Chapter 23: Welcome to The Underworld
There were a lot of opponents over the years. Many of them talked a big game while failing to deliver any real results. Some of them were too strong to surpass their stalwart defense, and some were too fast for defense to factor in. Of course, a handful were similar to bottle rockets, shining brightly long enough to achieve fame and recognition but fizzling out soon after that star moment. Unbeknownst to the duelist from the draw of the first card, an opponent can fall into any of those categories. Professional duelists were impossible to predict.
Benjamin Painter was prepared, that was sure. His grand plan hadn't taken hold yet, but he knew what cards his opponent would bring.
"Here we go," he announced. In every way, Ben seemed unassuming. His curly hair was the faintest shade of strawberry blond and covered his face and chin. He always stood around the average height no matter what room he was in. But he was clever, as he was about to prove to everyone watching.
"I'll activate Confiscation." At the cost of 1000 of his Life Points, Ben received an opportunity to see into his opponent's hand and select one card for the other player to discard. The speakers in the arena cued him in to the shock and awe voiced by the announcers. Confiscation was one among the growing list of cards that spent time forbidden from professional duels. In fact, it reached an impressive, though not record-setting, eighteen consecutive months restricted from professional play. The ban was dropped only that morning, and Ben jumped at the opportunity. The last time Confiscation fell from the list, the removal only lasted for one week.
No one had to guess why the card was forbidden so often. At a perfectly reasonable cost, the user was able to see what cards the opponent held, gaining insight into possible strategies upcoming soon, and also the chance to discard any one of those cards to interrupt whatever strategy was predicted. The effect was particularly useful for Ben just then: His opponent's hand contained Destiny Hero – Defender and four pieces of Exodia the Forbidden One! Only one more and the duel would not end well!
"Discard the Left Arm of the Forbidden One," Ben declared. As his opponent complied with the effect, he commented, "You would not be known as the 'True Exodia' if losing a single card to the Graveyard were enough to break your strategy. To that end, I activate Exchange. I want to take Exodia the Forbidden One directly into my hand for safekeeping." Now the duel's judge was forced to step up and retrieve the named card from Ben's opponent, walking it around the field where he could hand it off to Ben.
As a fair exchange, the other player took Ben's copy of Premature Burial. That was exactly what Ben expected. Who wouldn't want the chance to reap the benefit of reviving the most useful monsters in the Graveyard for a second use? Ben was hopeful of that because he had Mystical Space Typhoon already set on the field. His opponent would drop 800 Life Points only to watch his monster end up right back in the discard pile.
"My next move is to summon Masked Ninja Ebisu (4/1200/1800)." Standing larger than life, an oversized man wearing a form-fitting ninja outfit and a plastic mask appeared on the field. He didn't look like the sneaky type, but a snap of his fingers preceded an explosion by both face-down cards on the other side of the field. "Once per turn, return a number of Spell or Trap cards to the hand, equal to the number of Ninja on my field. As much trouble as Appropriate has caused so far, that is definitely a target. Take back the one next to it, too." Ben's existing monster—Blade Armor Ninja (4/2200/1000)—increased the potency of the effect, clearing the field of one potential pitfall and the card that seemed to be the crux of the opponent's strategy.
"I'll remove one Xyz Material from Blade Armor Ninja so he can attack twice during this Battle Phase." He thought hard about his opponent and the cards played thus far. The likelihood of the only face-down monster on the field being a powerful one was slim. Stronger monsters made less effective searchers. There were a few present in the opponent's deck—like the Destiny Hero – Defender Ben already saw in the other player's hand, but even if another copy of Defender were already on the field, neither Ninja could destroy it, so why not gamble on the greater damage?
"Master Ninja Ebisu (1200) attacks your monster," Ben declared. When the green ninja bounded over to his target and performed a powerful spin kick, damage increased by the sheer weight behind each leg, the monster flipped up to reveal Hiro's Shadow Scout (2/650/500), a blue creature whose single, penetrating eye bore down into Ben's deck, forcing him to draw three cards.
To himself, he thought, Good thing I removed Appropriate from the field. I still get to draw, but now he doesn't get to do the same. I wonder if the announcers are telling everyone how smart that was. Lucky, too.
