Disclaimer: I do not own YGO 5Ds
A/N: Yusei's crew member Rally was misnamed as Reggie, in case you read earlier chapters before I made the correction.
The bug in the duel from the last chapter has been fixed. If you didn't notice, ignore this message.
"What do we do with the body?" Cyril asked casually like he's done this before. Considering he just knocked out somebody with substantial magical powers, he might have. Remind me to never piss him off.
And what did he mean body?
I rushed up to Kalin's prostrate form on the ground. The hit to the head by a duel disk left a large gash on the right side of his forehead (Cyril used the sharp edge of his duel disk after all), a small pool of blood quickly collected on the ground, and was as quickly soaked up by the dirt, leaving only a dark irregular stain.
What happened to emerging unscathed from any physical injury, including but not limited to numerous motorcycle accidents?
#HelpIThinkIAccidentallyOrderedAMurder
#HowToStopaBleed
I bent down to take a closer look, I don't think I see bone, and he was breathing fairly regularly, that's a good sign, right? And I think sharp weapons cause less internal damage, so Kalin shouldn't have too many injuries I can't see. I definitely hoped so, because there was nothing I could do. I think I mentioned that there was no healthcare system in the Satellite. The few doctors left were stuck here from pre-Zero Reverse, and happened to survive the past decade and a half. So probably numbering in the double digits now (for a city of half a million people), living underground, seeing only those they trusted to avoid being captured by a gang (admittedly, a gang like mine).
"Kalin!" I slapped his face, squeezed his fingers, and pinched his earlobes, getting absolutely no response.
"You take the feet, I'll grab the head," Cyril said decisively, "Do you want him inside or out?"
"Inside!" I choked, correctly assessing 'outside' to be under the soil outside. "Definitely inside! We're gonna have to hide him from, everybody, for now." Until I can figure out what to do with him, and hopefully not his corpse.
Given Cyril's casual attitude to Kalin's current condition, I was hesitant to reveal the situation to the rest of the Magicians. Let's be honest, I don't actually have control over any of these people, they're working for me because it's in their best interest for the time being. Their interest in a dead Kalin Kessler may far exceed their interest in our little establishment. I don't want Vincent to 'accidentally' break Kalin's skull.
Cyril lifted Kalin up at the shoulders (after I stopped the white-haired teen from dragging the unconscious Dark Signer on the ground by his head) and I carried the feet, hiding him in a storage shed near the entrance of the house. Cyril took the chance to open all the doors and let the smell of blood disperse. I grabbed a bottle of grease and poured it liberally onto the ground, using the darker oil stains to disguise blood stains.
It's all I can do in the limited timeframe. As first an antagonist, and then an antihero protagonist in a series filled with motorized vehicle accidents, I was optimistic that Kalin would recover on his own.
…
"Yuki," Chaos was the first one to stream back in after I sent Cyril to give the okay-signal, "great news, we had our first sales order," He completely skipped over my instructions for evacuation. I told Cyril to be as vague as possible, hint at something personal and say no more. I think it's working.
Vincent squeezed past me with a glare, Teddy followed him closely, not looking at me at all, muttering a 'no thanks to you' as he passed. Or there may still be some resentment.
"We ran into Blizzard when we left," Felice explained with a broad smile, motioning to a few non-motorized vehicles that looked suspiciously similar to Nervin's tricycle, all filled with cartons bearing the standard Sector logos, "he hooked us up with a couple of people from Sector Security, so we managed to sell most of what we made so far. We have enough supplies to last a month!"
"That may still be a little early to say…" Nervin interrupted, looking like he wanted to say something.
"Oh, and I gave Blizzard a cut," Chaos mentioned, "I hope you don't mind."
"Not at all," I replied, it's only standard business practice, "where is Blizzard anyways?"
"Blizzard can't make it, because Nervin strongly hinted that he shouldn't" Chaos said looking at Nervin, who coughed quietly. "But he did get you some new outfits as a gift."
I looked at him questioningly, wondering why he brought that up. There're obviously much more important issues than my attire at the moment.
"It was his idea, but I thought a dress might not hurt," Chaos replied with a mischievous grin, "after Blizzard asked me if you wore boxers or briefs."
