Post by tonysk on Dec 26, 2019 3:27:08 GMT
*BZZT* *BZZT* *BZZT*
The vaguely human shaped lump in the middle of the bed stirred. An arm emerged from the underneath the comforter and grabbed the phone.
“Nope. Not today, Satan.”
The lump ignored the call and tossed the phone from the bed to the carpet. Once again, the phone started vibrating. This time the lump tossed back the covers and sat up. His hair was disheveled. At least a week’s, maybe more, worth of facial hair had begun to form a beard. Red veins made his eyes look like mints.
In short, he looked like shit. The bedroom he was in didn’t look much better. Bottles of rum, whiskey, and Dr. Pepper appeared to be littered on every single dresser, chair, and shelf of the room along with a healthy amount of them sprawled on the floor.
Maybe he rose to quickly. Maybe it was the smell of his own stink. Maybe, even, it was the sight of the bender he’d been on for the last week. Whatever it was, it call came up at once and he reached for a nearby trash can to throw up in.
*BZZT* *BZZT* *BZZT*
“Whu-Why is he still calling?”
Finally out of things in his stomach to reintroduce into the world he picked up the phone.
“Why?”
“Look, you know I wouldn’t be dialing this number if it wasn’t important, world shattering business.”
“Give me one good reason why I shouldn’t hang up right now.”
“I need your help. Me. Not Konami, or the guys on the Genesis server, or the Rebels. This is a favor for me.”
Silence filled the air for so long that the caller thought the transmission had dropped.
“I’ll listen to what you need, but I’m not agreeing to anything until I know what this is about.”
“Good. I know you don’t need the money, but it might be good for you to get off that mountain you’re living on. Can’t be spending all of your days throwing cash at the store you run and the liquor store simultaneously, right?”
“You’ve got one more minute before I’ve gotta puke again, Kochen.”
“Okay, fine. Jokes aside, this one is important. There’s a duelist in California who has a lot of potential. He awakened a few days ago and, well, for a newbie he’s got enough juice to show up on our radar.”
“Which means there are some unsavory types who’d be more than willing to take advantage of that kind of a talent. Got it. Now why isn’t this a job for you or Shaft?”
“I’m busy keeping an eye on Genesis and Shaft is of the mind that if the Rebels get involved it can turn into a big war scenario, and wars are bad for business.”
“So, just to confirm, you want me to pick up a kid? That’s it?”
“Yup. Once you can confirm that he’s safe I’ll give you a location for a meet and we’ll take care of the rest from there.”
“Anything else?”
“You might have to duel. Also, if you could keep the duel energy usage in public to a minimum that would help. Konami still isn’t willing to acknowledge that types like us exist.”
“Fine. I’ll need a few things. I want half of the money upfront. You’ll also have to send me a duel disk with a clean duelist id and two decks which I will provide lists for. I don’t want to be noticed. Also, I need a car.”
Kochen snickered. “I’ll have the duel disk, decks, and cash delivered tomorrow. Do me a favor and just use the car we both know you have in the garage behind your shop, okay.”
“After this, no more favors.”
“Thanks, Tony.”
Tony tossed the phone back on the floor and stumbled into his bathroom just in time for another round of vomit. “This is a fucking mistake.”
First he shaved, slicing off the stray stubble and growth that rendered him unrecognizable. He only cut himself once. Then a shower that was a few days in the making. Finally, he put on some fresh clothes and walked out of onto his porch and saw the sun for the first time in a few days. Laptop in hand, Tony crafted two decklists and e-mailed them to Kochen. His plan was to present himself as a common duelist with no credentials. The Ryu Samurai name and duelist id carried too much baggage and was more likely to create obstacles he didn’t need to deal with.
The Next Day
Sunlight crept through a crack in Tony’s curtains. For the first time in a week he opened his eyes and didn’t immediately feel a tinge of regret and the desperate need to expel the contents of his stomach. He started packing bags for the trip waiting for Kochen’s delivery. Hours passed and by the time he’d completed a packing and thoroughly cleaning his home night had fallen and, with it, a guest.
A knock at the front door echoed through the house. Tony didn’t notice anything on his security system and when he checked the front door there was no one there. He was met with a familiar face when he turned around.
“Tristam. You’re a long way from the hidden village in Detroit.”
“I owed Kochen a favor. He needed this delivered and I already knew where you were hiding, so I was an easy choice.”
Tony paused for a second. He didn’t have time to ask how Tristam knew where he’d been living.
