A Man Named Schroeder

There were rare few places all the way out in homey little Gravesfield where a person could get a deck.

If a duelist wanted good cards they’d have to troll online-only vendors or trading hubs.

And all were seriously expensive.

Duel Monsters just, for some reason or another, didn’t reach those here or in a lot of countries. Despite the rabble in Europe, Japan, and Korea.

That said, there was a place.

One singular place I knew had donated the school’s ten starter decks with the promise of free employment for the summer months and marketing. Along a small fee.

Turning around it was a mad dash beeline for the game shop at breakneck speeds.

It was a one room shebang called the Gilded Glib’s Duelist Central.

Open.

Thank God.

Opening the door a generic store chime sounded.

All the same I called out to whoever could be present.

The counter person looked up but did little more than hummm at him briefly.

“Eighteen minutes. Have your time cut out for you.”

“Of course?” I muttered.

“Hey.”

“Yes sir,” I yelped somewhat loudly.

“You go to the junior high? Gravesfield one?”

“Huh? Oh mmm yes sir. Why?” I pressed, somewhat suspiciously.

“No reason. Go on. Do what you have to. Till then, let me sleep.”

Sure enough he set aside his newspaper and put his head down beside it.

Quiet pressed upon the shop.

Letting me hear each and every step of mine on the wood tiles.

A last CREAK and I snapped up a bundle of booster packs.

All random spells, traps and monsters. I could organize and otherwise parcel them out however I wanted later.

But, cards were always different attributes, types, and of differing, random series in these packages.

For all I knew I would get a complete hodge-pudge of beasts, insects, light, water, fire-resistant, cold-resistant, opposing monsters, or unusable, useless spells.

I needed a unifier to my deck.

Some singular type to tie together with effects and buffs. Plus enough variety to adapt any set strategies.

I also favored a more dynamic, cautious structure of dueling. Ways in which I could feel out and pry out a duelist’s battle style and fight accordingly from that.

So, definitely a type that would allow strong defenses and minimal damages.

Gilded’s cases for individual cards were locked tight. Only an owner’s key could open one. Letting customers and younger kids look but not touch.

Or worse… when the vigil was sleeping, steal.

But it wasn’t too troublesome considering the displays were organized by type and unified “chains.” Series of cards that went together and grew in power when used alongside booster spells or coupled monster effects.

A couple cases by were my favorites. The Lunar series of beasts.

“Wolves.”

I wanted them. A start was a start. I could at least start a hand and then la—

—aaaater?

My ears just… popped.

Turning, the howl grew in pitch.

Crying out to the sky.

Mournful and supine, begging to be… held.

But I hadn’t cast a single spell.

I turned around wildly searching, I don’t know for what.

Either some speaker or even model out. A better explanation…

Peeking I could see the cashier still slept.

No hint of gold to my skin or nipping at the fibers of my shirt.

With careful steps, muscles taut and fists clenched in resolve equal to the hardened bone of soldier’s instincts.

I held my breath, howls slowly fading but sharply clear in my head.

What— what was this?

Possession? Glamours? Was I being— what why couldn’t I control my body.

Hands touching upon a beat up old box on a shelf ROAAAAAAAARUGHGGH the beast slathered and snarled.

“Heh heh. Duel Monsters?” I asked at school one day. “What’s that?”

I’d been given a noob deck set. Set against the newest member. Someone who knew the ropes no better than I did.

But could keep his hand to himself.

I noticed quickly the Dueling Club had near no girls.

What also turned clear to me was that… monsters were soldiers. Spells were glyphs.

And I…? I was the God whose hand shook but was a God nonetheless. I, sent ranks to their deaths.

From the first moment I looked into a card’s eyes there was this… this link that always carried out to me. The monsters felt— were— real. Sometimes more real than I felt on some days.

I was scared and I was frantic. Inside me the eyes of everyone, their bated breaths sent me into a dark place. Made the wooden table, the tiled floors, all of it, there was no one. No-thing. I was just me. Solitary. In the dark.

In the dark. And a crowd watching.

So I made the moves. Played the fields. Closed my eyes and bowed my head for each fallen.

And as the murmurs began to prick…

Because basketball, gym, cosplay, sewing, charm, and wit. I was good at it all. Yet here, here’s where Hunter Wilde was beat.

