This is another long one. I think I saved my most important ideas for these sections. When I drafted this story, I split it into 5 parts. And the "finale" of each part was a major element of setting up themes and whatnot.

So, I suppose this isn't especially surprising.

Anyway. What can I say? They're good boys.

.

One of the first things Isono and Fuguta did, in their new capacity as bodyguards for the eldest Kaiba children, was to make a trip to a random hobby shop over the weekend; or, at least, it seemed random to them. This shop was, according to Seto, the premier spot in all of Domino City for Magic & Wizards, which meant it was only a matter of time before they would have come here anyway.

But it seemed that they had very specific business this day.

They picked up Joey Wheeler on the way to the innocuous little spot called Turtle Game, and the blond boy spent the entire ride staring at his lap and looking for all the world like he was riding to a juvenile detention center, or his own funeral. Neither Isono nor his partner had any clue what was going on, and they decided it was best not to ask; Seto and Noa both understood something that they didn't, and that was enough.

Working for the Kaiba family, even its children, was much easier if one asked as few questions as possible.

Isono pulled into the parking lot of Turtle Game, stopped the car, and Noa patted Joey's shoulder. "It's gonna be fine," he said. "Don't worry. Trust me: Chichiue likes you. That means you're basically untouchable." He flashed a little grin, and Joey seemed to take heart from this.

"Besides," Seto added, "if he isn't willing to listen to you, then he isn't worth dealing with."

There was something grim about Seto's proclamation, and it struck Isono—not for the first time—that his employers probably decided to adopt this boy because they'd sensed, right from that first meeting, that this family was where he belonged.

Noa may have been born into the bloodline, and he'd learned plenty from his parents' examples.

But Seto had a natural affinity for what the Kaibas stood for in Domino City, and he hadn't needed to be taught.

Joey didn't take any comfort from this pep talk; from Seto, he seemed to gain resolve.

He drew in a breath, nodded, and the three boys filed out of the backseat together, looking like their own little military company. Isono watched them march to the shop's front entrance, then turned his attention to Fuguta.

"I feel like something of vital importance is going to happen here today," Isono said.

Fuguta looked haunted. "I thought it was just me."

They started walking.

.

Standing at the front counter, polishing the glass top with a white cloth, was a wizened old man dressed in coveralls. He had a bandana tied around his head; spikes of wild greying hair escaped its containment in random directions. Despite looking like a mixture of an 18th-century farmer and a mad scientist, the proprietor of Turtle Game had a pleasant disposition, and the grin that spread on his weathered face was fully genuine as the three boys entered his store.

"Welcome, welcome, one and all! You've found the Turtle!" The old man held out his hands like a circus ringmaster. "How can I help you fine folks today?"

Seto patted Joey's shoulder and stepped forward. He approached the counter and bowed. "Good morning, sir," he said. "We're here today because my friend has something important that he needs to say."

Noa patted Joey's other shoulder.

The old man looked surprised but interested. He stuck his cloth into a pocket and leaned forward. "Oh-ho? All right, then. Please. Say what you need to say, young man."

Joey reached into his back pocket as he stepped up next to Seto. He held up his Magic & Wizards cards. "I, uh. While back, I came in here while you was busy with somethin'. I lifted these. I didn't think it was a big deal at the time, but . . . it don't sit right with me. I wanted to come back and . . . well, I dunno. I guess you can't really do nothin' with 'em anymore. I just . . . wanted to apologize."

He set his pack of cards on the counter and lowered his head.

Waiting for judgment.

"I'm sorry."

The old man looked at the cards for a time, then reached out and picked them up. He sifted through them. After a while, he said: "This is a strong deck. Well-balanced. Unorthodox, to be sure, but technically sound."

Joey looked up and tilted his head to one side. "Uh . . . my, um. My buddy here taught me."

"You're a duelist?" the old man asked Seto.

"Theoretically," said Seto. "I only just recently got hold of enough cards of my own. That deck wasn't built with practical experience. I helped Joey build it by working through the rules as best I could."

