Who Let Him Play Yugioh? (Re-Upload)

[Incoming call: Mokuba.]

Kira glanced at the caller ID, thought a moment, and answered.

”Yo? Mokuba?”

”Yeah.”

Mokuba was at his office computer, fingers flying.

”You busy right now?”

”Not really—”

Before Kira could finish, Mokuba heard a strange shout over the line: ”Activate trap: Sakuretsu Armor! Destroy the attacking monster upon attack declaration!”

Then Kira’s lazy voice:

”Then counter trap: Seven Tools of the Bandit. Pay 1000 Life Points to negate the trap and destroy it.”

Opponent: ”Nani!?”

”Therefore, Dark Scorpion - Chick the Yellow’s direct attack continues.”

”Aaargh—!”

Mokuba paused.

”You’re dueling?”

”Yup,” Kira said offhandedly. ”Dark Duel—dealing with a trash duelist… but it’s fine, he’s weak, no problem. Say what you need.”

”Uh, is that really okay—”

Even Mokuba was at a loss.

Taking a call during a duel is rare enough, but during a life-or-death Dark Duel… unheard of.

It could only be said that Kira transcended common sense in all respects.

Mokuba: ”If the timing’s bad, I can call later—”

”No, it’s fine. You called at just the right time. I’m about to wrap up—give me thirty seconds.”

Kira said casually.

”Chick’s effect: upon dealing battle damage, return the continuous trap Call of the Haunted on the field to the hand.”

”…”

Half a minute later, just from the sounds alone, Mokuba had started to mourn the nameless opponent.

He didn’t know who it was, but clearly a man with a mountain of sins. Without that, he wouldn’t have run into Kira the demon and suffered this torture…

”Alright, I’m done here,” Kira said. ”What’s up?”

”Oh, nothing big. About you making an appearance at the opening ceremony—we need to nail down details, like your exact time slot, the theme of your remarks, whether you’ll go on stage normally or air-drop in with my brother…”

Air-drop? Like the president descending from the Blue-Eyes White Dragon jet?

Kira considered.

In the past he might have thought that was too much fuss. Now he felt… why not?

”Give me a bit. I’ll head over once I finish here.”

”Okay.”

They hung up.

Kira ended the call, then strolled over to the Soul Eater, who was barely clinging to life.

Soul Eater strained to lift his head. The man’s face was half-swallowed in shadow, and for a moment he looked like the reaper come to claim his soul.

His heart clenched. ”W-what are you going to do?”

”Nothing much.”

Kira raised his hand, fingers splayed toward the man.

”You finally touched the extraordinary, gained power, and chose to use it to hurt others—and to stain the duel itself. So this power…

”Might as well be used by someone proper.”

His eyes flashed open. His palm became a bottomless black hole. The Soul Eater felt an inexorable pull grip him. Amid a string of shrill screams, a mass of black energy was forcibly torn out of his body by that gravity and sucked into Kira.

About thirty seconds later, when nothing at all remained, Kira lowered his hand. The murderous duelist had shriveled into a husk, eyes round and glassy, utterly still.

Kira turned away, walking out, and thumbed his earpiece.

”It’s done. Move in.”

The Knights of Hanoi, who’d been on standby outside, surged in to clean up. Kira didn’t linger—he didn’t even look back as he left.

This time, he not only took the man’s deck from his duel disk—he took his power. Literally.

It was a new technique he’d learned from the ancient alchemical tome Lyman left him. A skill for plunder—absorbing others’ power to easily grow stronger.

By this method, even without god-tier tools like the Millennium Items, or god-tier spirits like the Egyptian Gods, by absorbing and accumulating, one could reach a sufficient realm.

Such abilities aren’t even that rare. Even outside alchemy, many villains do this. Yubel can devour the darkness in opponents’ hearts through duels to repair herself; that little crayfish (Tragoedia) can consume souls and power via Dark Duels to approach full resurrection.

Of course, this sort of thing sounds shady—hardly a technique for good people.

But that’s fine. Kira didn’t consider himself a good person anyway.

That’s why he’d begun using Hanoi resources to hunt Dark Duelists like the Soul Eater. Some people are blights on society and the dueling world just by living—better to make them more useful after death.

He boarded the plane again, heading toward KaibaCorp.

The five Dark Scorpions were chattering away in the cabin.

”I’m sure I took down more than you!” Chick yelled.

Cliff guffawed. ”Nonsense. I counted. You only took five—while I took six.”

”You miscounted,” Chick said confidently. ”Besides, I took the most important one. The Soul Eater’s head is mine.”

Cliff bristled. ”He lost to the master’s duel. What’s that got to do with you?”

”Then tell me—who did master summon to deliver the finishing blow?”

Cliff was speechless.

He’d realized something. Chick was supposed to be the most cowardly of the bunch—hence ”Dark Scorpion - Chick the Yellow.”

But ever since joining their current master, and after discovering Chick’s self-lock loop with Call of the Haunted and Makyura the Destructor, he’d gotten a little… full of himself.

The bickering morphed into an argument over who was the master’s most trusted lieutenant.

Don Zaloog spun his revolver and posed. The strongest is to leave the opponent with no plays—his ”hand destruction” combo with the master killed possibilities in the womb. What’s stronger than leaving the opponent with no cards?

Meanae: by that logic her viruses could blow away the opponent’s monsters right in the deck—cutting off possibilities even more ruthlessly than hand destruction.

Chick wouldn’t have it: do you not understand the gold content of an infinite loop?

Feeling neglected by the new master, Gorg got annoyed: it’s about the Dark Scorpions’ teamwork. Their five-man unity into a one-shot Jackpot 7 kill was the true ace.

Gorgo only rubbed his belly, wondering when the next meal was.

In the end, the five slung arms around shoulders and agreed: together, they were the master’s best lieutenants…

Until they turned and noticed the senior sister, Silent Magician, somehow materialized in the cabin, staring icily at them.

Her face showed no expression, yet conveyed an undeniable authority.

The five pipsqueaks seemed to understand, and fell silent at once.

They never argued again about who was number one.