“It’s quite simple. Chris began building a database of all card shops in the country for an initiative he was planning. The idea was to send out our trainees, many of which have not yet awakened their duel energy and have them fight. This allowed us to observe their awakenings and hunt for undiscovered talent. The store in this town, Storm’s End, was somehow not in the Konami database but we knew that it sold product thanks to a dip from a distributor. I found this odd and confronted Kochen. He said nothing, but I knew something was up.”
“So then my secret got out. How many people know?”
Tristam shrugged. “You’re safe. The list is myself and Kochen. But I must ask why?”
“I have no interest in trying to save the world. We got lucky in Tokyo and I’m not willing to risk lives on something stupid like that ever again.”
Silence filled the space between the two former Rebels as Tristam moved to open a briefcase. “Two decks in two deck boxes. One duel disk with a fresh duelist id registered to one Amuro Ray. Very clever.” Tristam stifled a chuckle before noticing something irregular with the disk. On the LP panel all four digits were flashing. “What the hell is this?”
“Do you have a disk with you? Check it!” Tony pulled his new duel disk out of the briefcase and checked for any defects. While he did this Tristam raised his.
“I’ve got the same thing.”
“The duel ring server is offline.”
“How?”
“That doesn’t make sense. Konami has made a habit of referring to the server as a lone computer to protect the real secret. The duel ring server is actually three supercomputers that function as one. Each is named for a different character: Yugi, Kaiba, and Jonouchi. This error readout on the lp dash means that the server is unavailable, which shouldn’t be possible…”
Tristam grabbed his phone. “I’m getting something from a member of my team. Konami has a security issue. I need to go.”
Tony nodded. “I’m going to California tomorrow morning. This shouldn’t take more than a week. I’ll let you know how it goes.”
Before Tony finished his sentence Tristam had already left. In Tokyo a dangerous plot was underway, but that’s a story for another time.
Tony woke up, showered, shaved, and dressed before nine. He hadn’t done this since leaving Tokyo. He would never admit it, but the events of the war left him feeling empty inside. Even during the old duelist wars and the struggle against the NDA he had never needed to fight to kill. In Tokyo he went from being a duelist with extraordinary abilities to a soldier. After the war, after signing over Konami back to its original owners for a hefty lump sum of cash split amongst the Rebels, Tony thought he could return to life as a regular person with special abilities who liked to play card games. After all no one knew that he was the Ryu Samurai. Try as he might, though, he couldn’t help but think of the people he dueled in Tokyo who were dead: Donnie, Truth, and Latoma.
For months he would wake up in the middle of the night with his eyes glowing blue, fearful of imagined enemies swearing revenge. The alcohol helped numb the thoughts and dull his duel energy enhanced senses, but he still had to deal with the dreams and memories. He had hope, though, that maybe doing this job for Kochen would tip the karmic scales somewhere closer to a balanced state. All of this was on his mind as he walked down the mountain trail from his home to the small game shop he’d opened up after moving to New Mexico: Storm’s End.
Storm’s End was a modest shop that occupied the first floor of what was formerly a two story house. His manager, a friend from college named Gina, lived on the second floor. In the back there was a garage that Tony used for his vehicular projects after he gifted the Party Van to Shaft. He loaded his belongings into the car. A heavily customized 1990 Fairlady Z Twin Turbo in crimson red with gold accents, lovingly designated as the ZX-01 Crimson Thunderclap was his new ride. The engine was replaced with a duplicate version of what was currently in the Party Van, complete with custom designed fuel cells and special parts that allowed the Z to maintain speeds necessary for speed dueling. While currently deactivated, the Z also had the Speed World 2.0 and Speed Duel 1.0 OS installed.
With a sigh he revved the engine and sped off for California.
“Let’s go play the hero, again.”
Next Time: California Schemin’, Trapped In Based World, and a man walks into a locals.
The Duelist: Chapter Two
Author’s Note: This is the first chapter of The Duelist, which is also the first arc of DMG Super. I’m not sure how long this is going to be, but I really just wanted to tell a short story to help ease myself back into writing stories as I’ve very much not written anything in a long time. These early chapters might be a bit rough, but I’ll do my best to fill in explanations for why things may be different from what you may or may not remember from DMG the Series and its two sequels. I currently don’t have a planned release schedule for The Duelist and would prefer to continue at my own pace. As such, don’t be surprised if you see multiple chapters in a month or even week as I get back to practicing regularly. Should I enjoy this, and if I see a positive response from you guys, I do have plans for multiple arcs following this one.
