As soon as the helicopter had approached the stadium, reporters began flocking. When word of Jack Atlas' arrival had broken, they turned and sprinted en masse. Hearing that Yusei Fudo had also just signed up to the competition had caused enough disturbance to warrant riot police being summoned to the scene and reporters tried to shoulder through the crowds of Duellists and the Duellists lost patience and tried stopping them.
"How long has it been?" As soon as Yusei had handed his form in, the group had escaped deeper into the complex to hide inside a secure locker room. Jack was leaning against the door with all the movement of a boulder as Crow broke the question.
"Four years?" Standing in an open space, Yusei had the posture of a seasoned guard with an arrow-straight back and no-nonsense folded arms. "There was that charity drive in France when I had a business trip."
"You took on the Duel Computer with donated cards." Bouncing on his heels across from Crow, Leo was in sharp danger of actually hitting the roof. "Twelve turns to win, 2800 Life Points remaining."
Yusei gave him an evaluating look. "Keeping up the good work." It wasn't a statement but not quite a question. Just enough confusion to stop Leo from bouncing.
"So, what's the plan?" Leaning against the sinks, Crow was occasionally sliding to either side to stop Leo preening at his reflection. "You didn't say much on the phone."
"An inside source has told me Yliaster plans to infiltrate the competition." Exactly who is inside source was not up for discussion. Yusei didn't want any more of his friends knowing about the arrangement he had with Nanashi. "First place comes with untold wealth and privileges. We just have to make sure they don't get them."
"Correct me if I'm wrong," For the first time since blocking the door, Jack spoke up. "But aren't there a few thousand teams outside, ready to stamp our heads in given half the chance?" Colourful metaphor aside, he did have a point. "Why doesn't Yliaster just arrange an 'accident' and have us taken out of the competition?"
"Because we'd only have to kick up a fuss to taint the entire tournament." Though not the winners, both World Champions – active or not – complaining would be enough to spark a media frenzy. "If they try anything, we break the news somebody is tampering with the competition. Instant investigation and the world finds out their secret." Communicating with glances, the three brothers made it clear that a similar ploy would work for more fatal means. Out of protective instinct for Leo, none of them said anything about it.
"Did you guys remember to pre-register?" Not to be deterred from the biggest tournament of the century, Leo was already back thinking of the competition ahead.
"I had a slight issue." Pulling his own phone out, Yusei checked to make sure the application was still installed. "But it's all working now."
As part of an effort to streamline the process of signing people up, the organisers had released a small program for potential attendees. Anybody who wanted to attend could download it to a phone or computer and pre-register themselves. That way, the paper forms submitted only had to confirm the Duellist had actually turned up and anybody else could be removed from the tournament database. In a cunning trick to cull any reporters or early scoops, the program was simply a shell waiting to receive information for the confirmed competitors. For some inexplicable reason beyond the fathoming of mere mortals, Yusei had found his name constantly rejected. Maybe it was the few thousand hilarious people who enjoyed spamming his name into the system with phoney information. It took a very polite phone call and a video conference with the organisers before the issue was cleared up.
"I spoke," There was a distinct yet polite cough that could have sounded like the word 'flirted' in the right context. "With the lady at the desk." Crow seemed unashamed from the looks his brothers were giving him after Leo's prompt. "We'll be getting information sometime 'soon'." Air quotes skipped around the word. 'Soon' could mean by the end of the next week where bureaucracy. "Still no idea what these cards are for." Pulling out their own thin rectangles of plain white plastic, the others were equally stumped. They had been handed them over the counter minutes before but given no further instructions.
"Oh, ooo!" Not quite the little boy Yusei still thought of him as but not the young professional people expected him to be in the team, Leo was still just as excitable as ever but with a touch more restraint granted by the years as he jumped with one hand raised for a question. "What if we actually win?"
"That's why we're here." Even though Jack answered, Crow was the only one who actually understood the meaning behind the question.
"There are some things I need to do. Might take a few months." Catching Yusei's eye, he telepathically passed along a message.
"Back to work for me. You wouldn't believe the trouble I'm in for taking this time off." Memories of screaming department heads drifted across his mind before being casually dismissed. They were probably loving the additional paperwork and restricted powers while he was away.
"Tournaments." Last to cross the mental finishing line, Jack kept his answer short. "I'll see you there." Let down by the team, it was just the pick-up Leo needed as their phones went off in tandem.
