Phil: 4000 Hajime: 4000

  Rebecca blankly stared at the blood-red text scrawled across the floor and at the shadows closing in. The darkness was like a pool of water spreading on the ground, but it did not touch her shoes. Even as the liquid shadows flowed around the room, there remained a circle of about one or two feet around Phil that remained clear, allowing the original concrete floor of the cold storage room to still be shown.

  It was in that circle Rebecca stood. She couldn’t help it. Though she’d talked tough earlier, and a frantic sense of urgency and care for her Grandpa remained like burning coals in her stomach, she could stop her limbs from trembling. From shivering under the cold and from under the sense of sheer oppression emanating not just from the cloaked man, Hajime, but even from Phil himself. Rebecca could see the side of Phil’s face from where she stood, hidden behind his legs. On the surface, he wore a relaxed expression on his face, as if this were just another Tuesday for him. Beneath that lurked a fire in his eyes. A desire to tear the man before him into pieces limb by limb, as a particularly sadistic child would to an ant.

  Then a warm hand landed on her head, tousling her hair for what was not the first time. Rebecca looked up to see Phil watching her over his shoulder. His stolen baseball cap was missing from his head, having placed on top of her head with his gesture.

  “Don’t be scared. It’s just a shadow duel.” Phil said with a comforting wink. “Eyes up. Shoulders straight. Don’t blink, don’t drop your focus for even a minute. This is how you kill a man.”

  His words fell like a brick wall dropping on Rebecca’s head. Her eyes widened.

  “Watch closely.” Phil finished. He was smirking, but Rebecca could see past his devil-may-care expression.

  Phil was sad.

  Really, really sad.

  -=-=-=-=-=-=-=-

  Phil turned his attention back to the duel once Rebecca finished tugging the Yankee’s cap firmly over her head. If the situation had been any more different, Phil might have chuckled at seeing her pigtails smushed under a baseball cap that was sized just a wee bit too big for her.

  Laughter was a little difficult to summon amidst the hanging corpses. Their eyes watched him, though Phil could not tell if their gazes were judging or hopeful. Perhaps it was his own fault for trying to assign emotions to dead bodies.

  “I’ll take the first turn.” Phil brushed past his discomfort to smoothly announce his intention. Hajime gently nodded. The man hardly seemed to care about the turn order.

  A boon, to be sure. Phil hid a smirk. Going first with this deck? Talk about an extra advantage.

  “I draw! Summoning in defense position, Poison Draw Frog (100/100)! I'll follow that with a face-down, and that's all she wrote!"

  A brown frog with a long tongue lethargically hopped onto the field. As it passed by Rebecca, it paused momentarily to let out a deep croak that began impressively, but at its zenith, the croak changed in tone as if its voice had cracked, causing the frog's slimy face to screw up in such a ridiculous expression that it was even able to draw a few giggles out of Rebecca's mouth. Then, with a satisfied face that indicated there was some amount of purpose to that gesture, the brown frog gave one last big hop to land on the field between Phil and Hajime.

  “Weak!” Hajime sneered. “What a joke. Is this what those body-swapping freaks were worried about? How about a real move! I summon Vanguard of the Dragon (1700/1300) in attack mode! Then I activate its effect! By sending a dragon monster from my hand to my graveyard, Vanguard permanently gains 300 attack points. And… here’s what I send.”

  Hajime’s voice trailed off menacingly as he revealed a card. Phil squinted, and then his eyes widened.

  “I send Blue-Eyes White Dragon from my hand to my graveyard.” Hajime smugly declared.

  Vanguard of the Dragon (1700/1300 -> 2000/1300).

  The man’s words rang true. Yet, it was more than that. As the familiar blue-and-white dragon flew from his hand to his graveyard, Phil was finally able to tell exactly who this man served.

  "A Rare Hunter," Phil muttered to himself.

  There were only three copies of Blue-Eyes White Dragon that existed at this point in time. All three of them belonged to the same man. The rest had been destroyed.