". . . Really?" The old man looked impressed. "Well, now. That is interesting. I must say, this is excellent work." He turned back to Joey and cleared his throat; Joey flinched. "It looks like this deck has about 45 cards in it?" Joey nodded. "That's five packs' worth of cards you have here."

"Seven," Joey admitted. "I didn't keep 'em all."

"I see." The old man scratched at his beard. "Well, unfortunately, that's not a small amount of product you've taken from me. And, as you say, there's little to be done for it. I can't go selling these. I think there's only one thing to be done in this situation."

". . . What's that? Sir?"

The old man set Joey's deck back onto the counter and slid it toward him.

"I think you'd best keep hold of these, young man."

.

Seto solemnly placed forty dollars onto the counter. "Here," he said. "I hope you don't mind that it took a while to pay for these cards." Joey stared at the money like he thought it would grow legs just to kick him. Seto smiled. "You didn't think I would leave you out to dry, did you, Joey? It's important to admit when you've done something wrong, but that doesn't mean you don't deserve help." He turned his attention to his brother. "Isn't that right?"

Noa, from whom this money had come, flashed a grin. "Exactly," he said.

"You guys . . ." Joey looked like he was going to cry.

The old man plucked the bills from his counter and regarded them quizzically. He checked them, found them to be authentic, and nodded to himself. "Well, now," he said, "this is an interesting day." He laughed to himself. "My name is Sugoroku Mutou, and this is my place. I don't mind telling you that it's refreshing to see this kind of integrity in a younger generation." He bowed. "Thank you for your patronage." He held up one finger. "Now, then. Let's make sure we don't have a situation like this again, all right? I don't let my customers keep tabs."

Joey nodded firmly. "Yes, sir, Mister Mutou, sir."

"Good." Sugoroku's eyes sparkled. "Now, then. Since this business is all done and buttoned up, I think I should ask: have you had a chance to test this deck of yours?" Joey shook his head. "That just won't do, you know. You need to make sure a strategy works in practice, or it's just philosophy. What do you say?" He reached into a pocket of his coveralls and pulled out his own deck of Magic & Wizards cards. "How confident are you in your friend's tutelage?"

"You . . . you wanna play me?"

"Absolutely. If you think you're up for the challenge."

Joey's eyes glittered like amber gemstones. "Yeah! You bet!"

.

Seto, Joey, and Noa were all sitting at a table in one corner of the shop, sharing chips and drinking sodas, while Isono and Fuguta traded small talk with Sugoroku Mutou. A man in a faded suit came shuffling into the Turtle, followed closely by a freckled girl of about fourteen, with bright red curls and wearing a pastel tracksuit.

Sugoroku cut himself off mid-sentence and turned his attention to the newcomers. "Ah! Is that Olivia Lassiter I see? A star pupil if ever I had one! Welcome, welcome. This must be your father." He held out a hand, which the man in the faded suit shook. "Good afternoon. Welcome to my little corner of Domino. What can I do for you?"

"Mister Mutou," said the girl, apparently Olivia, solemnly. "Do you remember when I won that local tourney, and got some promo packs?" Sugoroku nodded fervently. "Well, I . . . I finally had time to open them up and look at them, and . . . I need you to look at some of the cards I found. It's real important."

Olivia's father held out a little box, which Sugoroku took with ceremony. He carefully opened the parcel and took four cards from the inside. He set them down on the counter and looked at them. For a moment, it seemed like business as usual; but there was something about the man's bearing that said he was being confronted with something far beyond anything normal.

"My word," Sugoroku murmured, breathlessly. "These are . . . remarkable."

"They're authentic?" Olivia asked, excitedly. "For real?!"

"I'll have to make a phone call," said Sugoroku, "but to my eye, they certainly seem to be. You've come into quite the treasure, my dear."