"Congratulations on joining the Pegasus Trinidad Tournament." Reading the scrolling text aloud, Yusei kept a paranoid eye out for any invasive software. "To prove each team is as strong as the sum of their parts, you will each participate in individual challenges. Please report to the location on the attached map for further instructions." A badge appeared on his screen beside an interactive map to his destination. "Group 36."
"Group 8." Leaning away from the door, Jack smoothed his jacket.
"Group 16." Suddenly nervous, Leo was also filled with excitement. It was a miracle his stomach didn't turn inside out.
"Group 20." Numbers and locations spread out, no member of any group would be able to reach one another for help. It was tactical, cutting them off from one another to see who could survive.
"Leo and I have been staying with a woman called Leslie." Slipping his phone away, Crow glanced at both his brothers. "We'll send you the address, meet up after the challenges."
"Fine." Already longing for the life of pampered comfort he had been at less than an hour before, Jack concentrated on some breathing exercises to keep calm.
"Just remember." Laser-focused and with comparable levels of energy, Leo could probably have run across the continent with the excitable energy he was feeling right then. "We're here to win."
"With you on our side," Holding the door open, Yusei let the rest of them out before him. "How can we lose?"
Arriving at the destination on his map, Yusei had seamlessly blended with the crowd. It was easiest to avoid detection by simply moving through the rotating masses. By the time anybody thought they had seen him, he was already swept away by the constantly moving current of people. Their destination was a large building with the sort of vibe that only came from vast amounts of paper. From the bright lights and towering shelves inside, it was immediately obvious as a library.
"Ladies and gentlemen." A man Yusei momentarily named 'Blue-Suit' was standing atop the main staircase before the crowd of a few hundred and was calling for silence. "You have the pleasure of standing before the building where Charles Darwin mapped out the route he took during his study On The Origin of Species for publication in the American Journal of Science." Something rankled at Yusei but Blue-Suit was already moving on. "Yours is possibly one of the toughest challenges we will be attempting today. In the building behind me is the largest library in Oceanside." The challenge was already becoming clearer to the group. "There is a book somewhere in that library. Between pages two hundred thirty-seven and two hundred thirty-eight is the answer to this challenge." An old familiar instinct was circling in Yusei's gut. There was a bluff somewhere in the room - something that didn't belong. "When - and only when - you find it will you return here and I will verify your claim. You already have all the clues you need to complete this challenge."
"Piece of cake." Two members of the crowd broke off and headed straight towards the elevators.
"One final condition." Blue-Suit had crept back to press himself tightly against the wall at the top of the stairs. "You must proceed on foot from now on. Anybody who uses the lifts or escalators will be disqualified. We will also be reviewing security tapes after this event in order to verify no cheating was carried out. You have one hour." Disgruntled looks were shared between the group as feet shuffled from one side to another. Then the tension snapped as they stampeded towards the stairs. The announcer had been wise to stand out of the way as one unlucky contestant tripped and was pummelled by numerous feet in the few seconds it took to regain footing. Continued shouts and screams drifted back from the crew to the almost empty sidewalk where Yusei stock in mild shock as medics rushed to the fallen bodies.
"Well, that was fast." A look of minor confusion settled onto the face of the announcer as he descended the stairs, straightening his tie as he came. Seeing Yusei still standing there, he froze before professional instincts could kick in.
"I would advise that you hurry, lest you be left behind by the rest of the group." In response, Yusei withdrew his closed fist from one pocket and raised it to chest height between them. "What is it?"
"What you asked for." An open palm lay between them as finger uncurled. "Nothing." The announcer examined Yusei with a keen eye. "American books have the odd-numbered pages on the right. Seven and eight are either side of the same sheet." Blue-Shirt smiled - properly smiled - for the first time since Yusei had seen him.
"That has to be a record." One scan of his identity card later and Yusei was the first person in his challenge to be entered into the next round. "How many people do you expect will make it?" Something smashed in the far distance and insurance prices rose sharply.
"Out of a thousand? Maybe fifty." Another scream echoed as somebody fell down the stairs inside and started a minor avalanche of cascading bodies. "Forty-three."
"Can I see the card you were given at registration?" Pulling the piece of plastic from his inside breast pocket, Yusei wordlessly held it out. "Thank you." Drawing a scanner, Blue-Suit held it against the screen for a moment.