"In response to the activation of Hiro's Shadow Scout, I choose to activate a Trap called Appropriate." There was no obvious display of the card's effect by the hologram projectors, but Ben already knew what it would do. As soon as Hiro's eye revealed the three cards from the top of his deck—Earth Armor Ninja, Ninja Grandmaster Hanzo, and Ninjitsu Art of Decoy—a man appeared behind the other player, reaching over his head to his deck and drawing two separate cards.
Ben nodded, acknowledging his opponent's steadfastness. It was helpful to have even more of his own monsters in his hand, even if he would be unable to summon them until the next turn. And as long as he held Exodia the Forbidden One in his hand, he didn't have to worry about how the duel would end.
Pressing a button on his Duel Disk, Ben said, "Blade Armor Ninja (2200) attacks directly." The shrouded warrior clad in purple and dual-wielding blades soared swiftly through the air, landing a well-placed slash attack into the other player's body too quickly even for Ben's eye to follow. Ben pressed the same button a second time and Blade Armor Ninja struck again, building tremendous damage against the opponent. Before ending his turn, he set one card on the field.
"It will be my honor," he said, "to bring down the 'Unstoppable Dave' Strickland."
Ben 6900: Dave 5400 – 2200 – 2200 = 1000.
With that little smirk that had become typical of his being shoved into a corner, Dave acknowledged the compliment graciously. He had always been a bit of a showoff in school at Duel Academy, but the life of a professional duelist humbled him quickly. Like all new duelists, he suffered heavy losses during his first year, though he did set a rookie record for win percentage. Only during his second year and with a great deal of study and constant deck refinement did he begin his reputation for reliably summoning Exodia.
Could he do it again?
He ran his fingers through his hair and felt the single bead of sweat that formed just next to the hairline. Having a nickname like "Unstoppable" provided a lot of pressure. He was anxious just thinking about which card he hoped to draw next.
Better let the cards decide, he thought to himself as he took the top card. Pot of Avarice! Good card. It would give him the chance to retrieve Exodia pieces from his Graveyard and continue the draw engine that was his deck. But it wouldn't retrieve the Exodia head Ben captured into his hand. Dave never carried his own copy of Exchange because it would be counterproductive for an Exodia deck. But there was one rule he could exploit in his favor.
"I summon Chainsaw Insect (4/2400/0)." A large, six-legged mite with mandibles revving like chainsaw blades crawled out of the ground and onto the field. It was one of the cards Dave drew during Ben's turn; Right Leg of the Forbidden One was the other. Following Dave's electronic instruction, the insect charged at Blade Armor Ninja.
"My monster is not destroyed," Ben announced with the activation of his face-down Ninjitsu Art of Decoy. Although it appeared that Blade Armor Ninja suffered the bite of those terrible mandibles, a puff of smoke revealed that Dave's insect actually attacked a log decoy, leaving the real Ninja unharmed.
You and I both know the destruction of your monster wasn't important, Dave thought. He wanted to say it aloud, but too much bragging could get him reprimanded by his teammates. Besides, pride often led to a spectacular fall, and he was hoping for the win.
What he did say was, "Chainsaw Insect's attack comes with a drawback: You get to draw one card. But doing so activates Appropriate, giving me two new cards, too." Exactly the card he needed! "I activate Cup of Ace." A golden goblet appeared on the field, slowly filled with delectable wine. Following a fifty-fifty chance, the goblet ran over on Ben's side. When the liquid touched his field, his deck released two more cards.
"Now that you hold nine cards," Dave said through that smirk, "I play Heavy Slump." His last face-down card! The Goblin of Greed appeared on Ben's side of the field, weeping uncontrollably as all the cards from Ben's hand were shuffled into the deck in exchange for the draw of a measly two cards!
But Exodia the Forbidden One did not belong to Ben and so could not join his deck. The judge carried the card back to Dave and dropped it in his Graveyard instead. Immediately after, Dave was given two more cards by Appropriate. "Now is a good time to play Pot of Avarice." Taking five monsters from his Graveyard, including the two pieces of Exodia, he watched the judge shuffle them into the deck. When the shuffling ended, Dave drew two cards off the top. They were not the Exodia pieces he needed, but they would help him get started.
"I play Dark World Dealings." He felt a rush of positive nostalgia as he remembered the good friend who gave him that card. "Each of us draws a card and discards a card. Of course, Appropriate activates when you draw to give me two additional cards." The Left Arm of the Forbidden One! So close now. He had to be close. His deck was down to a mere fraction of its starting girth.
