As Yūki stepped out of the gymnasium's side door, a perfectly timed "ding" sounded deep in his mind.
[Defeated duelist Kurosawa Kōshin. Soul Power gained: 2 points.] [Duel Coins gained: 300.]
Yūki kept walking, one hand in his school uniform's trouser pocket, strolling along the tree-lined path toward the cafeteria.
The cafeteria was a roar of voices at noon, and the serving lady's hand shook as if she had late-stage Parkinson's.
Carrying a plate of chicken curry and rice he had barely managed to snag, Yūki found an empty seat in a corner and sat down, casually pulling up the pale blue, translucent screen deep in his mind.
[Host: Fujiwara Yūki] [Soul Power level: Lv1 (2%)] [Duel Coins: 300] [Unlocked archetype packs: None (Kurosawa Kōshin is a minor duelist and does not meet the unlock requirements)]
Yūki stirred his rice with a stainless steel spoon, crunching the numbers in his head as he chewed.
Beating a 3 Stars school vice president had only given him 2% Soul Power.
If he relied entirely on picking off innocent kids at this level, he would have to torment at least another forty-nine to reach Lv2.
"Still, that works."
Yūki shoveled a large mouthful of rice into his mouth, a subtle smile in his eyes.
Although Kurosawa carried a 3 Stars rating, most of it had been inflated by stomping weak opponents at school.
But this actual match had at least helped Yūki get a thorough grasp of the situation.
In the eyes of this era's duelists, "attack points" were not just a monster's stat, but their spiritual totem.
If you smashed through them head-on with a big monster, they might still shout, fired up, "Next time, I'll definitely surpass you!"
But if you defended behind a concrete wall until they questioned their lives, then used Magic Cylinder to bounce their pride straight back into their faces...
The effect was completely different.
That was called psychological trauma.
Yūki returned his spotless tray to the collection point in an exceptionally good mood.
In any case, the win credit against a certified 3 Stars had already been automatically uploaded to Kaiba Intranet by Building Three's terminal.
With the mandatory requirement for promotion to two stars settled, nothing stood in the way of registering for Duel Academy's autumn entrance examination.
As for the remaining system Soul Power progress...
"With this many people at school, I can grab a few every day to grind experience. I'll get there eventually."
For the next three full days, the school's Duel Club became Yūki's "private experience farm."
The moment the bell rang, Yūki's harmless-looking smile would appear in the hallway right on schedule.
He grabbed one unlucky soul for a game during each ten-minute break, played three straight matches during the forty-minute lunch break, and after school, he simply commandeered main stage three, warmly welcoming all challengers.
Over eighty percent of the school's students knew the basics of playing cards, and the Duel Club alone had a solid fifty or sixty core members.
Yūki was like a cold, merciless stall-deck harvesting machine, steamrolling everyone from the upper grades down to the middle school division.
Day one: twenty-two consecutive wins.
The boys and girls of this innocent era displayed an admirable devotion to banging their heads against a wall.
Before taking the stage, every one of them gritted their teeth, convinced their bonds could break through any defense, roaring with bloodshot eyes as they slapped down big monsters with over two thousand attack points, then charged fearlessly into Yūki's front row.
As for the results...
They either punched straight into Stealth Bird's seventeen-hundred-point alloy wall, getting battered by reflected damage and having to take a thousand-point miniature missile before dying...
Or the gravitational field of Level Limit - Area B forced them all to their knees, leaving them to watch helplessly as the Wave-Motion Cannon in Yūki's back row charged up one notch at a time like a ticking bomb.
Some even painstakingly summoned an advanced Fusion monster with a whopping twenty-six hundred attack points, then kicked out with a wild laugh, only to run headlong into a cold, merciless Magic Cylinder and instantly die at full health to their own ultimate move.
Day two: thirty-four consecutive wins.
Far from dwindling, the crowd attracted a whole group of upperclassmen who refused to believe it.
"That Fujiwara from Class Two is seriously freaky! His monsters never attack anyone. He just screws you over with walls and traps!"
"What he plays isn't a proper duel at all! Come out and fight me head-on if you've got the guts!"
Amid repeated roars of impotent rage, challengers lined up confidently to take the stage, then lined up to be helped off, clutching their chests in despair as their life bars were burned dry.
By the afternoon of the third day, the entire Duel Club had been beaten into a massive support group for the withdrawn.
The last match was against a first-year who had only recently joined the club.
Before four turns had passed, the new student finally managed to put down three monsters, only for Yūki to flip Just Desserts to take off 1,500, follow it with Stealth Bird flipping up and down for another 1,000, then finish things with a roaring blast from Wave-Motion Cannon.
The instant his Life Points hit zero and the Duel Disk's screen went dark, the younger student dropped onto his backside and looked at Yūki with reddened eyes, his voice thick with tears:
"Fujiwara... what you're playing isn't a duel at all!"