  Seto Kaiba.

  In this world, there were duelists, and then there were duelists. Seto Kaiba (and Yami Yugi) was one of the latter. No mere Rare Hunter had any hope of defeating Seto Kaiba in a duel, nor would Seto Kaiba ever willingly part with any of his three prized cards. Additionally, the prestige that man had in the dueling world was so great that even if he had lost to a Rare Hunter, or to anyone in general, Phil or one of his friends would have heard about it. Meaning, this Blue-Eyes White Dragon was counterfeit. A copy. A fake. Whatever you wanted to call it. It was something Rare Hunters really liked to do, making counterfeits of strong cards to give them the edge in duels. Hell, they’d even tried it with the god cards at one point, at least until a few of them got turned into lobotomy patients for their efforts.

  Hajime flinched in response to Phil’s muttering.

  “Bingo~.” Phil shot a finger gun toward him. It was basically confirmed now.

  “It doesn’t matter!” Hajime roared back. “Vanguard, kill that frog!”

  The spear of the blue, bipedal dragon pierced through the flesh of Poison Draw Frog like it was made from paper, but all Phil could do was grin.

  “Ah, that’ll trigger its effect. When this face-up card is sent to the graveyard, I get to draw a card.”

  “One face-down! Turn end!” Hajime declared.

  Phil drew another card to start his turn. He said nothing this time, only placing a monster in face-down defense position and ending his turn with a mysterious smile.

  “Draw!” Hajime spat out. “Monster Reborn! Come to me, oh engine of destruction! Give this pathetic intruder despair! Summoning Blue-Eyes White Dragon (3000/2500)!”

  The rattling of chains filled the room as each one of the hanging corpses swiveled their heads to stare with glassy eyes at the brilliant shining scales of the pure white dragon soaring onto the field. It was as if they were flowers swiveling to face the sun. Pressure built on Phil's shoulders. A cry of surprise behind him revealed it wasn't just Phil, but Rebecca as well. Her hands desperately gripped at one of Phil's legs as she was forced into a crouch from the weight alone. He could hear Rebecca’s breath coming out in labored gasps. A glance behind him showed her face was strained, and thick droplets of sweat were forming on her forehead.

  “Ha! Even if I don't kill you, Kaiba's gonna skin you alive, dude.” Phil couldn’t help but laugh out loud. He extended his hand backward to reassuringly pat Rebecca’s head. “Don’t worry, shortie. Easy breaths, in and out. This? This is a shadow duel. I told you that.”

  His voice darkened before continuing.

  “This is what you’re walking into.”

  Then Phil extended his arms out wide in a mocking ‘come at me’ gesture toward Hajime.

  Hajime smirked, wiggling his eyebrows so that they looked like fuzzy caterpillars crawling across his forehead.

  “You talk like you know him… as you wish! But before that, allow me to reveal my trap card! Activating the continuous trap card, Dragon’s Rage! This card allows my dragon monsters to do piercing damage! Now, Blue-Eyes White Dragon! Attack that face-down monster!”

  “Pft, of course I know him.” Phil shrugged. “Flew in his jet, too. A real fancy schmancy piece of equipment, I tell ya.”

  Any further casual conversation was cut off by the audible thrumming noise of energy forming in the maw of Blue-Eyes White Dragon. Light filled the room, so much so that even the living shadows were momentarily pushed back.

  Then a blast of blue and white light tore out from the dragon’s mouth. It ripped through the air in a flash, burrowing deep into the hide of Phil’s facedown monster.

  “T.A.D.P.O.L.E. (0/0)!” Phil gritted out as blood spurted past his teeth. His flesh sizzled as the piercing damage made contact. But Phil pushed through it all. “When my monster is destroyed by battle, I can add any number of T.A.D.P.O.L.E.’s from my deck to my hand.”

  Two more cards floated out of Phil’s deck to land in his hand while the deep red life point counter in the flood steadily ticked down.

