eyes on Marik, and he drew a card.
Ahead of him, his dragon shifted. She tilted her head, glancing back at him from the corner of a slanted blue eye. He smirked. His strategy rested solely on Blue-Eyes.
And Blue-Eyes never let him down.
He played another two cards facedown, emptying his hand down to a single card.
"Blue-Eyes." She perked up at her name, and the beginnings of a roar rumbled in her chest. "Blast away Helpoemer."
Marik had been watching Yuugi, but he turned at the attack. His field was empty of facedown cards, and his monster had no abilities that could stop the attack, so as Blue-Eyes roared, Helpoemer melted in a pillar of crackling white energy.
Marik's lifepoints melted down to 1800. His cart rose above Seto's, looming like a goal, a target.
"My monster has a special effect," Marik purred, leaning against the railing of his cart to peer down. "Whenever it's destroyed in battle, my opponent loses a random card each turn."
Seto had been well aware. It was a cost he had to shoulder.
But as he moved his single card toward the graveyard, Marik swung once more toward Yuugi.
"We're all opponents here, so toss a card, Pharaoh. The one on the far left should do nicely."
Something in Seto's stomach tightened each time Marik called Yuugi 'pharaoh.' It tightened even more when Yuugi went along with it.
But he couldn't allow himself to be distracted with nonsense. All that mattered was lowering his lifepoints to zero over the next two turns and dragging Marik down to follow him. After everything he'd experienced with Mokuba at the dock, he'd become an expert on tied losses. It was his trademark to never make a mistake and especially to never make a mistake twice. Marik had forged the path to his own failure by teaching Seto the exact skills he needed for this duel before he'd even known what it would entail.
Poetic justice was a beautiful thing.
"That ends my turn," Seto said.
One turn left. He and Marik would be the first match of the finals.
And Marik would regret ever setting foot in Battle City.
Note: Still alive, haha. Thank you to everyone who has checked in on me. I'm okay. I hope you're all doing well, too. Right now, I'm working really hard on editing the novel I'll be pitching to an editor in two weeks. After that, hopefully I can catch up on responding to messages and reviews. Thank you so much to everyone who's let me know they're enjoying the story. You're all amazingly supportive, and I appreciate it. Catch you next month (hopefully with an editor interested in my work, fingers crossed)!