"What exactly do they do?" Tucking the scanner away again, the announcer seemed surprised at the question.
"Each participant is given a unique identifying card that is registered to them." Recalling the electronic tablet at the football stadium, Yusei suddenly understood the reason to have both it and paper forms. The tablet for the cards and the forms for hard copies. "Judges such as myself scan the cards to determine who has passed their challenges. I simply need to wait for the other forty-two winners of your challenge." Glass smashed somewhere above them and a reading table smashed itself on the sidewalk a short distance away.
"Make that thirty-seven." Another prophetic declaration later and a handful of battered souls finally made their way back. More trickled in once the time limit was past and began screaming about how impossible it was. Some accepted their places with wry smiles and earned extra adoration from the watching crowds. Of them all, only Yusei had managed to figure out the answer without a trial-and-error approach. Such skills did not go unnoticed.
Across town, Jack was facing a very different sort of problem. "Your challenge is simple." Ignoring the implication his group had been singled out for lacking intelligence, Jack tried to block out the smell of chlorine as successfully. "Reach the far end of the pool and grab a flag at the end of each lane." At the far end of the Olympic-sized swimming pool, cheap towels had been carelessly dropped atop a stool each. "Only the first three to complete the task will be allowed to progress to the next round." Still fully dressed in their clothes, the Duellists regarded one another with suspicion.
"That's it?" A Canadian entrant looked to have the muscles designed for towing icebergs, let alone paddling down a short stretch of calm water. "We swim to the flag and we get through?"
"Only the first three contestants to hold a flag get through." Politically pedantic, the announcer was stepping out of splash range. "Everything else is fair game. If you would like to take your positions?" Swiftly sliding into place at the far end of the pool, Jack noted that the lines weren't separated as they usually were. Along the line, competitors were already taking off any excess clothes and shoes they could in the frantic few seconds left.
"On your marks," Turning, the muscled Canadian woman picked up the competitor beside her and launched the flailing body into two others. "Go." Diving, jumping and falling into the water, the nine other entrants did their best to take her down. Working as a semi-united front – just until the obvious winner was taken down – the group was unprepared for their efforts to simply be ignored as years of training came to play and simply dragged them along behind the professional swimmer.
"Aglubblubblublug!" Went one.
"...!" Screamed another under the water as they continued to power along faster than any of the others could normally manage under their own power.
"&^"£*!" Bellowed the Canadian after reaching the far end of the pool. Not at the dead weight clinging to her various limbs but at the impossible sight that greeted them all.
Standing over the tangled mess of bodies, Jack was holding not just one towel but all of them in his hands. "But, how?" Wiping what water she could from her face, the Canadian was dumbfounded. She had a string of swimming medals and a cabinet full of trophies. It was impossible that Jack had beat them all to the end whilst still wearing his coat. His suspiciously dry coat.
"I just ran around the outside of the pool." Between the tread on his shoes and the grip of the overflow grating, it was easy to pull on a ludicrous lead over the others. "Don't forget, anything goes. Here," Extracting one towel from the pile on his hands, he dangled the rest just out of their reach. "I think you might be wanting these." Clenching his fist tight around the material, he threw the misshapen ball over their head and into the middle of the pool. As Jack grimly walked away to have his card scanned, another brawl broke out in the water.
Close by, Crow was having a little more trouble with his own challenge. "Monkey bars?" Ahead of him, another competitor slipped from the ceiling with the fifth bar still clutched firmly in one hand. "Rigged monkey bars?"
"No matter how many times you say it, the challenge remains the same." Crow's group had been slowly funnelled into a narrow corridor barely three feet across. "A sequence determines which bars will fall and which will not." Out on the padded floor, the latest vanquisher released the bar and it was quickly dragged into the ceiling through its tethering cables and locked back into place. "Select rungs will not be magnetically held for each competitor but it is up to you to determine which will support you and which will not." Another face rushed by and managed to make it to the seventh of the twenty rungs before she fell. Their current group record was eleven and a sprained ankle.
Looking up at the television in one corner of the small room, Crow watched other trails going on in corridors just like his. A brunette Duellist managed to make it halfway before losing grip, one athletic participant skipped every other rung and still fell early. So far, nobody had made it to the other end of the corridor.