Thank you.
The vaguely human shaped lump in the middle of the bed stirred. An arm emerged from the underneath the comforter and grabbed the phone.
“Nope. Not today, Satan.”
The lump ignored the call and tossed the phone from the bed to the carpet. Once again, the phone started vibrating. This time the lump tossed back the covers and sat up. His hair was disheveled. At least a week’s, maybe more, worth of facial hair had begun to form a beard. Red veins made his eyes look like mints.
In short, he looked like shit. The bedroom he was in didn’t look much better. Bottles of rum, whiskey, and Dr. Pepper appeared to be littered on every single dresser, chair, and shelf of the room along with a healthy amount of them sprawled on the floor.
Maybe he rose to quickly. Maybe it was the smell of his own stink. Maybe, even, it was the sight of the bender he’d been on for the last week. Whatever it was, it call came up at once and he reached for a nearby trash can to throw up in.
*BZZT* *BZZT* *BZZT*
“Whu-Why is he still calling?”
Finally out of things in his stomach to reintroduce into the world he picked up the phone.
“Why?”
“Look, you know I wouldn’t be dialing this number if it wasn’t important, world shattering business.”
“Give me one good reason why I shouldn’t hang up right now.”
“I need your help. Me. Not Konami, or the guys on the Genesis server, or the Rebels. This is a favor for me.”
Silence filled the air for so long that the caller thought the transmission had dropped.
“I’ll listen to what you need, but I’m not agreeing to anything until I know what this is about.”
“Good. I know you don’t need the money, but it might be good for you to get off that mountain you’re living on. Can’t be spending all of your days throwing cash at the store you run and the liquor store simultaneously, right?”
“You’ve got one more minute before I’ve gotta puke again, Kochen.”
“Okay, fine. Jokes aside, this one is important. There’s a duelist in California who has a lot of potential. He awakened a few days ago and, well, for a newbie he’s got enough juice to show up on our radar.”
“Which means there are some unsavory types who’d be more than willing to take advantage of that kind of a talent. Got it. Now why isn’t this a job for you or Shaft?”
“I’m busy keeping an eye on Genesis and Shaft is of the mind that if the Rebels get involved it can turn into a big war scenario, and wars are bad for business.”
“So, just to confirm, you want me to pick up a kid? That’s it?”
“Yup. Once you can confirm that he’s safe I’ll give you a location for a meet and we’ll take care of the rest from there.”
“Anything else?”
“You might have to duel. Also, if you could keep the duel energy usage in public to a minimum that would help. Konami still isn’t willing to acknowledge that types like us exist.”
“Fine. I’ll need a few things. I want half of the money upfront. You’ll also have to send me a duel disk with a clean duelist id and two decks which I will provide lists for. I don’t want to be noticed. Also, I need a car.”
Kochen snickered. “I’ll have the duel disk, decks, and cash delivered tomorrow. Do me a favor and just use the car we both know you have in the garage behind your shop, okay.”
“After this, no more favors.”
“Thanks, Tony.”
Tony tossed the phone back on the floor and stumbled into his bathroom just in time for another round of vomit. “This is a fucking mistake.”
First he shaved, slicing off the stray stubble and growth that rendered him unrecognizable. He only cut himself once. Then a shower that was a few days in the making. Finally, he put on some fresh clothes and walked out of onto his porch and saw the sun for the first time in a few days. Laptop in hand, Tony crafted two decklists and e-mailed them to Kochen. His plan was to present himself as a common duelist with no credentials. The Ryu Samurai name and duelist id carried too much baggage and was more likely to create obstacles he didn’t need to deal with.
The Next Day
Sunlight crept through a crack in Tony’s curtains. For the first time in a week he opened his eyes and didn’t immediately feel a tinge of regret and the desperate need to expel the contents of his stomach. He started packing bags for the trip waiting for Kochen’s delivery. Hours passed and by the time he’d completed a packing and thoroughly cleaning his home night had fallen and, with it, a guest.
A knock at the front door echoed through the house. Tony didn’t notice anything on his security system and when he checked the front door there was no one there. He was met with a familiar face when he turned around.
“Tristam. You’re a long way from the hidden village in Detroit.”
“I owed Kochen a favor. He needed this delivered and I already knew where you were hiding, so I was an easy choice.”
Tony paused for a second. He didn’t have time to ask how Tristam knew where he’d been living.
