The Duelist Exterminator emerged from the museum district, moving with the steady, deliberate rhythm of a man who had just walked away from the edge of death. The alleyways of Domino were quieter now, and the night wrapped around the city like a burial shroud. Rain had fallen earlier, leaving dark puddles and a metallic scent in the air. His boots splashed lightly against the pavement as he passed beneath dim streetlamps that buzzed and flickered like dying stars.
His coat clung to him, heavy with more than moisture. Every inch of fabric felt soaked in memory, in guilt, and in quiet rage. The Millennium Puzzle—still swaddled in its velvet cloth—rested in his gloved hand like a weight far greater than gold. His face was pale, drawn tight around his cheeks, and a thin tremor traveled through his fingers. Whether from exhaustion or something deeper, even he couldn't say.
Ahead, hidden in the remains of a long-abandoned subway line, stood the door. A rusted relic in the wall, sealed not with locks but with secrecy. The kind of place only men like him ever found. Ghosts. Weapons. Shadows with faces.
He pushed the door open.
The corridor beyond was jarringly pristine. Fluorescent lights flooded the passage in sterile white, reflecting off polished tile and steel beams that hummed with quiet, mechanical life. The scent of antiseptic clung to everything, burning his lungs as he stepped forward.
Jason looked like he'd stepped out of another time. His white lab coat was spotless, almost glowing under the cold lights. Silver hair swept neatly back, combed with military precision. His glasses caught the light in such a way that his eyes remained obscured—mirrors of a soul he didn't want the world to see. He stood with the rigid posture of a commander at war, one hand tucked into his coat as if guarding a secret weapon.
Seated behind him, elevated slightly on a metal dais, were two figures the Exterminator recognized at once.
Marik Ishtar, his black hair cascading over his shoulders, eyes narrowed and glittering with cruel delight.
Beside him, towering and silent, stood Odion, his arms folded across his broad chest, the look of eternal vigilance in his hardened face.
The Duelist Exterminator stopped five paces away.
His breath was ragged, chest rising and falling as though every breath was paid for in blood. Still, his presence was imposing. Measured. Grim.
He unwrapped a corner of the velvet cloth.
A gleam of gold shone from within.
Jason's breath hitched.
The Millennium Puzzle.
Even with only an edge revealed, its divine presence filled the corridor like an unseen force pressing down on the air.
"I take it," Jason said, his voice as dry and brittle as dust, "that the mission was successful?"
The Exterminator gave a slight nod. His voice, when it came, was hoarse, yet firm.
"Yugi Muto is dead," he said. "As instructed."
Marik's face lit with something rare—genuine joy. A cruel grin split across his face as he leaned forward, his violet eyes gleaming with satisfaction.
"So… the Pharaoh is gone," Marik whispered. "Finally… my father is avenged."
Odion's eyes remained fixed forward, unmoving, but the muscles in his jaw tightened just slightly.
Jason, however, blinked once behind his glasses. Then smiled.
But it wasn't a smile of pride or pleasure. It was calculated—stretched tight across his lips like fabric over broken glass. The lines around his mouth trembled faintly, betraying a tension that hadn't been there before.
Because deep down… he hadn't expected this.
I sent him to his death, Jason thought. I thought Yugi would defeat him. That it would be his death.
But now, this man—this monster—stood before him. Alive. And worse, victorious. He had done the impossible.
Jason's heart pounded behind his ribs like a warning bell.
He changed fate, Jason realized. He killed the Pharaoh.
His fingers twitched inside his coat. Suddenly, he didn't feel so untouchable.
With the Pharaoh dead… I guess I no longer need Bakura, Jason thought grimly.
He forced a calm breath and asked, "I assume there were complications?"
The Exterminator let out a dry chuckle, though his expression didn't change.
"There always are," he replied. "But it's done. You have what you wanted."
He stepped forward and placed the wrapped Puzzle on the steel table between them. The moment it touched the surface, a deep hum vibrated through the metal. As though the artifact still breathed.
Jason stared at it.
As if it might awaken or explode.
"A divine artifact in my possession," he whispered. "The very heart of the Pharaoh's soul."
Marik's eyes flicked to the Puzzle, dark with hunger. His fingers twitched near his Duel Disk.
But the Exterminator turned away.
"I'm done," he said, walking toward the corridor exit. "You don't need me anymore."
Jason's smile stayed frozen, but his voice sharpened like a blade being drawn.
"Actually… I do."
The Exterminator stopped.
Slowly turned.
His eyes narrowed like slits of steel.
Jason slipped his hand from his coat and produced a small remote. A green LED light blinked on its surface.
"You've come a long way," Jason said. "I admire that. Really, I do. But you don't get to walk away."
The Exterminator took a step back toward the table, his shoulders rising, nostrils flaring.
"We had a deal."
Jason chuckled. "No. We had an understanding. You complete the mission, and I'm changing the deal."
He pressed a button on the remote.
Behind him, a monitor came to life. Grainy security footage appeared—an overhead camera showing a modest rural home. On the porch, a boy sat cross-legged, sketching in a notebook.
Bastion.
The Exterminator froze.
His eyes widened. Pain etched into his features.
Jason smiled coldly. "Your grandson is quite the artist," he said. "Very talented. Very obedient. Of course, he has no idea. The operation we performed saved his life. But you know how surgery works… one wrong pill, one careless scalpel…"
The Exterminator's fist clenched so hard his glove creaked.
Jason's eyes flashed with malice. "You thought you could vanish? You thought I wouldn't take precautions? I gave your grandson his life. I own yours."
Marik watched with interest. Odion's gaze darkened subtly.
The Exterminator stepped forward, fury coiling behind his voice.
"You're bluffing."
Jason leaned closer. "Try me."
The Exterminator's jaw quivered. For a moment, something broke behind his eyes.
Bastion. The boy who still believed his grandfather was just a distant, traveling scholar. The one person left who mattered. The only soul untouched by blood.
Jason stepped forward, voice like poison in water.
"I want you in the Battle City finals. Publicly. You'll win. You'll make a spectacle of it. And when you reach the end…"
He leaned closer, lips inches away.
"…you'll face me."
The Exterminator blinked.
Jason's smile grew.
"You want to kill me?" Jason asked. "Then earn it. Let the world see. Let them watch you crawl through the ashes."
The Exterminator's voice cracked as he whispered, "You're going to regret betraying me, Brother."
Jason's glasses gleamed.
"I doubt that."
Behind them, Odion's expression finally faltered. His brow furrowed. A small crease appeared between his brows—a signal of disgust, subtle but real.
He would threaten his own grand-nephew, Odion thought. To use his own brother as a pawn…
He remained silent, but the thought burned deep.
This man will betray us all.
The silence was suffocating. The Duelist Exterminator stood there, chest rising and falling in slow, seething rage.
"I'll enter the finals," he said, his voice sharp as frost. "But when I win… I'll kill you with my own hands."
Jason didn't flinch.
"Of course," he said softly. "It's only fair."
The Exterminator turned and strode down the corridor, trench coat flowing behind him. His steps were heavy, purposeful. His heart thundered like war drums inside his chest.
Jason waited until the footsteps faded.
Then he turned to Marik, who had been watching with an expression of mild amusement.
"What do you think?" Jason asked.
Marik folded his arms. His grin was calm, cruel. "He'll fight like a demon. You've guaranteed it."
Jason tapped the Puzzle on the table.
"If he dies before he reaches me," Jason said with a shrug, "then my problem solves itself."
Marik stepped forward. Slowly. His hand reached down and he picked up the Millennium Puzzle.
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