"And that's the challenge?" Another blur brushed past, leapt for the third rung, grabbed it dead-centre in a strong grip and fell straight down. "To get across the corridor without falling?" Nearly invisible red dots at either end of the padded floor clued him in to the detection grid to avoid any doubts about if somebody touched the floor or not.
"Yes." Exasperated by the supposedly brilliant Duellist, the weary officiator was already looking forward to quitting time.
"How has nobody else seen it?" Admittedly, Crow hadn't noticed it the first few times he had been watching either. It was tiny and almost unnoticed by even those looking for it.
"Seen what?" It wasn't hard to act innocent – the judges themselves hadn't been told about the traps, only the correct answers. Reaching the other end without touching the floor was the solution. Nothing else had been revealed.
What Crow had seen was where each hand had been placed. It was the only way to guarantee a fair trial. Weight, size, height. Everything else would be discrimination but where each contestant put their hands was purely by choice. Depending on if the hand was on the left, right or dead centre, each bar would appear to randomly fall. But it was more than that. From what Crow had seen, the pattern also changed depending on where each previous hand had been.
Nobody had fallen on the first bar so that one was safe. Two had fallen far less than the others but anybody who had tried to start further ahead – perhaps guessing at a similar plan to Crow's – had instantly fallen.
"Sorry." Throwing out a hand, Crow stopped the next loser from their certain fall. "I think it's my turn." Making use of the springboard – because the organisers had thought of every detail, including the slightly shorter competitors – Crow grabbed the first bar on the left, the next two in the middle and then hung firmly in the air. Craning his neck as best he could, he smirked at the competition behind him.
It had been a few years since his last 'active security test' or 'burglary' but Crow kept himself in enough shape to pull the odd gymnastic exercise. Swinging gently back and forth, he kept his weight right in the middle of the bar as he counted ahead.
"B," Letting go at the right moment, his left foot bounced off the wall as his right reached forward to grab a particular position on the seventh bar. Flinging himself forward, he rocketed from his spare leg and grasped the tenth bar on the far right in hopes that his pattern would hold. "C," Feeling the slightest drop in the handle, Crow trusted his full weight to it and continued to sling himself forward, skipping three bars and grasping the next in the centre as the onlookers watched in amazement.
"A," Feeling the urge to show off, he ignored the next five bars altogether, bouncing from the left wall to the right and back again. "C." Just as his momentum began to fail him, he launched across once more, grasping the final bar on the right and swung forward again, twisting and rotating in a feat that would have earned him medals in Olympic tournaments. Landing in a low crouch with both arms stretched out to the sides, he glared down the corridor he was facing in a dare to anyone else to follow his pattern if they could. "A-B-B-C-A." Muttering beneath his breath, Crow straightened up and brushed some imaginary dust from his jacket.
It was a simple pattern once you knew how to set it and overcome the problem of trying to remember where you were in it. Whatever computer controlled the bars was a simple one and forced the competitors to adapt their routine to an extent. It honestly befuddled his criminal mind that nobody else had seen it the same way he had. Crow had simply assigned each position on the bar a letter – A for left, B for middle and C for right – and watched patterns emerge in each attempt. Then he simply avoided grabbing any bars in the wrong place and put on a show to throw off anybody who was watching.
"Come on." Shouting slightly to be heard clearly across the gap, Crow could see the gears starting to turn in other heads than his own. "You can do it!" Ignoring the screams coming from across the grid, Crow placed his card against the scanner at the far end and smiled invitingly. "It's not hard once you pay attention."
Elsewhere in the city, Leo was paying attention and finding his own challenge insurmountable. Panic had set in long ago, sweat was trickling down his spine. Sobbing was coming from the booth to his left and sounds of shattering wood were coming from somewhere further to the right.
"Take your time." Smiling uneasily, even the quiet judge sitting on the other side of the table was able to sense the atmosphere inside the large dome. Not for the first time that day, Leo silently cursed his answers to the entry questionnaire as he studied the problem.
When his group had first come into the covered stadium and seen the rows of small partitions, they were utterly in the dark as to what the challenge could be. Picked off one by one, nobody had been expecting what awaited inside each closed off booth – a quiet judge sitting on the far side of the table, a chair to sit on and a chessboard already set up between them. 'Secure a win in one move' was the goal. Within five minutes, he had thought it difficult. After ten, impossible. By the time an hour had passed, the board seemed created specifically to taunt him. That moment had been two hours ago.