  Phil: 1000 Hajime: 4000

  “Vanguard. Strike!” Hajime called out, motioning for his second dragon monster to attack directly.

  Phil spat out a wad of blood on the floor and let loose a bloody grin. “Man that hurts so good! Sorry, but I can't let the game end this quickly. My quick-play spell activates! Book of Moon! Flip the Vanguard face down!"

  As Phil flipped over the face-down card he’d placed at the beginning of the duel, a familiar blue book covered with mystical hieroglyphs floated onto the field. Its pages flipped open, moving on their own until finally one near the middle was selected. That page glowed with an ominous blue light that washed over the bipedal dragon, forcing it backward until it was eventually driven into a defensive position.

  The battle phase ended. Phil was still confidently standing despite the blood on his teeth. Hajime arched his brow.

  “Is this it?” The man questioned. He gestured toward the Blue-Eyes White Dragon on the field. “Weak frogs? After all that talk? How disappointing.”

  Phil spat out another wad of blood onto the ground. He turned to Rebecca, who was crouched shivering behind his legs, and gave her a grin that caused her to at least momentarily forget her fear in favor of a look that questioned Phil’s sanity.

  “Another thing, Rebecca. Life points? They don’t fucking matter. Not as long as they’re above zero.”

  He turned his attention back to Hajime as the man ended his turn.

  "Take this, for example! Haji-whatever, fuck you, whore! Dark Core activates!” As Phil revealed a spell card in his hand, a massive dark orb formed in the air, crackling with a nimbus of blue lightning. “By discarding one of my T.A.D.P.O.L.E.’s, I can banish one face-up monster on the field! Fuck you, eat shit, fall off your horse, die, and get that dogshit card off my field!”

  The dark orb floated through the air toward the massive dragon on Hajime's field. However, it was not until the very edge of the orb touched the scales of Blue-Eyes White Dragon that something happened. The lightning immediately ceased, vanishing in a heartbeat. Soon, the dragon's body followed. One moment it was there, and the next it was gone.

  “I think you already know this, but I’ll say it again, kiddo. This? This is how you remove a big booty beatstick off the field.”

  Rebecca stared back at him with her mouth wide open. The look in her eyes had changed, going from one of fear to wonder.

  It was not until her head poked out around his legs that Phil realized his terrible mistake.

  “FUCK YOU WHORE!” Rebecca screamed, shaking her fist at the Rare Hunter with such rage that he almost wondered if she was seconds away from dashing across the field to throttle the man with her bare hands.

  If Phil hadn’t known better, he might have thought Rebecca was possessed like her Grandfather with the rapid change from scared and worried to courageous and angry.

  -=-=-=-=-=-=-=-

  “FUCK YOU WHORE!”

  Those words felt really good to say, Rebecca decided. Whatever they meant. It couldn’t be good, if the way Phil… no, not Phil, Uncle Phil! Her Uncle Phil! If the way Uncle Phil blanched at her words was any indication. The harsh words felt like they were cutting right through all the scary stuff in the room.

  This story originates from a different website. Ensure the author gets the support they deserve by reading it there.

  The moving shadows, the evil-looking man, the way a trail of blood was leaking from the side of her uncle’s mouth. It was like something finally clicked in her head after being so horribly scared all day. After having her arm broken, being tormented by the creature who had possessed her beloved Grandpa, seeing Phil run from the police, imagining those terrible ghouls lurking in each and every shadow, while at the same time being so sickeningly worried if her Grandpa would ever come back.

  A switch had flipped, or a wire had snapped, and Rebecca wasn’t scared anymore. The mere idea felt foreign to her. A wild laugh tore out from her lips. A small part of her brain, one tucked waaayyyy in the back, brought forward the thought that maybe this wasn’t the right way for her to be feeling, but the switch in her head told it to sit down and shut up.

  “EAT SHIT AND DIE! FALL OFF YOUR HORSE!” Rebecca continued to shout while shaking her fists at the bad guy.

