I don't know how much it costs to run a theme park. I won't pretend my paltry research is accurate. But I think I worked out a good number to play with, and the point is the same regardless. I don't think Seto charges for Kaiba-Land.

I don't think he's ever cared about turning a profit with his park. I don't think that's ever mattered to him. It's his dream. He's willing to put everything into his dream, and that means he doesn't care what it takes.

Besides. He's got too much money already. I think the PR would be more than enough incentive to sink his own funds into running the place.

.

Kisara knew that her mother liked to think of herself as a modern woman, someone who'd moved past the old-fashioned ways of her upbringing, but it was clear that Zelda St. Vincent was currently confronting things about herself. Nobody would have mistaken the crowd at Kaiba-Land as traditional. It wasn't just a bunch of children with their nuclear families; little boys and little girls with their mothers and their fathers. The people here were the clearest example of West Coast liberalism she had ever seen.

"I think," Kisara murmured, "that my mother is having trouble adjusting to the heat."

Seto glanced Zelda's way, watched her for a moment, then grunted. "It happens more often than I'd like," he said. "People visit the park . . . unprepared for the people it attracts, given the fact that there aren't tickets. I think it bothers proper, upstanding folks that I don't refuse entry to the homeless."

"Mm," said Kisara.

"I have no delusions about what I might have become," Seto said. "If not for my predecessor seeing something in me, statistically, I would have ended up on the streets. A place like this would have become my sanctuary, and I don't intend to deny that to the people who might have been my peers if not for the fact that I happened to luck out."

Kisara smiled. "You're a good man, my prince."

"How do you turn a profit here?" Rhett asked, falling into step beside them.

"I don't," Seto said.

Rhett looked thrown. ". . . Seriously? Not at all? You run it at a loss?"

"I handle all the park's expenses myself," Seto said. "I don't know that it's enough to say this place runs at a loss. It's one of the more . . . constant headaches, in terms of convincing my board that I'm serious about my mission of making the world better for children."

"I think you said once," Kisara said, "that this park costs around 600 million dollars each year?"

"Conservatively," Seto said. "It depends. But yes, that's a good start." At Rhett's flabbergasted expression, Seto laughed. "Kaiba-Land is a passion project. I never intended to make money with it. Call it a charity if you like. I prefer not to." He looked around at his park, at all the guests heading for rides and shows and food. All the smiles and gasps and open staring as they walked by, most directed at Elko the centaur, still bearing little Riley on his back.

Seto wasn't surprised to find that Zelda was focused on the most obviously out-of-sorts guests in the park; those with stained clothes, ripped jackets, unruly hair. Seto bolstered his spirits by the fact that the regulars, those who knew Domino City, those who knew how Seto operated, paid these people no more mind than any other person.

Seto watched as one of the miscreants approached him.

"Good morning, Mister Kaiba," he said; an older man, clearly well into his 50s or 60s. He bowed his head. "How are you doing on this fine day?"

"Well enough, Joel," said Seto, offering a nod as he shook the man's hand. "I hope you're taking care of yourself."

"Oh, yes, yes, of course." Joel winked. "My shift's about to start. You know, Olivia, the darling, she got those fancy dustpans over the break. The ones with the long handles. The sort you see in movie theaters. I'm looking forward to giving one of those a nice test run."

Seto nodded. "Excellent. Let me know if it makes a difference for you."

Rhett watched Old Joel saunter away. "Shift?" he asked.

"The custodians here are contractors," Seto said. "Anyone who needs work can find it here. Joel is one of our finest. He knows quite well how to work a crowd. I've learned plenty from watching him at the job." He watched Zelda St. Vincent's gaze turn inward, again, and he knew she was reevaluating some life decisions right now.

Rhett, for his part, eyed Old Joel—and Seto—with new appreciation.

"I like this place," he said.