With the board set sideways between them, Leo had the opportunity to observe both sides of the miniaturised battle. Barely more than a novice, he could just about name the pieces and which way they each moved. On the forms for the competition, he had ranked himself as 'Grandmaster' when they asked about his chess ability. It was a silly mistake.
"And I can play as either side?" Shuffling around the table, he tried to see things from the black position.
"Yes. Your only restriction is to secure a win in one move." Somewhere else in the enclosed space, screams started ringing out as a fight was started by an angry loser. "Would you like a pad to sketch out your moves?" A short stack of notebooks was piled in the corner of the tent beside a small tub of pencils.
"Hang on, I think I've got it." Momentarily mapping the suicidal leap of a heroic dark knight, he saw an avenue the pale king could always escape from.
"The knight? It's a temporary solution at best." Sitting back in the chair, she inspected the board herself. Even as Leo had tried to find an answer, so had she. There was an answer there but the one she had been given didn't sit well.
Circling the board, Leo looked at things from a brighter perspective. This time, the same piece he had thought could secure a victory stopped him from making a certain checkmate from the white side. Neither side seemed able to hold ground for long enough to finish the fight for sure.
Somebody knocked on the frame holding the cloth partition upright and ducked in behind the judge. "Thought you could do with a water." Dropping one into a waiting hand, the new arrival understood the urgency not to look away from the game for even a minute as he circled around the board to look at the same problem as Leo. "Hey, kid. You thirsty?" Tearing his gaze away from the board, Leo smiled at the handsome blond-hair blue-eyes combination.
"Only for a win."
"Uh-huh." Ignoring the bravado, a plastic bottle was held out all the same. "Take some water for later as well." Glancing at the table, he examined the puzzle. "How's he doing, Chrissie?" Stretching slightly, the brunette looked Leo up and down.
"Still not giving up. How many left?" Glancing sideways at the young man by his shoulder, the water giver wondered if the answer would count as sensitive information.
"Not many. Fifteen at last count. Junior here is the last one with any fight still left in him." Winking at Chrissie as he clapped a hand on Leo's shoulder, the man left the tent as quickly as he arrived. Part of the young man was proud to have lasted as long as he had. But unless an idea was coming soon, he might just have to give up and hope the rest of...
Give up? An idea sparked in his mind and Leo lent over the board with fresh eyes.
"Ah." Sitting up straighter, Chrissie picked up on the shift in focus. "Do we have a plan?" Fully focused on the board, Leo was starting to unravel the problem presented to him. The reason it seemed like there was no way to win was very simply because there was no way to win. Reaching out a finger, Leo made his single move.
"Black wins." Rolling gently across the board, the white king fell from the table and onto the floor. For a moment, Chrissie just smiled.
"Congratulations." Standing up, she held out a hand for him to shake and another for his card. "You're through to the next round."
Though nobody knew it at the time, there was another competitor nearby. In Group 22, a unique contender had been silently fuming through the challenge. News of the star entrants had spread with almost impossible speeds as the world reacted to the Yusei Fudo teaming up with the Jack Atlas to form an incredible Duelling Team with a pair of friends.
It wasn't exactly anger but more like resentment against reality. No matter what tricks were plied or gambits played, destiny always seemed ready to thrust the former Signers right in the way.
"Zoning out already?" Staring down at the puzzle, the figure made no move to respond. As one of the last to undergo the challenge, the observers had long ago started losing patience and sanity.
Known affectionately as 'Einstein's Riddle', there was some debate as to whether the famous genius had actually created it himself. It was a logic puzzle of the highest order, designed to test an applicants ability to mentally hold differing facts and knowledge to solve a puzzle. Five houses with residents of five different nationalities, each with a different drink, different favourite sport and different pet. As far as the riddle went, it was a single, simple question: who keeps the fish?
A normal mind could solve it inside an hour, an exceptional one inside ten minutes. A genius took about three.
"German." Ignoring the intricate list of facts, the possibilities and false leads they could construct, a correct answer was plucked from the chaos within seconds. "The German keeps the fish." Shocked by such a fast answer, the assessor could only mutely nod and scan the card before its owner dramatically swept out of the room.
Walking outside the building, a cloak of mystery shrouded the figure as it stared up at a billboard, already playing out the amazing scenes from the four best hopes for the champion's seat. "Signers, always getting in the way." It almost spat in the gutter from disgust. "Time to change that."