2 Ground down in the Mines
The first minute is key.
In that small timeframe, everyone panics as whatever monster showed up that week picks it's prey. There's no deep reasoning behind which group it attacks first. Ronovan, as the duelist who summoned it, can influence his monster, but his audience knows that and won't let him rig the bet.
I immediately run to the back and start pulling at the torches.
"Now, who will our monster of the week, [Koa'ki Meiru Guardian], attack first!? Right now, it seems to be looking at group five!" announces a handler, his voice loud and barely clear over the clamouring of the crowd.
In essence, unless the groups do something themselves, the monster will attack randomly. But of course, no one's sitting still. Everyone's panicking and spazzing out, screaming in every language possible.
"I-it's turning to us!" yells a guy in group five, too terrified to not scream.
In the end, the loudest group, usually the biggest and most inexperienced, is first up on the chopping block. As expected, it's heading for group five. And Jay is there, stuck in the middle of the writhing bodies that are all trying to escape in separate directions, going nowhere.
Come on, come on, come on!
I finally manage to dislodge the torch, tearing off a bit of the wood around it's clamp. Grasping it tight, I turn towards the monster who's only a step away from group five now.
"Hey! Over here!" I yell, running out as far as I can with the chain keeping me back. I hear my group panic from behind me, terrified as the monster turns to look at the little human waving a torch under it's foot.
I snap at it with the torch, giving a pathetic swing with my clasped hands. It flies off my hands and hits it's hard, stone chest, doing less than nothing.
But it's attention is on me now.
"121! What the fuck are you doing?!?!" Yells the spectator who apparently bet big on me, freaking out as the stone broadsword is raised up high, ready to slam down on me and my group.
It's nearing the end of a minute, and it's now the critical moment. The gambit that decides if you'll live or not—
Now!
The moment the broadsword twitches at it's peak, I jump with all my might to the side and pull my chain taunt, letting the sword slam down. In the ensuing dust and screaming, it takes me a second to realize I successfully dodged, surviving the gambit once again.
Alright! I think, picking myself up and running off with a bit of broken chain dangling from my cuffs. Peeking back at group one, I can see that a few others on the sides also made it out.
The rest have turned to paste. I don't let myself think on it any more than that.
"Shit, 121! Nearly gave me a heart attack, you bastard!" says that same guy. Guess this is his first time actually seeing me in the arena.
Now, it's a game of cat and mouse. This 'game' lasts eight minutes, so I just have to survive until then. That's 480 seconds, the exact length of the master-duel turn timer.
I peek at the giant hourglass they've hanged at the top of the pit for the spectators to see. I can't discern it well, looking at it from below, but I can see the sand hasn't even filled the bottom yet.
Every time I go through this, it's the longest eight minutes of my life. You think Drytron turns are long? You think Tearalament mirrors take years off your life? You think card games are monetized gambling? We'll see if you can say the same things after one round here.
"Hey! Over here!" I hear from group three. It seems like they're trying the same thing. "Just come try and swing at us, big guy!" That won't turn out well with just five people.
The monster looks over, standing over the crushed corpses of group two, all dead.
Lifting it's blood-stained broardsword from the sand, it heaves one foot forward, releasing a puff of dust, then brings it's arm back—
Oh no.
"DUCK!" I yell out at the peak of my lungs, diving into the sand. A second after, the monster makes a screeching, wide diagonal arc with it's sword, cutting all if group three and some of group four in half. It leaves behind a thin scratch that stretches across half the arena walls, accentuated with blood splatters.
"NOOOO! MY BET!!!"
"FUUUUCK!"
"Ha. Losers. Come on group two! You've—WAIT THEY'RE ALL DEAD?!?! I was gone for less than a minute!"
"Come on, group one! Give me this upset!"
I ignore the spectators grieving for their money and look up. The bottom of the hourglass is filled, but I can't tell more than that.
He's coming around again.
Get up, get up, get up!