My eyes slowly widened as I understood him.
"Can you blame him?" Felice dealt the finishing blow, "even we had to confirm with Galen."
"Just because my breasts haven't come in yet," I took the offered garments from Chaos with a mock pout.
"Now that that's out of the way," Nervin dragged me inside impatiently, "stop blocking the door and let me show you why we don't have time to deal with Blizzard at the moment."
My heart skipped a beat, there's no way he found out about Kalin already, is there?
"The water generator," Nervin said with finality, "the machine I was creating before you forced Chaos to kick all of us out. It's done."
I stopped in surprise. I thought the design alone would take weeks.
"I tested it out with scraps I found while we're out. This is only a prototype of course, but I don't see why it shouldn't work for the general public. Even Chaos can build it correctly."
The much bigger purple-haired man took the jab with a good-natured smile. "I still don't know what you had me build."
For a fleeting second, I thought he had looked distracted when he followed me inside, examining the room with a disconcerting vigilance.
"Upstairs," I laughed, putting Chaos out of my mind for now, "all of you! We have good news."
"I'll stay downstairs and keep an eye on things," Galen offered referring to the teenagers unloading our gross revenues (of instant foods) and getting back to work. "Nervin already told me it worked."
"I'm sure it'll be fine downstairs," I shook my head, "Come on."
We haven't yet told the Magicians about our attempt to collecting freshwater for the Satellite.
As an island, Satellite fresh water comes almost solely from the factories, located sparsely at the edges closest to Domino City. Machines to provide readily accessible freshwater to all of Satellite would not only be convenient for its residents, but also drastically reduce Neo Domino's control over the area, and I wasn't certain as to Domino government's reaction to such a situation. Nor did I know where Vincent stands on this issue, facing the possible threat from the City. So I'd rather have an extra ally in the room.
His older brother is no longer the paragon of perfection he had been during their youth, Rex Goodwin decided with a hint of melancholy, oh how the mighty has fallen.
Roman's descent from grace had begun when he gave up his own arm, and with it the mark of the Crimson Dragon. Roman had jumped off his pedestal that day, into the dark swamp of daily drudgery and mortality of which Roman now believed himself to be a part. In serving his Dark King, Roman had long lost sight of the bigger picture, limiting himself to operating in the Shadows, to underhanded tactics when legal approaches would obviously be so much more convenient.
Then again, otherwise, he couldn't possibly have pulled one over his big brother.
Rex smiled sardonically, downing the shot of vodka he had been nursing and poured himself another. It was one of the few distractions he allowed himself, and after witnessing Roman's abject fall from grace, to a point where even his humble self had become intellectually superior to his older brother, a distraction was what he needed.
He sat in his office in Domino Tower, in front of the giant window facing the Satellite, and raised a glass to everything his brother had been.
The younger Goodwin had just returned from the Satellite, where he learned the Dark Signers' fruitless search for disturbances within the Satellite, and easily distracted Roman from the specifics of the Crimson Dragon's condition, something he did not yet know, as Jack's mark hadn't awakened yet. What bothered him was Roman's request for help in locating, within the confines of the Satellite, the cause of that Netherworld Demon's surge in strength. Roman pronounced it like an order, of course, but it was an appeal for help, something he'd never thought he'd hear from his big brother.
Rex Goodwin was remarkable in every respect, to any casual observer or intimate friend (if he had any), but Roman Goodwin had always been better.
While Roman was hired by Professor Fudo on his own merit, Rex was introduced.
While Roman was selected by the powers of both Light and Dark, Rex could only take his brother's hand-me-downs.
Roman, upon recognition of his slow decline into the Shadows, had immediately and methodically cut off his own arm, denying himself a source of near-infinite powers, while ensuring the entire limb was preserved for the Crimson Dragon's powers to remain intact when Rex received it, so the side of Light might have a fighting chance in the Final Battle. Rex Goodwin had taken eight shots of vodka and sawed off his own arm in a drunken rage.*
That's why it hurt to see his brother reduced to leading sewer rats in the gutters of the Satellite.