"One Day of Peace," Dave said, announcing the name of his next Spell. The mandibles on his Chainsaw Insect stopped buzzing, and both Ben's ninjas dropped their weapons as a strange calm fell over the field. For their tacit agreement not to harm one another for the length of the turn, each player was able to draw one card. But Appropriate kicked in again and gave Dave two additional cards for a total of three…
Including Exodia the Forbidden One.
Laying all five cards across the board, Dave watched the mighty form of the only invincible monster enter this world from the void and lay waste to Ben's field. With a single flash of almighty power, Exodia seized the power from Ben's Duel Disk and shut it down.
Ben 6900: Dave 1000 – Automatic Winner
Quinton wrapped his arm around Dave's neck tightly. It felt like he was being strangled by a bad chiropractor. "I love this guy," he said, intending the expression in a fraternal manner. Quinton was the type of guy to ignore personal space when it was inconvenient for him. "You see the way he pulled out Exodia even though the other guy tried to take, it, away!" He punctuated those last words like they were separate sentences.
Jesse groaned at Quinton's over-the-top display, but his smile betrayed his equal appreciation for Dave's feat. "You'd better let him up for air. We might need him to do it again."
The release on his neck felt great, though Dave still felt a slight crick. "Yeah. So far, the Appropriate strategy seems to be working for me."
"Use whatever strategy keeps you winning," Quinton said. "That's my philosophy."
"And such a profound one," Dave teased. Luckily his teammate laughed.
"Most importantly," Jesse said, "your win tonight means the Sacred SeeDs progress to the final round of the playoffs. Now we go Best-Of-Nine style against whomever wins tomorrow's match and the championship is ours for the season!"
At dinner, jocularity ensued with the necessary levels of imbibing to accompany a national championship. Dave usually refrained, partaking perhaps in a single drink during the course of the night, but Quinton was not one to pay attention to his limits. He lived his life without regret—if he couldn't remember what he did the previous night, it just meant he must have had a great time. And if Jesse had to be his crutch in order to walk successfully, it just meant he was sharing his "great time" with his friends.
"You didn't need to drag me out of there," Quinton insisted. "I'm not that drunk."
Dave said, "When you press your face up against the fish tank and start singing Just Keep Swimming from Finding Nemo, it's time to go home."
The city at night was just as bustling as day. The sun had set almost an hour ago, but it was still early. Everyone going home at this hour was missing out on everything the night life had to offer. Anyone already drunk was a lightweight. Streets were lit brightly by neon lights giving directions to the places most interested in taking your money at night. One particular place they passed was not inviting at all. The staircase descended below street level. A burly man stood out front, adorned in a t-shirt tight enough that he might as well be bare-chested. The entrance sat in shadow, devoid of any illumination. The only indication of business was a sign that read, "Welcome to The Underworld."
"Oh! We should go in there!" Quinton shouted.
"We can' go in there," Jesse said, failing the proper pronunciation of can't. He hadn't reached "trashed" status, but he had enough drinks to slur his words. Some logic remained, though, as he explained, "Tha's where they do black market-type dueling."
"That's exactly why it will be fun! Let's go see what the wannabes look like."
Dave protested, "I don't think that's smart. Didn't Rick say that even going into a place like that can destroy our reputations in the professional world?"
Quinton insisted that Rick was just being overdramatic when he said that. "As long as we don't gamble or play, there's no problem." He cupped his hand around Dave's chin, holding him by both cheeks. "Besides that. No one will see us."
Curious and a bit sarcastic, Dave asked, "Because we're invisible?"
"No," Quinton laughed. "They won't recognize us."
Again, Dave argued, "I just won a big duel today, and your hair is so bright red it looks like it's on fire."
Suddenly Quinton seemed to have an epiphany, brought on by Dave's advice. "We should wear masks!" Jesse tried to usher him on, insisting that it was time for bed because he had a headache. But Quinton had a target, and no amount of pleading would take him off his trajectory. He wormed away from the inebriated grip of his teammate and stumbled down the stairs toward the burly bouncer.
The bouncer crossed his arms over his chest, showing off the sinew that pulled his skin taut. He looked powerful enough to stop a bullet with his pectorals. Much to Dave's earlier point, he recognized the three famous duelists upon approach. Only one restriction held him from letting them in right away.