  “Rebecca… you probably shouldn’t… ah, whatever.” Phil began to say chidingly, but soon he shrugged his shoulders and gave up.

  “Don’t worry, Old Man Scruffy Uncle Phil!” Rebecca cheerfully called out. She patted him reassuringly on his leg. “Fuck that guy up! Make him cry and make him die!”

  -=-=-=-=-=-=-=-

  Lumina put a hand up to her head in despair. “Phil… that poor kid… what have you done… Forget Arthur. Solomon might kill you first.”

  Phil couldn’t muster a reply to Lumina, nor could he bring his focus back onto the duel. Rebecca had abandoned her shield of his legs, stepping slightly away to face Phil while still taking care to keep the edges of her shoes out of the shadows. Her hands were outstretched wide in the universal gesture of ‘pick me up’.

  All Phil could feel was resignation. All he could do was shrug. At least she didn’t look scared anymore. Gripping her under her arms, Phil hoisted the small child up and sat her on top of his shoulder.

  “Alright, ya bastard,” Phil grumbled out in resignation toward the cloaked man, who was waiting with a surprising amount of patience. “Guess I can’t take any more damage, huh?”

  “Ya bastard!” Rebecca echoed, following up the insult by sticking out her tongue at Hajime with a surprising amount of venom. “Uncle Phil Mech, go! Use your ultimate move! Shatter his kneecaps!” Her unbroken arm punched up into the air with such enthusiasm that Phil even forgot, if only for a few seconds, that he was standing in the middle of a room full of hanging corpses, which was also a fact Rebecca seemed to have either forgotten or entirely gotten used to.

  “Can’t do that yet,” Phil tsk’d, “But I can still do something special. By discarding my other T.A.D.P.O.L.E., I special summon The Tricky (2000/1200) in attack mode.”

  A tall humanoid creature wearing black and green jesters' clothing floated onto the field, its blue cloak billowing in the cool breeze spitting out of the A/C units dotting the edges of the room. Its face was completely obscured by a mask that had a large red question mark painted on its front.

  Hajime’s face paled. The fact was clear to both duelists – with Vanguard being flipped into face-down defense position by Phil’s Book of Moon, there was nothing stopping The Tricky from easily destroying the weaker dragon monster by battle.

  Phil and Rebecca ominously pointed in perfect synch toward Hajime’s facedown monster.

  “Destroy it.”

  The Tricky elegantly swept its cloak through the air. Then, pointing just as Phil and Rebecca were, a beam of light no thicker than a pencil sliced out of its fingertip to bore a sizzling hole through the head of Vanguard of the Dragon.

  "Nice shootin', Tex!" Rebecca cheered, holding her finger up to her mouth and blowing on its tip like it was a smoking gun.

  “One card facedown. My turn ends!”

  Hajime drew a card. His face was expressionless.

  “Pot of Greed. I draw two cards.”

  An evil grin grew across Hajime’s face. He revealed one card from his hand.

  “Ancient Rules. This spell card allows me to special summon a level 5 or higher normal monster from my hand to the field. The ultimate destructive force, Blue-Eyes White Dragon (3000/2500), serve your master once more!”

  Once more, a roar split through the air, heralding the arrival of a Blue-Eyes White Dragon. The shadows stirred, forced into action under the thunderous wingbeats of an engine of destruction.

  Phil eyed it with an easy smile.

  “I normal summon Lord of D. (1200/1100). Blue-Eyes! Attack!”

  The smell of ozone filled the air as Blue-Eyes White Dragon prepared its attack. Near the monster’s legs stood a grim spellcaster, clad in a blue cape and barbaric-looking dragon-bone armor.

  “Naw. You’ve activated my trap card.”

  “Ha! Lord of D.’s effect!” Hajime sneered in response. “Neither player can target dragon monsters on the field with card effects!”

  But Phil merely held out a wagging finger.

  “Uh uh uh! You silly goose, charging ahead before even asking what my trap does? Idiot. You stupid furry-eyebrowed freak! How does someone like you even manage to breathe on his own? How did you even join up with the Rare Hunters to begin with?!?!”