Rex Goodwin had been certain, within 4 hours of receiving news, that nothing out of the extraordinary had occurred in Neo Domino, yet his brother still did not have the same degree of control over the Satellite, or even sufficient control within his own organization to send out the necessary spiders without raising suspicion. Now, even control of the Satellite would be conceded to the younger Goodwin. Or perhaps that was part of Roman's plan all along, he had left Rex the path of Light while he himself sank deeper and deeper into the Darkness.
But why oh why, brother mine, did you think I could resist the temptations when even you had failed?
Rex Goodwin finished another shot, enjoying the temporary relaxation and amnesia granted by his intoxication.
Roman's problem is that he could never dream big enough, Rex Goodwin concluded. As Roman's ambitions shriveled up, so did his goals and ability, and that's why one day Rex Goodwin would control power far surpassing Roman's wildest dreams. Nazca, Yliaster, none of that would matter, once Rex Goodwin has optimized the world.
So now, Rex Goodwin decided with the help of alcohol, even his most useless lackey controls more resources than his older brother.
"Lazar," Rex pushed the speed-dial on his telecom, his Vice-Director's face appeared promptly on the screen.
"Yes Director Goodwin," Lazar was proving to be much more competent during daylight hours.
"Send your best men to the Satellite, I want to know every change that's happened in the past 72 hours." Goodwin commanded succinctly.
"Yes, Director Goodwin," Lazar did not question his boss's decision again. A little odd, sure, but at least this would be easier to gloss over with Tokyo.
"Tonight, we feast!" Vincent announced proudly, his long red hair bouncing up-and-down, bringing out a tray with plastic bowls. I guess I can't expect fine cutlery here.
"It's a day worth celebrating." Felice concurred, looking up with a broad smile.
"Yeah!" Teddy jumped onto the chair, Galen pulled him down before he jumped onto the table. The two promptly got into a scuffle.
The meeting had went far better than I expected, Vincent had at least acted excited about Nervin's newest invention. I had tasked him, as well as Galen and myself, with distributing the blueprints (printed on plastic because paper's too expensive) of our modified dehumidifier to the Satellite. This way, I don't need to worry about his loyalties. If Neo Domino or Tokyo did decide to end our little venture, Vincent would be deemed an insurgent like the rest of us- there's no turning back for him anymore.
I was also excited, if for different reasons. I had tried the Satellite rations for sustenance this morning. One ticket gets you a single slab of something that resembled cookie dough, roughly the size of my hand.
The Magicians, being experienced, cut theirs into bite sizes and swallowed each one whole. I licked it tentatively, tasting a near-toxic mixture of salt, sugar and charcoal. So, being the genius I am, I bit into it.
The best way I could describe it is the taste of the inside of an AA battery (Don't ask how I know that). The acid almost burnt my tongue and gums, providing pain rather than flavor.
So I was looking forward to a real meal.
"Yuki-sama," Cyril led me to the head of the table. Personally, I've always thought it was the worst seat, you're so far away from all the food. But it's a ceremonial thing, I get it. Of course, I didn't realize that I didn't have to worry about not being able to reach any dishes, as there wouldn't be any.
As we sat down, Cyril set the placemats, I was stunned by the food placed in front of me.
What I thought were utensils were actually instant noodles that come in their own bowls. And it's not the amazing, delicious-looking anime ramen deserving of background music and pink flowers, (despite my insistence that this is an anime world). This is the soggy mess you make at 3am in college dorms because you're hungry from staying up all night because falling asleep meant having to face another day when you wake up.
Didn't they say the plastics of those bowls melt off and give you cancer or something?
Vincent, sitting at my right hand, passed me a kettle with boiling water, temporarily distracting me from my musings of hatred over all instant food. Struggling to hide the grimace on my face, I poured some into the noodles and added seasoning. Having been to college and lived alone and lazy, I had gotten tired of instant noodles, and indeed any ready-made foods, a very long time ago, though I would admit, some of the Asian brands actually were better than my own cooking.
I passed the kettle down, observing curiously at it was passed along in some sort of invisible hierarchy.
"Let's eat!" Teddy said eagerly, I noticed Felice jabbing him gently in the ribs.
"Let's eat," I agreed, digging in. The rest of the table followed suit.