"Ten bucks a head," he said. His voice was thick and deep like a foghorn. It seemed perfect considering his powerful appearance.
Without missing a beat, Quinton said loudly and wildly, "Newbie! Pay the man!"
Dave assumed he was "Newbie." Pulling out his wallet, he searched his billfold while Quinton dragged Jesse inside past the bouncer. There was nothing to do but shake his head. His seniors were borderline irresponsible, but it would be even worse for him to abandon them to their own devices.
Handing over two twenties, Dave told the bouncer, "Maybe it's the shadows or your physique or your voice, or maybe parts all three but you've got a strong character about you. I even like the shaved head. It's very Ving Rhames."
Still looking tough despite himself, the bouncer let the beginnings of a smile pull at the corners of his lips. "That's exactly what I was going for, God rest his soul." He offered Dave a whole twenty-dollar bill back—a thank-you and reward for the compliment.
But Dave pushed it back. "You keep it, my good man. Consider it a tip for doing a good job on what looks like a really quiet night."
As Dave opened the door and stepped one foot inside the club, the bouncer stopped him. "Be careful. You might get recognized real quick. Make sure that guy doesn't get himself into trouble."
Sheepishly grinning, Dave said, "He's already pretty drunk."
"Drunk I can handle. That's typical. But that place is something else for people like you."
Unsure exactly what that meant, Dave made a silent vow to heed the friendly bouncer's advice. One step inside the establishment and Dave suddenly had a much better idea what the bouncer was saying.
The first thing that caught his eye was the dress code. Many of the men were dressed in torn clothes as if they had already lost in fisticuffs. Some eschewed the decoration called "shirt." More preferred to lose their pants. Alcohol was served at a mere beck and call by women adorned in tight tank tops and skirts short enough to defeat the purpose. It was difficult to be sure of the greater cause for men to lose their clothes—drunkenness or gambling past their means.
Potentially immoral behavior was not limited to clothing, or lack thereof. The biggest crowd away from the bar surrounded an iron cage that reached all the way from the floor to the fourteen-foot-high ceiling. There were six nearly identical cages on the floor, each offering temporary housing to duelists engaged in battle… which was not a metaphor.
The Underworld was most renowned for violence. Practiced freely inside the cage at the duelists' discretion, the only real catalyst for wanting to damage the opponent dwelled deep within the consciousness of the player's mind. Inside the nearest cage, the mechanical man Jinzo destroyed an opposing monster and dealt significant damage. As the Life Point counter dropped, Jinzo's dueling owner ran across the field and jump-kicked the other player. If the blunt damage from the kick didn't hurt enough, falling backward into the iron bars created the necessary bodily harm.
"People actually pay to play like this?" Dave asked. He'd heard rumors, but seeing was a whole different level of believing.
"Deep down inside," Quinton explained, "people are sadistic jerks. Everyone just wants to see someone bleed. Look no further than boxing, NASCAR, and So You Think You Can Dance." Though his point may be made by alcohol, it seemed no less true. The spectators spurred on the violence even more rigorously than the duelists themselves seemed comfortable with. It was a shock no one was killed.
"Once in a while, that happens," Jesse said. He had gone to the bar to purchase some coffee and sipped slowly as he spoke. "That's one of the reasons it's forbidden for professionals to associate with these dregs. They sometimes kill each other."
Dave could hardly wrap his mind around the concept of adding injury to insult by physically harming one's opponent equal to a Life Point loss. "We really shouldn't be here."
"Just a few minutes," Quinton groaned. "I just want to enjoy the great equalizer of Duel Monsters." Ambiguous and clouded in a veil of drunkenness, his point was not completely lost once Dave followed his gaze to another crowd. In small box elevated above the floor was a somewhat fancier setup. The seats were cushioned and appeared to be high quality. Hors d'oeuvres were served by women with the same "uniform" as the main floor, but the people they served were of the high society variety—dressed in tailored suits and full-length gowns. Even the "classier" people in the city enjoyed watching two duelists brawl. Dave felt sick to his stomach, and he hadn't even been drinking.
Jittering with excitement and possible nerve damage, Quinton said, "I want to try it!"
"Not a chance!" Dave protested. Immediately, he could see the potential consequences. If someone famous like Quinton tried out a fighting duel, there would be many in the crowd who wanted him to lose and many who wanted him to win. Every time he received or delivered a punch or kick, tensions would run high between the groups until someone snapped and started a spectator brawl. With a celebrity involved, who knows how big that fight could get? And that one bouncer alone wouldn't be enough to stop it before the arena took some serious damage.