Expressionless, Yūki put away his deck and snapped his deck box shut.
After nearly a hundred intense matches over three days, he had practically "sent off" the entire Duel Club, from one star to 3 Stars, with his stall-deck turtle shell.
"Fujiwara Yūki!"
Just as he left the activity room, a hoarse, suppressed voice abruptly erupted from the bend in the hallway.
Yūki stopped.
Kurosawa Kōshin stood rigidly in the middle of the hallway, blocking his path.
In just three days, the once-dashing vice president who had always held his chin slightly raised now had frighteningly bloodshot eyes, had visibly lost weight, and wore his uniform tie crooked.
The recording of his defeat to reflected damage from Magic Cylinder three days earlier had spread like wildfire throughout the school, humiliating him completely.
He had gone two full nights without sleep, frantically taking apart his deck in the dormitory and maxing out every Spell Card that could target the back row.
"Fujiwara, one more match!"
Kurosawa stared fixedly at Yūki, dark circles around his eyes. "This time, there's absolutely no way I'm falling into your traps again!"
Yūki glanced at him and unfolded his Duel Disk, his expression unchanged.
"Sure. I just need that last bit of experience."
The surrounding hallway quickly became packed with students who had rushed over at the news, all of them even breathing more quietly.
Kurosawa Kōshin had indeed made extremely drastic adjustments to his deck.
He ran a full three copies of Mystical Space Typhoon and had even added Nobleman of Extermination to clear the back row.
However, against a seasoned stall-defense player, such blind countermeasures only seemed tragically heroic.
Right at the start, Kurosawa played two copies of Mystical Space Typhoon in succession, smugly destroying Yūki's Level Limit - Area B and a trap in his back row.
But Giant Soldier of Stone, with its two thousand defense points, lay firmly sideways in Yūki's front row.
Kurosawa's big monster crashed straight into it, only to take a full 400 points of reflected damage instead.
Then, on his next turn, Yūki leisurely drew a Messenger of Peace and slid it into his back row. All monsters with 1,500 or more attack points were now unable to declare attacks!
By the sixth turn...
Kurosawa had completely emptied his hand, and three powerful monsters with over two thousand attack points stood in his front row, unable to move a single step before Messenger of Peace's golden barrier, like three ridiculous statues.
It was Yūki's turn.
Stealth Bird flipped face-up in the front row once more, delivering 1,000 damage.
The fully charged Wave-Motion Cannon in the back row fired with a thunderous blast, filling the air with flames that wiped out Kurosawa's remaining Life Points.
Kurosawa Kōshin stood rooted to the spot, his hands hanging limply at his sides as the cards on his Duel Disk scattered across the floor.
The surrounding club members were utterly silent.
From arrogance to anger, then to utter despair.
The resolve of the school's most prestigious 3 Stars vice president had crumbled completely to dust.
Yūki snapped his deck box shut and silently sighed.
Looks like I really ought to consider carrying a riot helmet when I play cards at school from now on.
Late that night, in his rented room.
Yūki lay on his bed and opened the system panel with practiced ease.
[Host: Fujiwara Yūki] [Soul Power level: Lv1 (95%)] [Duel Coins: 5,100]
His results were spectacular.
His Duel Coins had shot straight up to 5,100, while his Soul Power level was closing in on the threshold of Lv2, only a final 5% short.
"Too bad everyone in the Duel Club's scared stiff now. When they see me come in, they scatter faster than if they'd spotted the dean."
Yūki rolled over and looked at the ceiling.
Only 5% remained. Winning a match or two at a public dueling hall downtown would get him over the threshold.
The following afternoon, after school.
Yūki put on his schoolbag, ready to follow the map to the dueling hall downtown.
Just as he reached the door of the Duel Club's activity room on the third floor, the sound of leather shoes abruptly broke the silence from the opposite end of the hallway.
Tap, tap, tap.
Steady and forceful, carrying a certain pressure unique to those in authority.
A middle-aged man in a well-fitted navy blue suit and gold-rimmed glasses approached, his hair meticulously groomed, with two solemn student officers following behind him.
Yūki stopped.
Although the original owner's memories contained little interaction with him, he recognized that face.
Sato Renshan, vice principal of Domino City Third Middle School and honorary head instructor of the school's Duel Club, an expert with officially certified five-star professional credentials.
Sato Renshan stopped three paces in front of Yūki.
Through his lenses, he scrutinized the seemingly harmless black-haired boy before him, his gaze deep.
"Fujiwara Yūki."
Sato Renshan adjusted his glasses, his tone betraying neither pleasure nor anger:
"In three days, you've beaten the entire Duel Club so badly that no one dares open the door. You've made quite a stir."
"Let's talk."
Before you continue