Celina had defeated Tony, it was a long duel, yet the sun still burned high over the Duel Palace, as if the day had no intention of ending.
# Suite — Yume
"Why did she bring her hands together?"
Yume kept returning to that movement before Celina's Fusion Summon: palms meeting in a sharp clap, almost a prayer, almost a strike.
Tony had fought better than the spectators expected, but that wasn't what stayed with him.
"Yuzu did the same thing. Every Fusion Summon: hands together, a clap, then the summon."
"Is that how you're supposed to do it?"
Half hidden behind the seat ahead, he tried it. He looked like he was catching a fly.
"Weird," he muttered.
"Duelists had habits; I have understood that much, but these girls came from different places and had never trained together. Had someone taught them both? Or had the movement been inside them from the start? Yuya didn't do it though."
Neither possibility made him comfortable.
# Administrative Council Chamber — Ryo
The doors closed behind Jaeger. On the screen, Celina's replay had stopped; below, guards led Tony away.
The Mayor remained standing, his red-and-green coat and high collar framing his painted face. The five elders barely moved.
"I've given you my name," he said. "I'd love to hear yours. Reports are so dull."
"Reiji Akaba. Leader of the Lancers."
Riley had released Reiji's sleeve but remained half behind him. "…Riley Akaba."
"Ryoho Akaba," I said. "But please, call me Ryo."
"Ryo. Short names are such a kindness."
The Chairman's smile held, though something behind it hardened.
I'd expected a tall, loud Mayor. Instead, the most dangerous presence barely reached the table.
"Before accommodations and tournaments," Jaeger continued, folding his gloved hands, "a small question. Why am I only now hearing about a war between dimensions?"
"I'm merely curious. Foreigners arrive, Security arrests them, Facility suffers a breakout—and nobody thinks to inform the Mayor? Surely there's a reasonable explanation."
Nobody volunteered it.
"If you'll allow me," Reiji said, "why does this City need a Mayor when it already has a Council?"
He wanted them to draw the boundaries aloud. The man in yellow obliged.
"Security protects our citizens and handless criminals and their activities. We handle matters beyond the City, such as the war your Lancers have brought."
"They haven't brought it," Jaeger interrupted pleasantly. "War finds its way in, like a plague through locked doors. Something was always going to come for us, my dear people. War is just one of many things. Let it be war or something else, things that would call catastrophe always comes somehow."
His affection sounded less comforting than the warning.
"The Mayor handles local affairs," the elder resumed stiffly. "Roads, utilities, festivals, permits, Commons housing. The Friendship Cup's public face."
"Everyday life people live in City. Yes, that's me. As such, I have a humble request to ask."
Council members looked down, their heads bending.
"I want a bodyguard."
Five rulers who could discuss dimensional war over tea looked as though he'd requested their shoes.
"Someone strong and faithful. Someone you trust." He gestured toward us. "My guards can lift cars, but this City defends itself with decks. Strong cards would be wasted on them. With a storm approaching, one needs a larger shield."
It was a great Irony.
A shield. We were Lancers, meant to pierce through things, not stand and take the blows.
"These are guests. We cannot inconvenience them." The man in gray objected. There was force in his tone.
"The war is still distant," another added. "Preparations are under control. They aren't hired help."
"So considerate for mere guests," Jaeger murmured. "While sending them off to under—"
He coughed twice with his fist near mouth.
"My throat is bad right now. Excuse me."
He left the accusation unfinished. Everyone knew where their hospitality led: a dangerous tournament, then a war they hadn't announced.
Only the Chairman concealed his irritation, though his little laugh had vanished.
"They'll receive excellent care," Jaeger continued. "They'll be keeping me safe, after all. One person capable of eliminating an enemy will suffice. Not your captain, naturally. He seems strong but he has to stay by your side."
He studied Reiji, then me.
"So I'll take—rather, this one will accompany me."
"Why not the youngest?" The female member suggested. "Ryoho isn't particularly imposing," she added. "Neither his height nor his build—"
"Please don't make me say cruel things about a young man." Jaeger's smile remained pleasant. "Appearances deceive. They do say never judge a book by it's cover, but they also say first impression is last impression. Still, a bodyguard needs more than an impressive body. Ryo will do."
Will do?
That left me. But nobody sounded so pleased about this.
Riley was more confused than surprised, but there was no sadness in him.
The Council tried again: our schedule, the tournament, Security's attention. Jaeger agreed with every objection and changed nothing.
"I'll go." I finally said.
Reiji didn't look at me. If he intention to oppose this request, he would already have intervened.
The elders looked affronted. The Chairman alone nodded.
"Splendid." Mayor was pleased.
# Outside the Administrative Council Building — Ryo
The black car gleamed in the afternoon sun. I sat across from him, feet barely reaching the floor. Between us, a cabinet held golden champagne, wine and amber liquor worth more than months of Commons meals.
"A drink?"
"No, thank you."
"No excuse about being underage? I suspect adulthood won't change your answer."
"The reason seemed obvious enough."