  Phil turned over his face-down card.

  “Zero Gravity. All face-up monsters on the field get their battle positions changed. Fun fact, this card doesn’t target, so Lord of D. can’t do shit against it. Everything is in attack mode right now, so that means they all get swapped to defense! You can’t attack at all!”

  The smell of ozone vanished in an instant. Both the dragon and the spellcaster were forced into defensive positions, as was Phil’s The Tricky.

  "One card face down. Pass… turn." Hajime snarled.

  Phil drew a card. His face grew smug, as did Rebecca’s once she saw the cards in his hands.

  "Wooo! Time to go for game! I'll sacrifice The Tricky to tribute summon Des Frog (1900/0)! Then, since I have T.A.D.P.O.L.E.'s in my graveyard, I can activate Des Frog's effect to special summon any number of Des Frogs from my deck to my field! Here are two more!"

  A total of three green frogs with empty, soulless eyes hopped onto the field accompanied by a chorus of baleful croaks.

  “Sure! But 1900 attack points won’t be enough to overcome the 2500 points of defense my Blue-Eyes possesses!” Hajime mocked.

  “Right.” Phil nodded his head to concede the point. Then he held up his hand and turned it over to reveal his palm. Tucked inside that palm was a singular spell card.

  “I’ve been sitting on this spell since turn one. Now that I have three Des Frogs on the field, I can use it! I activate Des Croaking to destroy every card on your side of the field!”

  The throat of the first Des Frog swelled up. Then the second frog's throat, and the third. They held that position for several seconds, each one letting out tiny little hums at different pitches. The pitches changed minutely, first going low and then going high, until the voices of all three frogs were perfectly in tune.

  Then there was a song. Words that were simultaneously beautiful and horrible floated from their mouths to soar through the air, twirling around hanging corpses and duelists alike. The song was underscored by Lumina, who was humming along cheerfully to the tune and waving her hands throughout the air like an orchestra’s conductor.

  “Ocean man, take me by the hand~”

  “Lead me to the land that you understand~”

  “Ocean man, the voyage to the corner of the globe~”

  “Is a real trip~”

  “Ocean man, the crust of a tan man imbibed by the sand~”

  “Soaking up the thirst of the land~”

  “Ocean man, can you see through the wonder of amazement~”

  “At the oberman~”

  Each lyric seemed to contain enough force to pierce skin and shatter bone. Lord of D. melted in the first verse. Blue-Eyes White Dragon was reduced to ash in the second, and so was the nameless facedown card. Hajime took one step backward, and then a second step. His mouth opened and closed, but no words came out. His face was as pale as a ghost.

  Phil winked at the man.

  “Battle phase. Boys, I need him alive and unlikely to die of blood loss in the next ten to twenty minutes.”

  The first frog let out a primal howl that sent the hanging corpses rocking back and forth on their hooks before diving at Hajime with all the enthusiasm of a starved man rushing toward a Thanksgiving roast. The second frog daintily wrapped a napkin around his neck, while the third leaned into the shadows to pull out a handful of jumbo-sized forks and knives.

  Phil: 1000 Hajime: 0

  “No! NO! Get away from me! GET AWAY!” Hajime screeched out in fear.

  But it was too late. The three frogs crowded around the man. One frog began to pass the silverware out, while another held Hajime to the ground. Two knives pierced through each of the man’s palms and into the ground, sliding through concrete as if it were made of melted butter. Two more knives followed suit, plunging through Hajime’s shoes, into his feet, and through the concrete below. Then the frogs stood back, allowing Phil to stand over his fallen opponent.

  “You know, even Kaiba doesn’t entirely rely on his dragons to win the day. He backs them up with utility spells and traps. You should have realized that.” Phil chided. He turned and walked over to the edge of the room. From there, he followed the wall until finally he ran into a small door, which opened to reveal a janitor's closet.

