Monday — 11:03 AM. Tournament Village.
The match against Leo hadn't left anyone indifferent. Even though it ended in a tie, Yugo had proven he could stand toe-to-toe with the best. The other teams were starting to see him differently. He was no longer just "the student council president who plays Cycloduel"...
He was the guy who went head-to-head with Rider Zero.
The tournament continued, and the semifinals were approaching. In two hours, they would face the Shadow Mirage, a team from Spain, known for their stealthy dueling style and real-time card swapping between members. Illegal… except here.
But something felt off within the team.
Kael was focused. Armin was studying the opponents' cards. Natsuo, meanwhile, was fiddling with his headset, his gaze drifting often towards Yugo.
— "You see how everyone's staring at us?" he whispered. "We're playing with the big boys now, man."
Yugo stayed silent.
He was still thinking about Leo.
---
Monday — 12:14 PM. On the way to school.
Between matches, students had to return to class. Cycloduel was still considered an extracurricular activity, so there were no official exemptions.
They all boarded the tram heading back to school.
Yugo watched the scenery go by.
And that's when he saw him.
At the Part-Dieu station.
A guy, standing alone, in a black uniform. Impeccable. Barely older than him. Dark sunglasses. A suitcase in hand.
He boarded the tram.
Their eyes met.
Instant tension.
No smile. No emotion. Just... fire in their eyes.
The guy walked towards him, calmly. He stopped right in front of Yugo.
— "Still standing so straight, huh?"
Yugo frowned.
— "…Who are you?"
The guy removed his sunglasses.
— "It's been that long, huh? Even though you still look the same. Me... I changed."
Silence. Then a cold voice.
— "Kenshiro."
Shock. Kael, Armin, and Natsuo froze.
— "Wait, is that… THE Kenshiro?!" Armin whispered.
— "The one from the 3 Nations Tournament? The one who crushed the entire Russian team in just two duels?!"
Kenshiro ignored it all. His eyes never left Yugo.
— "We're at the same school now. I transferred this morning. And I asked for one thing: to be in your class."
— "Why?" Yugo snapped.
Kenshiro leaned in slightly.
— "To finish what we never did."
A chill ran down Yugo's spine.
---
Flashback — Five Years Ago.
Two children. Two prodigies.
Yugo, the perfect student. Kenshiro, the shadow strategist. Together, they had entered a junior regional tournament. But at the finals... Kenshiro had vanished, forfeiting the match. Since that day, Yugo had never seen him again. He thought the guy had quit.
But he hadn't.
He had been training in the shadows.
And now, he was back.
---
Monday — 1:02 PM. Auguste-Comte High School, Room 2-4.
Yugo entered the classroom. And as promised, Kenshiro was sitting beside him. Same row. Same desk. Same icy aura.
The teacher handed out homework, mentioned the upcoming semifinal, trying to keep the mood light… but the air was heavy.
Yugo could feel the gaze fixed on him. Every move. Every word. Every breath.
As if Kenshiro was analyzing everything.
And as they left the classroom, he whispered:
— "Tonight, I'll be watching your semifinal.
And after that... it's you and me."
Then he walked away.
---
Monday — 3:47 PM. Tournament Village.
Back on the field.
The Shadow Mirage were already waiting at the starting line. The three Spaniards wore tactical glasses and had a real-time communication system set up. They weren't fast cyclists, but their decks were known for being reversed and unpredictable.
Kael climbed onto his bike.
— "Ready, guys? Time to show them what we're really made of."
Armin adjusted his screen.
— "We're in the semifinals. If we make it through this, we're heading to the FINAL… against monsters."
Yugo clenched his teeth. He thought about Kenshiro. About what was waiting for him. About Leo. About what the world expected from him.
— "Let's go."
But just as the countdown began…
A black flash tore through the sky.
A power outage.
Everything went dark.
The screens. The lights. The duel system. The track.
Panic.
Shouts. Spectators stirring.
And then… a figure emerged at the center of the field. A dark hoodie. A strange bike. Equipped with an independent red screen.
A metallic voice echoed:
— "Forget the rules. The real Cycloduel starts now."