Kazuki's overturned D-Wheel was still smoking on the track, and his unconscious body made it clear to everyone that the duel was over.
Silence. A deathly, absolute silence shrouded the entire arena.
Only after a full three seconds did it shatter like a volcanic eruption into a deafening roar!
"Holy crap! That was Accel Synchro, right!!"
"I've only ever seen that legendary move in the anime! I never thought I'd get to see it for real in a game, and in full-on zero-distance immersion!!!"
"As expected, if you're gonna play Duel Monsters, you gotta ride a bike!"
The players in the stands went completely insane. Some were so excited they hurled their caps into the air, some were hammering on the railings with both hands, and some just stood on their seats, swinging their arms and screaming Yusaku's name.
The two originally dim, half-empty player sections had exploded into chaos.
The Satellite Sector dojo students were even more stunned.
Two duels in a row, and both opponents had been OTK'd. The duels ended without Yusaku losing a single point of LP. So those self-important elites from the Upper City… didn't seem all that impressive after all.
Up in the very top tier of the stands, in the Upper City's reserved area, a figure suddenly shot to his feet, Duel Disk snapping open. Fujiwara's eyes burned with icy fury.
He yanked out a Deck haloed in soft daylight-colored radiance, the edges glimmering with tiny motes of light, slammed it into his Duel Disk without hesitation, and was just about to stride toward the stairs.
"Wait, Fujiwara."
A hand pressed down on his shoulder. The speaker was one of the two sitting behind him, a tall boy in a black long coat.
He glanced lazily at Yusaku on the field and spoke in a flat tone. "Looks like you're about to head down there again."
Fujiwara snapped his head around, his tone hostile. "Mizuki! What's that supposed to mean? You think I'm going to lose?"
Mizuki pushed up the silver-rimmed glasses on his nose. The reflected glare from the arena lights hid his eyes as the corner of his mouth curled into a cold smile.
"I never said that. But we've already lost two in a row. The morale of the entourage is scraping the bottom of the barrel. There's no need for unnecessary duels right now. And if you lose on top of that, it'll only shake the confidence of the new duelists who just joined the Academy."
He paused, looking toward the center of the arena at Yusaku. "Our teacher just sent word. There are still a few dojos up above stubbornly resisting. Big Brother has already gone on ahead to deal with them."
Fujiwara froze for a moment, then looked toward the very top row of seats.
Sure enough, the blond boy who had been sitting there like he didn't care about anything was now gone.
Mizuki patted Fujiwara's shoulder. "I know you want to win your Deck back. But now's not the time. We need to help Sensei clear out those last few stubborn Upper City holdouts. Once that's done, this floor will be all that's left. Cleaning it up then will be easy, won't it? Just let him strut around for a few more days."
Fujiwara ground his teeth, but in the end he could only sit back down, unwillingly.
Mizuki turned his gaze back to Yusaku, and his voice carried across the arena through the sound system.
"Your name is Yusaku, right? You have talent. Ever thought about joining Genius Academy? There, you can receive the very best training resources, and gain access to the legendary Deck Sleeve set 'Become a True Duelist.'"
Before Yusaku could respond, the crowd in the Satellite Sector stands exploded into a storm of curses.
"Shameless! They can't beat him, so now they try to poach him?!"
"Didn't your Genius Academy brag about how amazing you all are? So why can't any of you last a single turn against Yusaku-senpai, huh?!"
"Get lost already! Our senpai doesn't need your trash Academy!"
Listening to the voices behind him, Yusaku smiled faintly. "No thanks. I'm quite satisfied with the Satellite Sector."
"You made the wrong choice." Mizuki folded his arms, his tone laced with a touch of pity. "Those two you just defeated? At our Academy, their rankings are practically at the bottom. You don't actually think our Academy's overall strength is limited to that level, do you?"
He glanced at the smart watch on his wrist. "We don't have time to waste on you now. Three days from now, we'll be waiting for you at the Duel Tower on Basement Level 1. Try not to be too scared to show up."
With that, he waved his hand, gesturing for all the Upper City students to follow him out.
But just as he lifted his arm, a commotion broke out in the stands.
A group of players wearing indigo uniforms suddenly tore them off at lightning speed, pulled Takeuchi Dojo outfits from their backpacks like they had been prepared all along, and slipped them on. Then, with faces thick enough to rival fortress walls, they grinned and squeezed into the Satellite Sector stands.
"Yusaku-aniki! I've had it with those Upper City guys for a long time! Please carry me!"
"From this day on, I am your loyal fan!"
"The Upper City is too rotten. I'm willing to join you and help protect the Satellite Sector!"
Watching this instant mass defection, Kigi, who stood beside Mizuki, just stared blankly, his brain failing to process what he was seeing for a moment.
Just before the last duel started, this same crowd had been trading insults across the railing with the Satellite Sector students, yelling louder than anyone else.