I struggle with my footing for a moment, but I find myself on two feet just in time to jump, tucking in my feet to avoid another sideways swing that would've cut my legs in half.
Keep moving! You can't stop!
Breaking into a breathless run, I dash and slide under the giant's legs, narrowly dodging another slash. The force kicks up a mount of sand, getting into my eyes on the way. Swatting at my face, I run blind for a moment as I rub my eyes with restless, uncoordinated hands.
After managing to pry them open, I immediately scout the arena—group one has a three people, including me, running around with broken chains, while group two and group three are all dead, either crushed into paste or cut in two. Group four has one guy left, but his chain is still attached to the corpses of his group, weighing him down. Finally, group five has a miraculous seven people alive.
But that won't last long. With such a big group, they'll catch the monster's attention soon enough.
When that moment comes...
I look up at the hourglass, trying uselessly to find an angle where I can see it's side. There's just not enough room down here, which is something I learned during my first run in the arena. There's no reason anything's changed between then and now.
What do I do?
I'm not crazy enough to keep attracting the monster's attention. Just because I'm healthier than most doesn't mean I can risk any more swings, and I'm not selfless enough to take that risk for people I barely know. I'll accept the entirety of group five dying if it means my friend survives.
At the very least, I need Jay to get out of the middle. Squeezed in the middle like that, there's no way he can dodge out of the way.
I should've told him that at the beginning!
I quickly burying that mistake and move on. I don't think he can hear me through the increasing clamour and screaming, not to mention I might attract the monster's attention if I yell now. Plus, he's probably dazed from all the adrenaline right now. But if I can accept sacrifices, what I can do is...
The monster is heaving towards the last member of group four, fruitlessly trying to run with three corpses tied to his chains. I need to act now, while it's still occupied.
I scout around for another torch, one that's been broken free from the sword swings. I see one that has been crushed into useless splinters, but right next to it is one that's embedded into the sand, it's clamped end cut off. I dash and pick up the torch, finding no embers remaining on the cloth. I see the monster approaching group five, coming over with a sword that's been splattered with the blood of one more person.
Hurry, hurry, hurry!
I run up behind the running group five and, lifting my stick high, swing it down on a guy's neck. He's immediately knocked out of balance, falling to the sand. The sudden movement pulls back the entire group slightly, giving me the time to squeeze past another guy and reach Jay. I step up next to him and stick a foot out, tripping up the guy in front of him. He crashes into the guy in front of him, causing a chain reaction that makes the front half of the group fall.
I grab Jay by the wrist, dragging him as far from the pile as his chain will let him. We don't get too far, but this is enough.
The monster is here.
Between a pile of six people lying immobile on the ground and two people on their feet... well, I'm not sure if this monster has anything akin to intelligence, but it certainly has an instinct for slaughter. Or maybe it's been given simple instructions like "kill as many as possible."
Or maybe it's had a lot of experience.
So, the choice becomes obvious. It raises it's broadsword once again, adorned with dripping blood, and set it's beady, lifeless eyes on the group—
that's running away.
Here it comes!
Like I said, it's a machine of slaughter. These things kill nearly the whole group every time, and if it had just one more minute I bet it could kill every single group consistently. It's got a double, maybe triple-digit kill count with that same sword.
Instead of swinging down, it brings it slightly to the side and heaves, clearly prepared for a wide swing with both the down group five and us in it's sights. We can't run away any further because of the chain.
It's time for our final gamble.
"Jay, stick close and copy what I do." I say, making sure we each have a decent amount of space. "Don't look, just feel what I do and go along. Prepare to either jump or duck." I say, grabbing his arm. He doesn't respond and just stares forward blankly.
"If you don't jump or duck, I'll end up dead too."
He still doesn't respond, but his breathing becomes a little more strained and he leans forward slightly. Good.
It's going to swing low so it can catch all the group five guys low to the ground, but after that, as it's coming at us, it can either keep going low, or twist upwards and try to catch a jump.
