The midday breeze swept over the roof of the Dueling Hall, but failed to disperse the almost solid heat inside.
The spectators in the stands numbered nearly a third more than they had that morning.
"I heard that first-year, Yūki, single-handedly handed the professional Paradox Brothers a clean sweep this morning?"
"That's not even all! In the second match, that timid little runt from the Red Dormitory supposedly whipped out a gigantic drill with 6,000 ATK, then stole Gate Guardian and stuck him on his chest as an accessory!"
"Seriously? The Paradox Brothers are veterans who lasted more than a dozen turns against the King of Games, and two first-years walked all over them?"
"Why would I lie? Haven't you noticed all those upper-year Obelisk Blue students who usually have their noses in the air showed up? Everyone wants to see whether the Paradox Brothers can turn things around in this third match or lose every last shred of their reputation!"
The noisy chatter rolled through the stands like waves.
On the east side of the Dueling Arena, however, the Paradox Brothers' faces were so dark they could almost drip ink.
Faint red marks from the cooling patches removed at the infirmary still lingered on their foreheads. Their hands pressed hard against the card slots of their Duel Disks, their back teeth grinding audibly.
Pressure.
An indescribable feeling of being crushed beneath a mountain.
Their first two losses had been so devastating that they had not even earned another half hour lying in the infirmary.
If they could not beat even the makeshift lineup of Hayato Maeda and Yūki in this final match of the afternoon, they would be finished in professional dueling. Tomorrow's dueling weeklies would undoubtedly lead with "Former rival of the King of Games reduced to training