Olivia's father looked at his daughter with a pained look on his face, but there was a fierce flame of hope behind his eyes that couldn't be ignored. Olivia, for her part, was staring at Sugoroku rapturously. Isono had no idea what any of this meant; he knew as much about Magic & Wizards as he did the Novikov self-consistency principle.

But he could tell it was important, whatever it was.

Real important.

"I told you!" Olivia declared triumphantly.

.

Sugoroku approached Olivia and her father with a serious expression on his face, after hanging his telephone's handset onto its cradle. "I have good news and bad news for you," he said, gesturing to the girl's cards. "The good news is this: I have confirmed that, yes, these cards are authentic."

Olivia cheered and jumped in the air. She started dancing.

"And . . . the bad news?" her father pressed.

"If you were hoping to sell these," Sugoroku said, "I'm afraid I can't help you. I simply don't have the kind of capital necessary for these." The three boys had all ambled over to the counter and were leaning up to see what was happening. "A Red-Eyes Black Dragon is rare enough. Doubly so for Shinato and his Ark. But this . . ." Sugoroku tapped at the final card. "This one here, all on its own, could buy this building. All together, we're talking seven figures."

In the stunned silence that followed this proclamation, Seto and Noa shared a look with each other. They eyed the cards, then each other, then the cards again, then each other again.

"Shinato, King of Heaven," Noa murmured thoughtfully.

"That black dragon is boss," Joey breathed.

Seto didn't speak at all; he simply stared.

Olivia's father opened his mouth, then closed it. His shoulders slumped and he let out a heavy breath. "Well," he said, patting his daughter on the shoulder, "thank you for the information, at least." Olivia was looking dumbfounded; why was her father so crestfallen after such wonderful news? "It's good to know what we're dealing with," he went on, "but . . . I just don't know if we're going to be able to find someone who could . . . do anything with these."

"I'm sure somebody . . ." Olivia started, then trailed off.

"May I ask," Noa cut in, as smoothly as ever, "what's the matter? Are you having some kind of emergency?"

Olivia's father frowned, clearly not expecting this interjection, but he eventually shrugged. Olivia turned to face Noa and said: "My mom needs treatment for breast cancer, and we . . . can't afford it. Even with Pop's insurance, it's just too much money. When I saw these cards, I thought . . . well, honestly, I still think we can get everything handled. We just have to keep looking."

"This game is still so new," Olivia's father said. "I know you're passionate, honey, and I'm happy about that, but . . . who would be willing to put down a million dollars for trading cards?"

Noa looked at the cards again.

At his brother, at Joey.

At Olivia, at her father.

"Mister Mutou," Noa said, slyly, "may I borrow your phone, please?"

.

Few people in Domino City recognized Noa Kaiba at a glance, but almost everyone knew his mother, such that Olivia and her father both gawped openly when Amaya Kaiba strode into Turtle Game. She was dressed all in black, hair pulled back in a simple bun, with no visible jewelry or makeup. All the same, she exuded a queenly aura that made everyone take notice of her immediately.

Her presence was magnetic.

Amaya approached Olivia's father. "Good afternoon," she said, holding out a hand. "My name is Amaya. Might I have yours?"

"Uh . . . Oscar. Oscar Lassiter, ma'am." He took the offered hand and shook it lightly. "It's, uh . . . I'm sorry, I guess I just . . . I didn't figure I would be talking to you today, Missus Kaiba." He shifted and adjusted his coat. "I hope you're . . . well."

Amaya smiled. "I understand, Mister Lassiter, that your daughter here is in possession of some . . . particularly rare cards belonging to my sons' favorite game, and that she is looking to sell them. Is that right?" Oscar and Olivia both nodded dumbly. Amaya glanced at Sugoroku. "You are the proprietor here, are you not, my good man?"

"That's correct," said Sugoroku, amicably. "My name is Sugoroku Mutou."

"In your professional opinion, Mister Mutou," Amaya said, gesturing to the four cards from Olivia's little box, "how much are these worth? I don't think I need to say this, but I will for the sake of clarity: money is no object. I am looking for a proper evaluation."