Don't think, feel—No, feel and think.
Jump, or duck? High, or low?
The sword reaches an apex, the monster twists it's foot, and suddenly it turns into a hulking, moving mass of stone destruction—
Low!
I leap up and pull my legs while tugging on Jay's arm. Following the sensation on his arm, Jay also instinctively jumps, trying to get high enough off the ground—
...
...I see it in slow motion.
The hulking mass of marble, the monster of stone, and the broadsword that's swinging at us—I feel it all in slow motion.
I've only felt this odd sensation once before, and it was when—back then, too, it was like—back then, before all this—this same slow, creeping sensation—back in my old world, when I was—was, and is again now—
I felt it the moment I was about to die.
It's coming high. It's going to catch my jump. It's going to kill—
Suddenly, I jerk and tilt midway through my jump, going much lower than I was trying to. It's Jay. He tried to jump, but in his panic he fell back instead.
Still holding onto Jay's arm, I'm dragged back by his fall, tilting and falling less than halfway through my jump. The sword approaches, screeching towards me, ready to cut me in half—
With all my power, I flick my head back, trying to get as low as possible. It's coming, it's here, it's now—
A white blur grazes the space centimeters in front of me, giving me an extremely close-up view of the blood already starting to dry in some places, before it skirts past my head and crashes into the wall, leaving another gash.
I fall to the sand floor painfully, and for a moment I forget to breath as if I couldn't realize I was alive. I heave and sweat and try to breathe and tremble, and—
"AND THAT'S TIME!"
I barely have the space of mind to notice the monster fading into a dark orange light, losing form and darting up to the card held up by Ronovan.
"That's eight minutes, ladies and gentlemen! It seems we have our lucky survivors for this week!"
"One from group five, the newcomer 212! And three from group one, the numbers 310, 116, and the familiar face with an unfamiliar scar, 121!"
"LET"S GO GROUP ONE! I knew you guys where my lucky horse—er, group!"
"FUCK, EVEN GROUP FIVE SURVIVED! What is this shit? It's gotta be rigged!"
"Dude, what the fuck happened to your so-called 'smaller group' meta! They're all dead! The biggest groups won!"
The spectators freak out, and the two others that also survived collapse onto the floor. Jay just looks up at the ceiling, his eyes halfway past his eyelids.
And me?
I didn't even hear the horn...
I can still hear my heart beat out of my chest, my ears ringing as if the whole world is being distorted and twisted.
At this moment, I can't help but think I'm actually dead, and this is hell.
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We hobble back to our cell with scratches and sprains, the guards snickering the whole time as they see us past the steel bars.
"Nice show today." says the guard as he kicks me into the cell. "You won me big, 121. Show up next time too, alright?"
"Yo, 212! Look up, brat, it's your home!" says the other guard, throwing Jay. "Nice debut at the arena. Next time, why don't you piss your pants just to make it more entertaining? The arena's nicer than the toilets you have here, anyway!"
Quipping and laughing the whole time, it almost feels like freedom once they lock the cell doors head off on patrol.
"...Jay, you awake?"
He doesn't respond and just stares at me through dried tears. He curls up on the ground, digging his face into his knees and chest.
"At least get on the bed." I say, forcefully grabbing his hand and dragging him up, lightly pushing him towards the bed. It may be as hard as the floor, but at least it's not as jagged and unsanitary.
Again, he doesn't respond, just collapsing onto the bed and curling up into a ball.
Maybe seeing me alive and decently well after multiple rounds in the arena gave him a false impression. It's not a place you normally come back from, and most survivors end up like Jay here.
Above all the horrible treatment, gruelling work and abuse by the handlers, it's the arena that truly makes you understand we'll all die here. Another slave said that to me before going for his second round in the arena. He didn't come back.
After realizing the cruel truth, and facing that same hopeless terror again, how could you possibly muster the strength to survive another round in the arena?