Now they'd switched sides in the blink of an eye.
How could people have so little shame?
Faced with the sudden wave of "traitors," Yusaku was also taken aback for a moment, but then he decided it was nothing unusual.
Players, as a species, were like cabbage at the street market: one coin per kilo, and buy-one-get-one-free if you caught a sale.
Seeing this, the Upper City students were stunned into silence for a second, then erupted into chaos. Angry shouts and outraged cries blended together into a cacophony.
A buzz-cut boy's face flushed red all the way down his neck as he slammed a hand on the railing. "Those backstabbers! We handed out those uniforms before we came, and now they defect?!"
A girl in a finely tailored dress covered her mouth in disbelief. "How can they be so spineless? They've disgraced the entire Upper City!"
Several hot-headed students even stood up and pointed down as they cursed furiously. "Traitors! Just you wait! If you dare set foot in the Upper City again, we'll break your legs!"
The defectors, however, let the threats go in one ear and out the other.
They weren't Upper City residents to begin with, so what did they have to be afraid of?
One player in a baseball cap even replied in an oddly wistful tone, "Ever considered that we're undercover agents? It's just a tactic?"
The Upper City students froze for a second, then their curses grew even louder.
They had the nerve to call this "tactics" now?
Mizuki's face was dark enough to drip ink as he watched the defectors crowding around Yusaku.
With a cold snort, he signaled for his people to carry off the unconscious Kazuki, then led the rest of the Upper City students out of the arena in a fury.
Once the Upper City group had stormed off, the Satellite Sector dojo heads immediately hurried over. At the front was the head of Red Sun Dojo, his hands trembling with excitement as he gripped Yusaku's hand.
"Yusaku! Without you, the Satellite Sector would have been overrun!"
Yusaku coughed lightly twice and calmly pulled his hand free. "This isn't the time for that, Directors. You heard what they said. The Satellite Sector is basically under their control already. Only our Floor 27 is holding out, along with a few floors above still clinging on."
"If this keeps up, once the upper floors fall, we really will be the last floor left."
The Red Sun head let out a heavy sigh, his face suddenly turning grave.
"You're right. But against the Upper City, we don't have much in the way of options. They have over a thousand duelists, and almost all of them wield powerful Decks. In both resources and strength, our Satellite Sector duelists are worlds apart from them."
"So what, we just let them keep stomping on us?" the Asahi Dojo head snapped. "Instead of waiting around for the executioner, we should take the fight to them and counterattack the Upper City!"
Takeuchi's head stepped forward as well. "Exactly! We've had enough of their oppression these past years. Our duel resources are seized, our top students poached. If this continues, we'll be swallowed sooner or later!"
Yusaku thought for a moment. "Counterattack, huh? How many duelists in the Satellite Sector can still fight right now?"
Takeuchi's head fell silent, then said quietly, "Lion King Dojo and quite a few other dojos have already defected. Counting us Directors and the students from all the remaining dojos, we have… around 800 fighters."
The moment that number left his lips, the mood turned heavy.
The Upper City alone had several thousand official duelists, not to mention the absurdly powerful Decks they wielded.
At that moment, a player suddenly shouted, "800 it is! What's there to be scared of? Yusaku-senpai alone can take on ten! If we follow him, we can totally win!"
"Yeah! 800 is still 800! Better to strike first than just sit here waiting for them to butcher us!"
"We in the Satellite Sector aren't cowards!"
The crowd's emotions flared up again. People shouted their support one after another, and suddenly Kazetaro stepped out from among them, pointing at Yusaku.
"Yusaku-senpai! You're the savior of the Satellite Sector!"
The moment he said that, the students and players in the plaza chorused in agreement.
"Yusaku-senpai, you're the savior of the Satellite Sector!"
"That's right, you're our savior! Please lead us and shatter the Upper City's oppression!"
"..."
A student in a Takeuchi dojo gi squeezed his way forward and raised his Duel Disk. "I'm using a Fortune Fairy Deck. Let me divine whether this counterattack is auspicious or inauspicious!"
Before he could do anything, Kouki darted in and snatched the Duel Disk from his hands.
"What's the point of divining right or wrong? If it's inauspicious, we just drop the whole counterattack? Sit here and wait for the Upper City to grind us underfoot?!"
The question stunned the crowd for a moment.
He was right. If the divination said "bad outcome," were they really going to give up?
They all came to their senses at once and turned to Yusaku, shouting.
"Senpai! Let's move!"
"Yusaku-senpai, let's do it!"
"Better to take the initiative than sit around and die! They've already gone up to the higher floors, haven't they? We can follow and hit them while they're not expecting it, then rally the other floors for one final counterattack!"
"..."
When the shouting finally died down, every eye in the plaza was fixed on Yusaku, brimming with expectation and trust.