And that was the whole of it wasn’t it?

The monsters weren’t going to stay. Weren’t in a position to defend themselves without me.

So my eyes turned cold. Apathetic. Arrogant.

The Golden Guard took over and won the duel.

Once I’d looked down again it all slotted into place.

Hah! Once the field turned into tactical maps and I got my starter with goblin platoons or toy regiments it was a clean sweep.

Well, okay I had to read some so I didn’t accidentally disqualify myself.

Still… preliminary matches and simulation turned to analysis. Studying stats, style, picking up discs and swag.

Until I was in the monthly betting pool and winning.

“Haha,” I chuckled arms full with a pool of chips, chocolates, gummies, sour string, fruit rolls, and other cookies or salted stuff. “I said it didn’t I? Painless. I’m a man of my word.”

And stuck out my tongue.

The former ranked number two fumed and pointedly ignored me the rest of that evening but so had I. So had anyone else in the bracket for all of fifteen minutes.

Those snacks later found their way to Camila’s veterinary office for kids and others waiting on surgery or… unfortunate news… to munch on.

I spiraled. Down and down, down till my knees near gave way.

Petting fur, watching yet more leap for prey.

And— and sparkling lights. Orbs, bright glyphs.

As pixie fairies nipped just beyond their fangs.

Winked at Hunter— me.

Me. Winking and commuting to me and my heart.

That one.

It was mine for just ten dollars.

The man whose name I found out was Keji allowed me the extra time to register for the tournament.

He’d send away for my forms, writing in the rarest card of the set; a still common, average Brotherhood of Wolf monster. Just a level three.

"We can add this Change of Heart."

"Does it have to be a playing card though?" I wondered.

"Dunno, don't exactly care but we can cover our bases."

He made no promises.

Seto Kaiba’s was an exclusive event.

“Either way I appreciate it,” I said, still somewhat … figuring just what it was that was making my deck vibrate.

Keji grinned slyly. “Don’t, really Wild Child don’t appreciate anything. Don’t say any one word about ‘thank you’s or ‘aww so cool Kej-man.’ Give it three days and you’ll turn around screaming curses…” he broke out into bitter laughter.

“Why— why would—“

“Course that’s hardly skin off my bones. Sometimes you just get all these crazy crack legends from kids searching for discounts and ways to make a ruckus.”

“Legends?” I whispered, not just a little unnerved if fascinated.

“Hah! Yeah,” he said leaning in, waving me on to do the same.

Once I was good and close that he could drop to a whisper he told me. “So it goes that deck there is cursed, possessed. Spirits leaking out of the beasts. Always getting mad at their owners for something, ‘the deck’s not supposed to be theirs or hers or mine,’ ‘cards choose themselves.’ Supposedly the whole game is a modern reboot of some sick occult magic involving human sacrifice and rites to Hell.”

“Woah.” My eyes widened, clutching tight. The cards were still warm.

And— the warmth still fluctuated in a way that beat sedately in my hands.

Almost like the hot stuff was a purr.

I gazed to Keji. Surely he could see or realize— something.

Clutching them I presented my cupped hands.

“All talk of course. Seriously, you have a complaint and you will, I’ll give you your money back so don’t look at me so pitifully.”

“Right,” I said and with a sideways glance whispered back, “Though I figure myself made out of some tough stuff, stupid curse would regret… it. So much.”

Keji shrugged. “Could be. Just as many pros are starting to come out saying they speak and feel with their decks. I will tell you, the holographics are no joke. Fire and brimstone coming at real wizards, seeing it in their faces,” he whistled, “I would hate to be a Duel Monster. Really.”

“Yeah. I get where they’re coming from,” I agreed. “Well thank you… for uh… for the service.”

Keji simply nodded. Sure enough, now without customers let loose and lit a light. Exhaling he came out from the counter, taking coat and some keys.

“Look it’s late. Way too late for you, lemme give you a ride.”

Making me tense.

Among the first rules of the human world, or really any exchange of my life, never let just anyone know where you lived.

“Or not,” he sighed, somewhat defeated but nevertheless let it lie.

“Just be safe alright,” he said with a stern expression as he held the door open for me.

And slammed it just as I began my pedaling home.