He chuckled and poured pale gold wine into a narrow, stemmed sauvignon blanc glass. His careful sip barely disturbed it.
Did that even count as drinking?
"A celebration, and hope," he said as though he read my mind. "Champagne marks celebration of results you wanted. This wishes for results still to come."
I didn't particularly care.
"Who told you about us? And why one bodyguard when you could request a hundred?"
"You have a guess." He swirled the wine. "Jean Michel Roget. Not simply through a report, though. Must I list the past two weeks?"
Arrests, Duel Chasers, the Facility breakout, the Council's rescue—and a Friendship Cup contestants using a summoning methods unknown here.
Of course someone in authority would notice. The Council must had deliberately kept Jaeger away.
Was he dangerous? Was his connection to Roget reason enough for suspicion? Or did he distrust them and want me as insurance when war comes?
Council members and Duelists from here aren't particularly strong. Does he want to blackmail Lancers by me, just like how Council is doing?
If leverage was his aim, disrupting the everyday life under his control seemed easier.
A folded banknote lay among the coasters. Jaeger's painted face smiled from it.
"Wondering why it's me?" He asked with anticipation.
I didn't deny it. Why his face was on currency of this world was certainly intrigued me to know.
"The Council has no public face. Five people behind a door that never opens to Commons. People can't trust a door. They need someone opening bridges, waving during the Cup, keeping their lights on and reason enough to believe." He tapped the note. "Someone they recognize.
"They retain secrecy, the people retain trust, and I'm remembered whenever somebody buys bread.
"A mere words might not affect and reasure them, but just small pickles of credibility calms them."
He sipped as the car pulled away.
# Administrative Council Chamber — Reiji
After Mayor left, porcelain rattled.
Reiji had waited through the selection and Ryo's departure, neither indifferent nor blindly trusting. He'd wanted the man controlling the conversation gone.
"Now I'd like to hear about Jaeger.
"You've handed my brother to someone you clearly didn't want here. That deserves a sufficient answer."
The Chairman lowered his face from above.
Refusing after that performance would look worse than explaining.
"You've met Roget," the Chairman began. "You've seen Security's order. Crime has declined for years. But he wasn't always a Director."
"An ordinary man," the man in gray said. "No name, connections or fortune."
"He had ideas," the woman conceded. "A leader's creativity. A mind that could make a city behave."
"But brilliance doesn't overcome lineage, restrictions and wealth," said the man in yellow. "Without them, a man stays where he's born. On top of that, Roget had no background and had came from nowhere."
"He had none..." Reiji understood.
"Jaeger recognized him," the Chairman replied. "He provided him opportunities. Roget used them to reach his present position. The Director sits there because the Mayor put him there."
Reiji adjusted his glasses.
He'd thought Roget controlled Security almost independently of the Council. Now the man who'd made Roget what he is now was alone with his brother.
"I see."
For the first time since arriving, someone in this dimension genuinely interested him.
# Security Headquarters, Monitoring Room — Roget
Roget waited amid white walls and flickering screens: tournament footage, cameras, lights moving across a City map. He watched none of them.
A representative of the card manufacturer entered and bowed over two metal suitcases. His company existed because Roget had permitted it.
Identical size, finish and latches. Even Roget couldn't distinguish their intended recipients.
"Perfect."
He handed one to the officer behind him, then called a young Duel Chaser and commanded to come.
"You'll deliver the other. Only the contents, not the case."
"Sir?"
"Write an accompanying letter. Something fitting my image, my words. The recipient must believe it came from me: Duel Chaser 227."
The young man's eyes widened.
"First wait at Public Safety Bureau reception. A special invitation is being prepared. Deliver it with the contents. Not the suitcase."
"Yes, sir!"
He hurried away. Roget returned to his chair without smiling.
The senior officer understood the missing case. Its seal would identify the manufacturer—and expose whom that company supplied their cards. A stranger's imitation of Roget's voice offered gratitude without a traceable signature.
He'd served Roget since Commons riots came every other day. He'd watched authority impose order: unrelenting patrols, cameras, arrests. Calm had spread like frost, beautiful indoors and cold against the skin.
Now Roget seemed bored with the smoothly running City, impatient for his pieces to move faster. The officer didn't know the game. He only knew he will do anything to maintain order.
"Your tournament plans, sir?"
"The Council thinks the Cup is its stage. Cheering Commons, comfortable Tops. But the crowd merely conceals what matters: who gets to win.
"The Council wants to use the Lancers. The Mayor wants to borrow them. I want them broken, one by one, before everyone, in a tournament everyone accepted as fair. Foreign heroes losing to our people deprives the Council's war of soldiers and shows who truly protects this City."
He lifted a chess pawn.
"Every duelist I send is a reminder. Even a discarded one."
"227."
"Having failed once, he has nothing left to lose. That makes him loyal." Roget replaced the pawn. "Let's see how fast he runs."
# The Old Motel — Duel Chaser 227
Water stained the ceiling. Tape held the cracked window together; a pipe knocked inside the wall.