Sugoroku bowed his head. "Well, ma'am. They aren't in sleeves, but they've been kept in a case." He donned a glove and picked up one of the cards. "You see how there's no fraying on the edges? The artwork is clean, the colors are crisp, and there's no flaws in the lettering. These cards aren't mint condition, but they are . . . honestly, as close to it as any average collector has a right to expect."

Amaya nodded. "Excellent," she said. "My son has told me they are rare. Just how rare, Mister Mutou?"

Sugoroku pointed to the Red-Eyes Black Dragon. "This is a promotional card only handed out at certain tournaments in certain regions," he said. "At last count, there are about twenty-five in circulation." He pointed to Shinato and his Ark. "These two are a set. They work together. I believe that there are ten such sets in circulation. Having them both expounds the value quite a lot." He then pointed to the last, the Blue-Eyes White Dragon. "Now, this. This is the rarest Magic & Wizards card currently available to the public. The only cards I can think of which are rarer . . . I can't even verify their existence. There are four of these dragons."

"I see," Amaya said.

"Given what I've laid out," Sugoroku said, "I would say that the Red-Eyes is worth about $6,000. Shinato and the Ark, together, would be about $100,000. The Blue-Eyes . . . conservatively, I would say $950,000."

Amaya considered this. While these numbers clearly flabbergasted Oscar Lassiter, they didn't faze a Kaiba. She glanced at her eldest son. "You mentioned medical care," she said.

"Ah," said Oscar, holding up a hand. "That is to say . . . we were looking to sell these so that we could put money together. For my wife. She was recently diagnosed with cancer, ma'am."

"I don't run a Dragon or a Fairy deck," Olivia said, "so I don't have a use for them."

Amaya hummed low in her throat. "Very well," she said crisply. She pulled a checkbook from her jacket, along with a pen. She wrote out a check with swift, sure strokes, tore it from the book, and handed it to Oscar. "Take care of your family, Mister Lassiter. Do remember, it is your daughter's generosity which landed you in this position." She winked. "So, buy her something nice, won't you?"

Oscar stared at the check, at Amaya's signature, struck numb with the understanding that this was pretty much the only person in Domino City capable of making a gesture like this. ". . . Missus Kaiba," he breathed, "I will never be able to repay what you've just done for us. But . . . I'm going to try my damnedest. Thank you, thank you, thank you."

Amaya smiled. "You're quite welcome." She turned her attention to her sons and their friend. "Now, then. I need to join Mister Lassiter to ensure that this money transfers without incident. So, you three have a decision to make. Three cards, alongside an auxiliary. Three duelists. Who will be the shepherd for each of these new warriors?"

"I like Shinato!" Noa declared immediately.

"The Red-Eyes, I think," said Joey.

Seto stared at his fellows. "Are you . . . are you sure?"

Noa laughed. "I saw how you looked at that dragon, Seto. She's yours. She belongs with you."

"Yeah," Joey said. "I dunno why, can't put my finger on it, but Noa's right, man."

Amaya nodded. "Good. That's decided, then." She gave a quick nod to Isono and Fuguta; both men saluted. "I'm going to head back downtown. Once this business is dealt with, I'll come back around this way." She glanced at the children. "What would you boys say to a nice dinner?"

"Yes, Hahaue," Noa said.

"That sounds wonderful," Seto added.

"Me, too?" Joey asked, quietly, hesitantly.

Amaya rolled her eyes and ruffled Joey's hair. She seemed to remember something very suddenly, because she reached into her coat again and pulled out a business card. She handed this to Oscar. "Before I forget. Do tell me how your wife responds to treatment, won't you?"

Oscar took the card and bowed. "Of course, Missus Kaiba. Thank you again. Thank you so much."

Olivia hugged her.

Amaya laughed, returned the girl's embrace, and said: "You're a good girl. You should be proud. Now, let's get this squared away so you can go deliver the good news. What do you say?"

"Yes, ma'am!"