  “Right,” Phil said to Rebecca, “I gotta squeeze this guy for info.”

  “Squeeze ‘em!” Rebecca shouted.

  Stooping down, Phil retrieved an empty mop bucket, a dustcloth, and several full cans of spray paint. As he began to fill the bucket with water from a tap in the closet, he began to explain.

  “See, the thing about torture is that it’s unreliable. If it gets bad enough, a guy will say just about anything to make you stop. So, how do we still make use of it? Easy. Take the info we get, file it away, and try to find other sources to confirm it. Odds are if five guys say the same thing under extreme duress, then there might be a nugget of truth hidden in there.”

  Rebecca leaned over from her perch atop Phil’s shoulder to stare at the mop bucket.

  “You’re gonna torture that guy? With water?”

  Phil shut off the tap and heaved the full bucket up. As he carried it back over, the frogs inched away from Hajime. Drool dripped from their lips to land in sizzling puddles on the floor.

  “With water. The spray paint’s for later.” Phil confirmed. “Now, I’d really rather you not watch this, but I have a feeling-“

  “That I’m gonna say no? Smart uncle! You’re getting the hang of it!” Rebecca cheerfully finished his sentence and patted Phil on the head.

  Phil rolled his eyes. Truthfully, he'd rather her not watch or even be in the same room, but on the other hand… what if they were separated later? Best to get her initial reaction out of the way so that she won't freeze up on her own. That alone was reason enough for him to let the matter lie instead of repeating it as an order according to their little deal.

  The dust rag fell from Phil’s hands to settle on top of Hajime’s face. Only a slight adjustment was needed for it to completely cover his features. Phil then took the mop bucket in one hand while his other hand kept the rag pressed tightly against Hajime’s face.

  Seemed like his standards were falling day by day, didn't they?

  “Here goes.”

  He began to pour water on the dust rag over Hajime’s face. The effect was instant. The man’s legs began to thrash, even though every movement he made sent blood squirting into the air from the kitchen knives pinning his hands and feet into the concrete. His head shook, but one of the Des Frogs smiled a froggy smile and held the man’s head still with a pair of webbed hands. Phil paused in his pouring and then dropped more water on the dust rag.

  Hajime began to scream. He screamed even as water flowed into his mouth through the rag, causing his screams to turn into sputters that then turned back into screams muffled by the rag.

  "It's called waterboarding," Phil explained. He had to shout so that he could be heard over the man’s screams. “Terrible thing to go through. The Americans use it to get intel from the unlucky bastards they pick up. You know, a friend waterboarded me when I was little. Thought it would be funny. To be fair, I thought it would be funny too. We were gonna take turns and see who broke first.”

  Phil pulled the mop bucket back up and placed it on the ground.

  “It stopped being funny about two seconds in.”

  He snatched the sodden rag off Hajime’s head and threw it off to the side. The man’s face was twisted in fear. His breath came out in ragged gasps.

  “Pleasenopleasenopleaseno-“

  Phil aimed a kick at the asshole’s head. “Shut the fuck up. I ask, you answer. Question one. Are you a Rare Hunter?”

  “Yes!” Hajime sobbed. “Yes I am!”

  “What is this place for?”

  “I don’t know!”

  Phil yanked the dust rag off the floor, causing Hajime to visibly flinch.

  “WAITWAITWAITWAITWAIT! NONONONONONO WAITWAITWAITWAIT! IT’S FOR THIS GROUP OF CREEPS MASTER MARIK IS WORKING WITH! AN EQUAL PARTNERSHIP FOR A MUTUAL GOAL! THEY… POSSESS PEOPLE OR SOMETHING. THESE ARE EXTRA BODIES FOR THEM!”

  Phil placed the rag back on the floor.

  “Good man. Have you seen any of these ‘creeps’ yourself?”

  “Once…” Hajime gasped, “A real fancy man. Wore a suit. A grey one. Red waistcoat and tie. A proper gentleman, right? He spoke to Master Marik like an equal. No one does that. Said something… about items. He wanted to keep them while Master Marik wanted them to lure one of his enemies into a tournament.”