227 sat hunched on a sagging bed. His uniform hung clean and pressed behind the door, the only thing he still maintained.
His real name hadn't mattered for years. His number had meant something.
And he'd failed it.
An envelope slid beneath the door.
He stared. Nobody sent him anything. Nobody knew he of.
Inside lay new cards he had never saw, a letter, and a thicker, gold-edged invitation.
"Officer 227.
"A man is not measured by the moment he falls, but by the moment he chooses to rise. I have not forgotten your service, nor your loyalty to the order of this City. I believe you still have more to give.
"Take these. Use them well. The City is watching. So am I.
"— J. M. Roget, Director of Security"
He read it three times, his vision blurring. Then he examined the invitation.
The Friendship Cup.
Gratitude was too small a word. Someone had reached into his disgrace and pulled him out.
The Director remembered. Believed in him.
He stood straight, heels together, and saluted the empty room.
His voice cracked, then strengthened.
"Duel Chaser 227 will not disappoint you again! I'll restore my faith! My duty! Security's reputation! I swear it, Director!"
Tears fall like rain, as he prepared himself.
# Suite — Razz
Everyone else talked about the next match. I watched telivision while skipping beats.
The duel was over, but there was thirty minutes break until next match.
Until then, I stared at Celina and Tony's looping duel.
That girl was terrifyingly frightening.
Not merely strong. I knew strong.
Celina looked at Tony as though she'd already finished the duel and was waiting for us to catch up. Every sharp word felt like another bite. Her aggressive attitude and terrifying words.
I felt as though I was a innocent deer, peacefully chewing grass in a meadow, completely unaware. Then, a predator landed on me.
And that predator was a female.
And before I could even run, she tore through my chest and devoured my heart.
The Orphanage — Afternoon
"Sister! Can we watch Yugo duel? For real?"
Children tugged at her sleeves. They'd seen his name on the electronics shop's dusty television, set outside on a crate for Commons spectators.
"Only if you promise to stay calm and not disturb anyone."
"We promise!"
"But weren't his dreams of winning the Friendship Cup idiotic?" Sister reminded what these kids used to say.
Mouths closed. Children examined the dirt; one boy picked at his knee.
The Sister smiled, and they erupted.
"We're going! We'll see Yugo!"
"And Yuzu! Will she duel again?" A little girl was excited.
They'd cheered her televised duels as though nothing could be more wonderful and entertaining. Watching them race across the road, the Sister resolved to thank Yuzu when she returned.
She wanted everyone home: Yugo, Yuzu, Rin, every child sheltered here. Yet she couldn't know what awaited them beyond the screen, or whether they'd return.
And Yuzu's dueling had troubled her. Even through that flickering picture, she'd seemed to be copying someone—or changing her entire approach to convey something.
Not simply enjoying herself. Waiting, hoping someone would watch and understand.
# The Mayor's Box, Duel Palace — Ryo
Thick glass muffled the crowd. Jaeger occupied the central seat, elevated by a cushion nobody mentioned. I sat slightly behind him.
"I've given someone important a way to contact me," I said casually. "If anything happens, a message or call should suffice."
"How responsible."
His brief glance suggested he'd understood more than one meaning. Then something below distracted him.
I lowered my Duel Disk beside the armrest and opened a private channel. There was a message.
Yuto. When you interrupted my duel with Shun, how did you force it to end?
The question had returned during the car ride. I'd never found time to ask.
An inbuilt function. He replied. It is common in Heartland Duel Disks.
I reverse-engineered yours and even assembled it again but there was nothing unusual.
It's the duel-joining function. Joining synchronizes the Disks. It deliberately forces an error during synchronization, and the ongoing duel terminates. Not any hidden hardware. This problem has already been solved by Heartland's technicians long ago, but it can still be reparate through malfunctioning the synchronization.
Thank you for telling me.
But Why ask me now?
I glanced at Jaeger, smiling at the crowd.
Thinking about ending things that shouldn't continue.
It will be of use in not faraway future.
I closed the channel. I was relieved to hear that Yuto was still managing. I had never doubted his ability. His patience, however, was another matter.
# Duel Palace — Stadium
Nearly thirty minutes after Celina's duel, lights flared over spectators busy arguing, buying food and replaying her attack.
"Ladies and gentlemen! Still with me?" Melissa called.
The Commons roared; the Tops leaned forward.
"Our next challenger: a Commons rider with a sky-high dream! Yugo!"
Marble eyes and a wide grin filled the screen and his giant hologram flickered on stadium. Somewhere beyond the Palace, children would be shouting his name.
As well as his opponent also was showed on screen and his hologram also appeared.
"And his opponent—a man of law and order, reclaiming his honor! Security Officer, Duel Chaser 227!"
A hard jaw, a helmet. Eyes covered with sunglasses. Expression caught between pride and desperation.
Jaeger raised his pale wine and barely sipped. "Now this should be interesting."
I looked from the screen to him.
Sunlight still blazed over Duel Palace.
The day wasn't anywhere close to over.