Shoot. Cerbos was likely spinning a complete cocoon of the house by now.

***********************

In Germany, a White Castle with blue accents

A man in a cashmere robe lounged on the pool deck of his elegant home.

Sipping a cold, tangy cocktail.

Smiling and setting down the glass when his laptop chimed.

An email with a file attached that addressed the recipient as Schroeder Zigfried.

On it did he find his rousing Champion by the name of Wilde. No older than sixteen and vagabond appearance from a school ID photo on his information sheet.

**********************

“Okay maybe I didn’t think that far ahead happy now?” I sniped at a burner phone.

Where on the other side none other than Luz giggled. “Very,” she cheekily replied, before sighing, “it was really a good try, nice gesture.”

“I’m going to do it,” I enthused. “One way or another.”

I was at the foyer now, backpack in hand to meet with some of the library staff. Having asked about a small job. A one time thing to organize a community athletics event for kids. The pay was nothing to write home about but I’d been told to ask around. See if moms needed lawn work or garages organized.

“Oooo. Am I gonna have a famous dueling brother, well I better get an autograph while I can on all my notes… Yuchi Mouto won’t—“

At that point I was really losing my head with her. Not caring at this moment right now she’d happened to save my life once, twice. Or more than I could ever repay.

Who was counting though? Hardly mattered to the cackle beginning to nettle under my skin.

Just a second away from hanging up Luz composed herself.

“I’m sorry, I’m sorry. Look I don’t know dueling. Almost no one does but everyone knows the best in the game whoever it is in whatever game. And this Japanese kid, he’s the King.”

That was when the doorbell beat me to getting the knob.

For a moment I recoiled, tensing as Camila always made a point to inform me of guests. Mail was delivered every Friday, three days away, and trash or other maintenance assigned did not engage with residents unless outright summoned or required by a regulatory or functionality issue.

“I am absolutely certain you just misnamed that big shot.”

And by Dueling stats and tournament wins Hunter was near certain the “King” was still that hot air, egoistic billionaire Kaiba with his Battle City throw down.

And surely either/or she expected a snide remark. Some promise to introduce the Titan to this soft human preener.

Hmm. Well no need to keep whoever waiting. And if it was some human scam or ambush well… Luz very well should remember I’d stared down a King before. “I’m… going to have to call you back. Please stay safe and try not to come by with ash and a new mullet.”

“Weh. Wait a— Hunter?”

I cut her off there.

I’d text later.

Slow typed my foot.

Opening the door I found no one to greet. No indication at all there was any guest.

But my foot did in fact find evidence.

On the step was a sizable package, the sticker stenciled with our home address and my name in bold, thick lettering.

Not to mention a whole other letter tied to the corner.

Hefting it inside I found it to be barely a burden. Certainly something bulky was inside, and solid but other than that…?

Mrs. Noceda continued her washing in the kitchen.

“Mijo. Was that the neighbor? A few kids?”

I simply shook my head quite intent on the true mystery. Then again the who may matter just as much.

“Not sure,” and I not my lip slightly, “umm it’s against the law? Opening others’ mail right? Your name has to be on it?”

“Yes. Honey did you by chance, see something you really liked?” an uncertain note came to her voice.

Though I knew much better than to be wary. Give me some credit.

A person may just as likely mistake the checkout for check-it-out on that Internet.

“Haven’t been on those sites,” those confusing, scammers who can’t not know what they’re doing, “won’t allow it at school anyway. And Keji didn’t email me back yet about equipment.”

Camila sighed. “Well nothing more to do then. Go on mijo.”

When I cut open the front center of the box, to say I was surprised and more than a bit disconcerted was putting it quite lightly. Often the way Luz liked to say the nightmares were just little nicks from bed bugs.

Which didn’t make anyone less concerned being how bed bugs could bleed her dry if given an inch.

A duel disk ready for assembly lay in the box under layers of foil and bubble wrap. That and a single device that could only connect to a computer.

Then the letter.

Reaching for it, I found Camilla ahead of me and staring to the paper perturbed.

“Excuse me while I get my phone.”

Camila had drawn herself taut. Just as battle ready as she was clearly stressed.

Taking a look himself Battle City immediately registered.

A contract, just one page.

The bottom fold marked only with an X.

Whipping out his cell Hunter opened a new email.