I should mention that I've had the misfortune of trying a vegan hotdog from a vendor stand. I was curious, a curiosity for which I paid dearly.
That was the single worst thing I had ever eaten in my life. No amount of mustard or relish could mask that distinct gasoline-on-plastic flavor, it's how I imagine burnt rubber tires recycled from old shoes taste like. Maybe it was an anomaly, I wouldn't know because the experience was enough to turn me away from all vegan variants of things that should be made of meat. I emphasize the vegan hotdog because it's roughly equivalent in flavor to what I was putting into my mouth.
I mentioned I didn't like instant food, but this was something else.
The noodles didn't have the taste typically associated with, well, food. Aside from cheap condiments, the noodles tasted more like a broken multiple-vitamin pill (if you haven't tried it, try it) ground up, mixed with engine grease and what you threw-up in your mouth. Even my own metaphors were beginning to disgust me, as I tried my very hardest to swallow a little more, knowing that my body needed food.
"Eating this is actually making you miserable, isn't it?" Vincent asked, his expression a mix of awe and jealous resentment, "You spoiled little son of a bit-!"
"Vincent!" Chaos cut him off harshly.
"My apologies," Vincent rolled his eyes, "I meant to say spoiled little..."
"Bitch." Felice finished for him with a wink in my direction.
"I'm not spoiled." I said emphatically. I really wasn't spoiled, at least I didn't think so. I change my own tires (that one time when I was desperate, but it still counts), fix my own plumbing (with duct tape), and had once ate a sandwich that was just two slices of bread (because I woke up late that morning and didn't have time to make anything else). Overall, I've always thought that I could tough it out better than most people in I know.
Yet, accustomed to a society of (however relative) opulence, my body strictly rejected the idea of keeping this food down. Each bite was agony. On the plus side, I discovered that there're indeed fewer bitter taste receptors on the front of the tongue, so if the noodles only touch the tip of my tongue, it only tastes sour and painful (as opposed to sour, bitter and painful).
At least the soup was edible, it was really grease (again, tasted like engine grease) mixed with salt and MSG, but I wasn't in a state where I could afford to be picky. The most appetizing part of that ramen was the unseasoned, partially rehydrated cabbage.
"Hey, you gonna finish that?" Teddy looked greedily at me poking the now-soggy mess with my chopsticks.
"Not at all," I pushed my bowl away, "I think I'm good." Yes I'm 4'8", yes lack of food might mean that I would stay this height forever, but it was a sacrifice I was willing to make. Teddy took it as an invitation and wolfed down the leftovers before I could stop him. No picky eaters here, they're actively selected against due to the lack of food.
"Yuki, are you okay?" Galen looked at me, a little worried.
'I'm fine," I managed. I'm really not fine, I was still really hungry, I think I'll grab a bit more of that toxic battery acid stuff later. The rest of the table all devoured their food in silence while I reminisced of better days with unlimited chocolate and vowed never to insult fast food again should I get out of this place.
Soon, I decided. Fortune Cup occurred roughly two years after the Enforcers disbanded, that's like 6 months from now, and the Dark Signer arc followed soon after. Once the Daedalus Bridge is rebuilt, I can leave Satellite freely. Of course, the Magicians, Nervin and Chaos might want to rebuild this dump, so they can keep whatever we managed to create, and I can move on to better things. Everybody wins.
A/N: Congratulations, you've acquired- dress x1, jacket x1, pants x1, underwear x2, continue?
* I know in the anime, Rex Goodwin said he lost his arm in the motorcycle crash but I always thought it was weird that nobody else seems to know about it. Imagine you're the hospital in Domino that amputated the arm of a half-dying man, and then you see him on TV as the Director of the city, you'd be like, hey, we treated that guy, so he's using a robotic arm now? Nice! So it should be more or less public knowledge. Instead, it would be much more likely to be discreet if he did it himself. I sort of imagine Rex Goodwin would tell Crow he lost his arm in the crash to make himself seem more heroic, I always thought that Rex wanted to be the hero.
And did I mention that Roman cut off his own arm? He cut off his own arm! 4Kids really didn't give that the attention/credit it deserved.
I can say with good authority that the inside of batteries really just taste like acid.