Dave stood strong. "You're going to stand right here with me and watch. Then in five minutes, we're leaving."
While Quinton enjoyed the irony of fighter-type monsters and duelists pummeling one another and Jesse was enthralled with whatever was closest to the coffee, Dave felt his attention drawn to the farthest cage match. Within the iron bars was a giant hummingbird—body black as midnight with an aura fiery orange. There were many monsters rendered gigantic by the hologram systems; that was not what caught Dave's attention.
The duelist using the bird was a snarling woman. When she punched, her fists were clenched so tightly her knuckles became sheer white. And she was fierce. Each punch drew blood from her opponent and from herself. After one particularly nasty strike, she stopped to lick the blood from her knuckles. Was it enjoyment of her own pain or was she reveling in her opponent's blood?
Either way, that was not what Dave saw. It was subtle and possibly a figment of his imagination. He watched the duel intently, waiting for the next turn so he could see it happen once more.
The girl ended her turn with only a single monster on the field—that gargantuan hummingbird. The display board only gave it 2500 points. It wasn't the strongest monster, especially when the other player still had Abyss Soldier on the field. The kind of people who settled for dueling in The Underworld were the kind who believed monsters needed to have high attack power, sometimes to the extent their decks lacked sufficient technique. Dave knew that the opponent quite likely held a stronger monster in his hand.
Sure enough, the guy played Abyss Warrior, another monster with four stars. The guy had more skill than Dave gave him credit for. He overlayed his two monsters to play an Xyz monster called Snowdust Giant (4/2200/800), a hulking blue beast with spiked ice providing armor to its joints. The guy dropped one Xyz material monster and showed a few of the cards in his hand. Suddenly the Giant sprouted three giant Ice Counters on its body. Even though his vantage point hidden within the crowd restricted his vision, Dave could see the result of those Ice Counters. The hummingbird's 2500 attack points dropped to 1900. It could be destroyed by the Snowdust Giant.
Except there was no attack. The duelist tried to declare an attack, but the Giant wouldn't budge. Apparently the hummingbird had an effect that prevented it from being targeted for battle.
The woman duelist with the sadistic touch took her next turn. She skipped over her Main Phase completely. She didn't need it. Skipping straight to the Battle Phase, her hummingbird reached across the field, over the Giant's head and straight for the opponent's heart.
Dave's attention was laser-focused on the attack. Because she was dealing Life Point damage, the woman had the right to punch her opponent, and she prepared to do so gleefully. She dashed across the field and reared back to plant her fist down as hard as she could. Simultaneously as the hummingbird's beak struck, the woman's fist cracked her opponent's jaw.
Well, almost simultaneously. Focused on only that, Dave saw without doubt that the hummingbird struck first. Right in the heart. And the man reacted to it. Cardiac problems occurred even before the woman broke his jaw. Somehow, that hummingbird physically manifested for its attack.
A little voice inside Dave's mind reminded him that he knew more about god cards than any other duelist around. None he knew of resembled a hummingbird, but he recognized the same effects as when Slifer trapped the souls of other duelists. What could he do? It was no exaggeration that his reputation would suffer irreparable damage if he were seen in The Underworld. But wasn't his greater duty to protect all the clueless duelists who would find themselves critically wounded at the will of a god card?
Or was there a third option?
He whipped out his cell phone and scrolled through his contacts. The call was answered after two rings. "Dave!" the voice said happily. "What's going on, man? I heard about your big win today."
"Hey, Andy," he said. He also felt relief to hear his old companion's voice after so long apart. "I have a quick favor to ask. How are your contacts within The Underworld?"
Hi, everyone! I feel awful about taking so long to update this story, but everyone deserves a little time off for the summer. Besides, I've been working on some other projects that I hope will be ready sooner than my current progress would suggest.
Obviously, this chapter's story is not done yet. A lot of people enjoy the long chapters, but in order to complete a chapter of 7-8000 words that I'm happy with, I could have spent another month on this. In order to facilitate more frequent updates, I'll experiment with shorter chapters. Soon enough, Dave and Andy will devise a strategy to rein in that new card-reintroducing another character we haven't seen in a while. Stay tuned!