Somewhere in the city.
At the end of a narrow, gloomy alley, it felt isolated despite being in the city center.
This was an area accessible only to those who knew the precise entrance.
A bar.
Soft lights cast mottled shadows everywhere. The air was a mix of alcohol and tobacco smoke, along with a certain heavier, muddier scent. An old record player emitted an eerie melody, each note seeming to melt into the ubiquitous darkness.
It was as if an invisible gloom enveloped the entire space.
This was a gathering place for Dark Duelists.
It wasn't the only one, however. Although Dark Duels were still largely rumors among ordinary citizens—like how Jaden in the first season of the GX anime initially stubbornly refused to believe in their existence—it had been many years since the DM era. By now, an underground network for Dark Duels had actually been established across the world.
And Dark Duelists, like assassins who couldn't expose themselves to light, were scattered everywhere.
Many of them were freelancers who accepted commissions through the underground network, taking money to perform tasks. There were also some related organizations.
This situation was actually an inevitable development. After all, Dark Duels were simply too convenient and versatile, abandoning various traditional assassination and espionage methods.
Through card duels, one could effortlessly and without leaving any trace eliminate a target. If necessary, by adding accompanying restrictions when activating a Dark Duel, they could even be pulverized to dust, literally turned to ashes, leaving no trace to be found.
And what they could do wasn't just assassination. By winning life-or-death duels against key figures or those in positions of power, they could effortlessly pry open anyone's mouth to obtain any classified information, or directly brainwash opponents to blindly obey their every command, thereby influencing major business and even political affairs.
Of course, where there's a spear, there's a shield. The rise of this dark profession naturally drew the attention of high society to this threat. Thus, important figures nowadays either possessed exceptional dueling skills themselves or had dueling bodyguards by their side.
This bar, named "Bloodmoon," was one such gathering place for Dark Duelists.
The bartender was a woman with crimson eyes, possessing astonishing curves that could captivate any gaze, and she generously showcased her extraordinary talent to her colleagues.
This was also why, during meetings, her colleagues' eyes were on her for ninety percent of the time—even though she barely said anything.
A man in a suit slowly drank a glass of wine at the bar counter. He set the glass down and leisurely said, "One of our colleagues has left us."
"Oh."
"A pity."
"Too bad."
His colleagues expressed regret, but their eyes never left the beautiful bartender. The bartender elegantly and skillfully swirled the wine in her glass. The motion of her arm caused the rest of her body to sway, eliciting a series of "Ah"s from below the bar.
The man in the suit seemed a little displeased: "We've sacrificed a comrade. Can you at least pretend to care a little?"
Someone offered: "But weren't you also looking that way when you were talking?"
The man in the suit pondered for two seconds, then righteously declared: "I couldn't help it."
This immediately sparked a burst of laughter, filling the bar with a cheerful atmosphere.
"But seriously, Onitsuka was my good brother," the man in the suit said solemnly. "We knew each other even before joining the organization. I can't pretend nothing happened."
A man with a middle-parted hairstyle on the side advised: "Everyone in this profession knows the rules. Win means life, lose means death. So many duels, so many lives and deaths.
Sometimes you win, sometimes you die, that's just how it is. Onitsuka knew that long ago."
"Besides," another person nearby said, "do you even know who did it? Who in our line of work doesn't have ten or eight enemies?"
"Onitsuka was drinking with me the night before he left headquarters this time. He said he heard a rumor that the legendary duelist Ryuzaki was preparing to re-emerge."
The man in the suit said solemnly.
"Onitsuka was very interested in that. As fellow Dinosaur users, he always said he wanted to find that Ryuzaki and clash with him."
"Wow, that's the legendary duelist," said the man with the middle part. "Are you sure you've thought this through, Fujimoto? And Onitsuka's dueling skills aren't bad. If even he couldn't win..."
"Onitsuka never won against me either."
Fujimoto, the man in the suit, smiled, stubbed out his cigarette in an ashtray, and then looked up at a 45-degree angle through the swirling smoke.
"A man always has times when he has no choice but to step up. Besides, we duelists, if we always remain content with the status quo and dare not challenge the strong, how can we improve?"
The man with the middle part squinted at him: "If you're so gung-ho, why don't you go challenge Yugi Muto then?"
Fujimoto, who was in the middle of showing off, immediately choked. After a few seconds, he spoke in a low, muffled voice.
"...Yugi Muto is too strong."
After all, he was challenging strong opponents to overcome peaks and make progress, not to seek death.
Knowing your win rate is 0 and still going for it isn't pure; it's just giving it away.
Fujimoto sighed weakly, beginning to reminisce about the past.
"Onitsuka and I were both cast out by the dueling world. We met through underground dueling. Back then, I promised him that if anything ever happened to him, I would take care of his wife and children.
I never thought he would leave so suddenly, without even leaving behind any offspring, just a gentle and beautiful girlfriend waiting for me to take care of..."
Just like that, wouldn't he have to be the one to figure out the children situation for his brother?
At this thought, he couldn't help but shake his head repeatedly, sighing deeply about the hardships of life.
A burly man beside him patted his shoulder: "Big brother, don't be sad. Brother Onitsuka, if he has a spirit in heaven and knows he has a reliable brother like you, he must be happy."
"You're right," Fujimoto patted his hand and nodded slightly.
Then, he suddenly felt a chill down his spine.
"Hmm? Did you just suddenly feel a cold draft pass by?"
The burly man blinked blankly: "No, I didn't."
"Strange. Could it be Brother Onitsuka urging me to avenge him?"
Fujimoto tilted his head towards the sky, his face stern.
"Brother Onitsuka, rest assured. I will quickly find that bastard Dinosaur Ryuzaki, drag his soul into the darkness, and avenge you, washing away your hatred!"
Another location.
After his crushing defeat at the Moonlit Cup, Dinosaur Ryuzaki's comeback failed, so he once again returned to seclusion, seriously studying his deck again.
He had originally been full of confidence, feeling that this comeback would be a big one. He never expected to make a huge mess instead. The king couldn't make a successful return; instead, he handed a head to a fledgling rookie.
Especially since that rookie's previous record before this tournament was completely blank, it was imaginable that whenever that person appeared in the future, people's first reaction would definitely be: "Damn, isn't that the guy who beat Ryuzaki into the ground?"
In other words, the further that newcomer went and the more he appeared, the more Ryuzaki would be mocked.
Failing to take off after years of seclusion was one thing, but failing and becoming a background character was something no one could tolerate.
"Fujiki Yugen. Very well, I've got your name."
Ryuzaki muttered coldly.
He had no choice but to find an opportunity to duel again.
Until he beat that kid, he would have to keep carrying this shame, until the joke spread even further.
Just as he was thinking this, he suddenly felt an itch in his nose and let out a "Hmph" sneeze.
"Strange, why do I suddenly feel a bit cold behind me?"
Ryuzaki inexplicably wiped his nose.
What's this feeling of being thought of by someone?