“It’s quite simple. Chris began building a database of all card shops in the country for an initiative he was planning. The idea was to send out our trainees, many of which have not yet awakened their duel energy and have them fight. This allowed us to observe their awakenings and hunt for undiscovered talent. The store in this town, Storm’s End, was somehow not in the Konami database but we knew that it sold product thanks to a dip from a distributor. I found this odd and confronted Kochen. He said nothing, but I knew something was up.”
“So then my secret got out. How many people know?”
Tristam shrugged. “You’re safe. The list is myself and Kochen. But I must ask why?”
“I have no interest in trying to save the world. We got lucky in Tokyo and I’m not willing to risk lives on something stupid like that ever again.”
Silence filled the space between the two former Rebels as Tristam moved to open a briefcase. “Two decks in two deck boxes. One duel disk with a fresh duelist id registered to one Amuro Ray. Very clever.” Tristam stifled a chuckle before noticing something irregular with the disk. On the LP panel all four digits were flashing. “What the hell is this?”
“Do you have a disk with you? Check it!” Tony pulled his new duel disk out of the briefcase and checked for any defects. While he did this Tristam raised his.
“I’ve got the same thing.”
“The duel ring server is offline.”
“How?”
“That doesn’t make sense. Konami has made a habit of referring to the server as a lone computer to protect the real secret. The duel ring server is actually three supercomputers that function as one. Each is named for a different character: Yugi, Kaiba, and Jonouchi. This error readout on the lp dash means that the server is unavailable, which shouldn’t be possible…”
Tristam grabbed his phone. “I’m getting something from a member of my team. Konami has a security issue. I need to go.”
Tony nodded. “I’m going to California tomorrow morning. This shouldn’t take more than a week. I’ll let you know how it goes.”
Before Tony finished his sentence Tristam had already left. In Tokyo a dangerous plot was underway, but that’s a story for another time.
The Next Day
Tony woke up, showered, shaved, and dressed before nine. He hadn’t done this since leaving Tokyo. He would never admit it, but the events of the war left him feeling empty inside. Even during the old duelist wars and the struggle against the NDA he had never needed to fight to kill. In Tokyo he went from being a duelist with extraordinary abilities to a soldier. After the war, after signing over Konami back to its original owners for a hefty lump sum of cash split amongst the Rebels, Tony thought he could return to life as a regular person with special abilities who liked to play card games. After all no one knew that he was the Ryu Samurai. Try as he might, though, he couldn’t help but think of the people he dueled in Tokyo who were dead: Donnie, Truth, and Latoma.
For months he would wake up in the middle of the night with his eyes glowing blue, fearful of imagined enemies swearing revenge. The alcohol helped numb the thoughts and dull his duel energy enhanced senses, but he still had to deal with the dreams and memories. He had hope, though, that maybe doing this job for Kochen would tip the karmic scales somewhere closer to a balanced state. All of this was on his mind as he walked down the mountain trail from his home to the small game shop he’d opened up after moving to New Mexico: Storm’s End.
Storm’s End was a modest shop that occupied the first floor of what was formerly a two story house. His manager, a friend from college named Gina, lived on the second floor. In the back there was a garage that Tony used for his vehicular projects after he gifted the Party Van to Shaft. He loaded his belongings into the car. A heavily customized 1990 Fairlady Z Twin Turbo in crimson red with gold accents, lovingly designated as the ZX-01 Crimson Thunderclap was his new ride. The engine was replaced with a duplicate version of what was currently in the Party Van, complete with custom designed fuel cells and special parts that allowed the Z to maintain speeds necessary for speed dueling. While currently deactivated, the Z also had the Speed World 2.0 and Speed Duel 1.0 OS installed.
With a sigh he revved the engine and sped off for California.
“Let’s go play the hero, again.”
Next Time: California Schemin’, Trapped In Based World, and a man walks into a locals.
The Duelist: Chapter Two
Author’s Note: This is the first chapter of The Duelist, which is also the first arc of DMG Super. I’m not sure how long this is going to be, but I really just wanted to tell a short story to help ease myself back into writing stories as I’ve very much not written anything in a long time. These early chapters might be a bit rough, but I’ll do my best to fill in explanations for why things may be different from what you may or may not remember from DMG the Series and its two sequels. I currently don’t have a planned release schedule for The Duelist and would prefer to continue at my own pace. As such, don’t be surprised if you see multiple chapters in a month or even week as I get back to practicing regularly. Should I enjoy this, and if I see a positive response from you guys, I do have plans for multiple arcs following this one.
Thank you.