  “Hm, I see. Anyone else involved?”

  Hajime mutely stared at Phil. His eyes were wide with fear. “Right,” Phil shrugged, and without a moment’s hesitation, he jammed the rag back over Hajime's face and poured out more water. Hajime’s limbs thrashed uncontrollably until his right hand tore free of the kitchen knife that was impaled through its palm. The limb whipped through the air, but with one casual swipe of a froggy tongue, Hajime’s right arm no longer existed. It was replaced with a spray of blood that fountained high into the air, causing Rebecca to blanch back with an uttered noise of disgust. Phil jerked to the side just in time to avoid getting splashed, allowing one of the Des Frogs to lean forward with an open mouth and a greedy look to gulp up the scarlet liquid like a crackhead drinking straight from the soda fountain nozzle at the local gas station.

  Phil poured a full fourth of the water from the mop bucket onto Hajime’s face for good measure before he removed the rag from the man’s face.

  “R-red Summer. The gentleman’s name. And another… please, please my arm… I'm gonna bleed to death, man, please… I don't wanna die, man, I don't wanna die…”

  Each word was accompanied by a labored gasp. The menace Hajime had shown during the duel was nowhere to be seen.

  "Now, Rebecca, what you see here," Phil patiently explained toward the small child who was perhaps taking much more of an interest in the proceedings than she should be, "is a prime example of the adage, 'fuck around and find out'. More and more lately I’ve found myself following these words closely. This guy would have killed both of us if given the chance. Or worse. Because yes, there are several fates worse than death. But now that he’s on the backfoot, eating a spoonful of his own medicine? Now he asks for mercy. Maybe once upon a time I might have obliged. In another life, you could say. You know, the first time I killed someone, I puked my lungs out. Nightmares for days.”

  Phil’s face hardened.

  “But now my brother is dead. I don’t give a fuck about your arm, mate. Tell me what you know. If you speak fast enough, we might be done before you bleed out, and I can consider seeing about that arm.”

  “Tenma! Yako Tenma! He’s another partner, him and his screwball brothers!” Hajime blurted out, speaking almost a mile a minute. "They think this guy, I don't know, killed Maximillion Pegasus a few days ago! T-they want revenge, Master Marik wants revenge, and those body hoppers want power! It’s one big alliance!”

  “They give a name of the killer?” Phil idly asked.

  “Uh… a P… Phil?”

  Phil dragged his hand against his face and groaned. “Probably me. Shit. And I didn’t even do anything. Have they said anything about Battle City? Do you know where those body hoppers are based out of? Do they ever visit here?”

  “N-no, nothing specific. Just Master Marik. He wants us to be ready to hunt some kid. Yugi Muto, I think? But we can’t move until the tournament starts. Caused a big argument between Master Marik and the guy in the suit. The suit didn’t want to wait. That’s part of why I’m here. A sh-show of cooperation. To show that we can w-work together without getting in the way of our goals. I don’t know where those guys stay. I really don’t! I’m just a grunt! Never seen them come here before in my life either!”

  Phil side-eyed Rebecca before he asked his next question.

  “Final and most important question. Have you seen a real old guy around lately? Would have shown up today. Maybe goes by the name 'Arthur Hawkins', maybe not. Tall, thin, old, light gray hair, gray mustache. Wears a suit. Acts very erratically for his age.”

  “No! I’ve been here all day! I swear!”

  Well, it was a long shot. Phil stood and stretched, the sudden movement causing Rebecca to lean to the side to balance herself on his shoulder. Then, leaning down, he plucked Rebecca’s duffel bag off the floor and slung it over his other shoulder.

  “Thanks for the intel. Boys, din-din.”

  To their credit, the three Des Frogs washed their hands and waited politely for Phil and Rebecca to turn around before their feast began.

  https://discord.gg/jfRn8j5GaE!