Yusaku looked at the students from each dojo, feeling their burning resentment and desperate hope.
Right now, the fate of the entire Satellite Sector was in his hands.
After a moment of quiet thought, he slowly clenched his fist, his eyes turning razor sharp. "All right. 800 is enough. Everyone take a short rest, tune your Decks, and then we move up."
…
Floor 23 of the Satellite Sector.
Flame Wolf Dojo, the undisputed largest dojo on Floor 23, had an expansive plaza normally reserved for duelist battles. Today, it was packed to the brim, shoulder to shoulder with people.
The crowd had split, almost naturally, into two sharply opposed sides. The air was thick with a tense, confrontational pressure.
Fujiwara casually stowed his Duel Disk and swept his gaze over the boy on his knees opposite him. Then he gave a dismissive side glance at the dojo students behind the fallen duelist, their faces dark with anger.
"So this is your dojo's senior disciple? This is it? Not a single one of you could last long enough to stir even a flicker of interest in me."
His words stabbed like barbs into the hearts of Flame Wolf's students. They clenched their teeth so hard their jaws ached, but all they could do was clench their fists and swallow their rage.
Before, they had at least been able to barely hold the line.
But once this Upper City group arrived, Floor 23's defenses collapsed completely.
These new Upper City invaders had Decks so powerful they made the earlier "vanguard" traitors of Floor 8 from the Satellite Sector look like jokes.
Especially this man named Fujiwara. He was a monster among monsters. Not a single one of the dojo's top five could last more than a turn against him. Even the dojo's senior disciple hadn't survived to see the fourth turn before going down.
Seeing that everyone was too outraged to speak, Fujiwara shifted his gaze to the bald, middle-aged man standing at the front of the Flame Wolf side.
"Head of Flame Wolf, if no one else in your dojo is going to step up, then according to the rules of a Cross-City Blood War, hand over your dojo key. And while you're at it, gather up all your students' Decks for me."
He paused, then added, almost lazily, "Of course, you can also choose not to hand them over."
Fujiwara crossed his arms over his chest, the corner of his mouth curling into a cruel smile.
"When the Upper City Enforcers get here in a bit, they'll have plenty of ways to make you see reason. If you refuse the toast and demand the penalty drink, then get ready to dig in the Upper City ruins. We're short on manpower for carving cards out of black stone tablets… and your little dojo just happens to be the perfect batch of labor to fill that gap!"
"There were some just like you before, dragging their feet and refusing to hand anything over. But rules are rules. In a Cross-City Blood War, the winning side takes all of the loser's resources. If you'd beaten me, I'd have given my Deck to you and my students behind me as well. But you lost. Be good little citizens and hand over the key. If not, then it's off to the mines."
He gave the students behind the Flame Wolf head a brief, icy once-over. "With so many people, your dojo alone is enough to solve that little labor shortage problem."
The Flame Wolf head's face had gone as dark as the bottom of a pot.
He looked down at his fists, clenched so tightly his knuckles were bone white, his nails nearly digging into his palms.
After a fierce internal struggle, he slowly opened his fingers, revealing a dojo key that glowed with silver light.
Seeing this, the students behind him couldn't hold back any longer.
"Sensei, you can't give him the key!"
"..."
Their protests rose one after another.
Fujiwara snorted impatiently and waved a hand. "You really don't know what's good for you, do you? Fine. I'll give you one last chance. Come on then, who's first?"
Before the Flame Wolf students could respond, the dojo's heavy main doors creaked open, pushed from within by an invisible force.
The squeal of the hinges cut sharply through the frozen air.
A clear voice rang out.
"You're that desperate for a duel? Then I'll play with you, Fujiwara."
All heads turned toward the doorway.
A figure in white stood framed in the light, the hem of his coat lifting slightly with each step.
He was a sharp-eyed, handsome boy whose every footfall seemed to land squarely on everyone's heart. In the silence of the dojo, the steady rhythm of his steps sounded especially loud.
Behind him, hundreds of people in matching uniforms flowed in like a tide, their momentum surging. In an instant, they crushed the Upper City's arrogant aura by more than half.
Flame Wolf's people were stunned.
They had never seen these uniforms anywhere on Floor 23. They were completely different from the outfits worn by Fujiwara's Upper City followers.
The Satellite Sector had 33 floors. The first fifteen had already pledged themselves to the Upper City.
Now that the Upper City's forces had advanced all the way to Floor 23, it meant that most of the floors below had already fallen.
So at a time like this… who would still come to help them?
"Could they be from the higher floors?" one Flame Wolf student murmured.
As soon as Fujiwara saw the boy's face, his pupils shrank. Then flames of rage flared up in his eyes. He snapped his Duel Disk open with a sharp smack.
"From this moment on, I am your opponent. Try to last more than a few turns this time and win your Deck back, defeated man."
(End of Chapter)
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