There are four exceptions, people that are known as 'regulars' in the arena. There's two in group one, me and 116, who was among the survivors today. He was apparently part of a big-time criminal gang before getting caught, and he's seen enough death to grit past it and survive. The other two is in group four. One's a former soldier, 89, who's survived the longest, and the other is 177, who was apparently a duelist before.
All the regulars, except me, have some experience with life-threatening situations, and that's what gives them the quick thinking and cool-headedness to survive. I like to think I'm quick on my feet, and I am healthier than most others here, but I don't have that same experience. In that case, how can I keep surviving these visits to the arena?
Because I have one thing that no one else here has. Hope.
Every day I brave the arena is another step taken towards freedom. It's not an inescapable punishment, but an obstacle to my escape.
And the one thing that's giving me hope is—
"...Open Menu."
A light-blue, transparent screen manifests in front of my eyes, emitting a soft glow that only I can see. A bar of menu options sorted vertically fills the side of my view, and I raise my finger to tap on one of them. To anyone else, I look like a schizophrenic playing with air.
Responding to my touch, a second, square screen appears, filling most of my view. I press another option, and a third bar appears above, this one with horizontal words on it.
I read the words that have been giving me hope all this time.
______________________________________________
{Quest: First Steps}
{Quest Type}: Master Quest
{Objective}: Assemble a Yugioh Deck.
{Condition}: The Deck must be playable in sanctioned duels, therefore following the restrictions laid out below:
#The Deck must have a minimum of 40 cards, with no more than 3 copies of each card. See the Rules tab for more details.
#The Deck cannot have any banned cards. See the Banned & Limited tab for more details.
{Reward}:
SYSTEM FUNCTION: Crafting
SYSTEM FUNCTION: Monster Summoning
SYSTEM FUNCTION: Daily Quests
#Details on each system function will be added to the Help tab upon acquisition.
______________________________________________
And below this notice, a much larger screen is spread out before me, spanning most of my view. And right near the top is the area my attention is glued to, something I can't look away from.
______________________________________________
Quest Progress: 39/40
______________________________________________
Main Deck : 39
Extra Deck : 1
______________________________________________
If I can summon Yugioh Monsters like Ronovan can, and if I can craft any monster with the crafting system, then...
"...Just a few more."
I see the [Millennium Golem] I obtained today taunting me from the very edge of the deck, making the empty space next to it painfully and tantalizingly apparent.
I don't know how the crafting system will work, but I'm guessing it'll be like Master Duel. The UI is nearly identical, and the message I got upon opening the system for the first time was "Welcome to the Master Duel System!"
If so, I can craft any card by dismantling three cards of equal rarity. None of the cards I have right now are that amazing and they're mostly Normal and Rare rarity, but if I can get 42 cards, then I dismantle three, craft one, and still have 40 cards. And with that craft, I can make a card to get me out of here.
After looking through the card pool in my downtime, I've found the perfect card:
(R) [Minefieldriller] [4] [ATK: 1500] [DEF: 1500]
A rare monster that's literally a drill machine. It looks like something out of Journey to the Center of the Earth.
This is my hope, the one thing that's keeping me going. The thing that makes me brave the arena so frequently, the thing that makes me ignore quota and keep funnelling every card I find into here.
The quota per week is five cards, and if you don't get at least that amount, unless you have a high-rarity or foiled card, you're thrown into the arena. There's no way I can get out if I keep giving up cards for the quota. I've only gotten more than five cards in a week twice before, and some weeks I don't even get that.
The longer I stay, the more likely I'll just die from disease or something. If that's the case, I'll brave the arena while I'm still decently healthy, and get out sooner. I'll bring Jay with me, too.
If I can be honest, I don't think I can handle one more round in the Arena. But that's fine.
"...Just three more."
Because I just need three more. I just need to get three more cards this week. That's not hard. That's doable.
"Three. More."
Just three more cards... until my freedom.
