Chapter Thirty: Yours Is Male—It Stops Working the Moment It Meets Mine, the Female One

"Well, while it’s true that Duel Monsters is a trading card game and there are indeed rules about wagering cards, I recall that you were the one who lost, Mr. Lucky?" Hayato glanced casually at the courtyard and raised his arms to stretch.

"Listen, kid, today I’m going to teach you a rule of the adult world." Lucky grinned, shaking the revolver in his hand. "The world is supposed to be reasonable, but the biggest fist is the ultimate truth."

"Your fist doesn't look that big, Mr. Lucky." Hayato raised his hand into a fist, comparing it to Lucky’s from a distance. "It looks about the same size as mine."

"Idiot, I have a gun in my hand! A gun!" Lucky was getting annoyed. This kid was maddeningly sharp one second and dim-witted the next; he was impossible to read. "A gun is the biggest fist there is."

"A gun is the biggest fist?"

Hearing this, Hayato chuckled. Without showing a hint of fear, he lifted his shirt and pulled a white object from his waistband. "As if I don't have a gun of my own."

"What the hell is that?"

Hayato looked down at it and quickly said, "Oh, sorry. It got a bit crushed when I sat down earlier. Let me just straighten it out."

He fiddled with the white object for a moment, unfolding the crumpled mess until it took the shape of the paper handgun he had folded at school.

"You idiot, are you playing with me!?"

Hayato waved his hands dismissively. "Hey, why would I play with you? I’m being very serious. My gun is special. Yours is male, and mine is female; when a male meets a female, it loses its edge."

"Nonsense! Shouldn't it be the other way around?"

"You clearly don't understand anything, Mr. Lucky."

"Understand? Understand what?"

"In this society, where can you find a gentle woman who lets a man run the house? This era celebrates individuality, and women have all awakened to their own independent thinking." Probably. Though some have taken it too far and gone into professional boxing. "In a few years, among the young couples of the next generation, there will be no shortage of henpecked husbands."

"That actually makes some sense. I've met plenty of guys who claim they aren't afraid of their wives, but the moment they get a call, they bolt home like their lives depend on it. Maybe it really is a case of the male meeting the... wait, dammit, you almost had me there! Guns aren't male or female!"

"Tch, so close."

"I heard that!"

Seeing Lucky getting agitated, Hayato quickly changed tack. "Fine, let me put it another way. Yours is a Japanese police revolver; mine is an American Smith & Wesson M1917. Yours is the son, and mine is the father. When the son sees the father, he doesn't dare make a sound."

Right, he wouldn't dare make a sound, because the son was too busy dumping sewage.

"...You, are you a lunatic?" Watching Hayato ramble on so calmly, Lucky looked at his own gun with a flicker of doubt. He wasn't entirely sure anymore—was he holding a real gun? What if he’d grabbed a toy by mistake? Why else would this kid be so unfazed?

"I'm not crazy, I'm perfectly normal," Hayato defended himself. "You probably think my pistol is fake, don't you? Stand still, and I’ll show you."

"Hmph. If that paper toy of yours can fire a bullet, I’ll take your last name." Lucky watched with contempt as Hayato raised the paper gun. He didn't fire; he just laughed, waiting to see what other tricks the boy had up his sleeve.

"Shoot, then?"

To his surprise, Hayato frowned after raising the paper gun. "I can't. Our TV is behind you. What if I hit it? I still want to watch the recording of the Duel Monsters tournament. Move to the side."

"Not only is your brain broken, but you're a real nuisance." Impatient, Lucky took a step to the side, standing in front of the glass door leading to the courtyard. "I’ll say this first, kid: if you can't fire a shot, my gun is going to open fire. And to think, I didn't even want to kill anyone when we started."

"Don't worry, Mr. Lucky."

Hayato raised the paper handgun again, pretending to take aim. Suddenly, as if remembering something, he said, "Oh, right, Mr. Kobayashi Lucky, my bank card password is 030221. Don't forget it!"

Before Lucky could react, Hayato flicked the barrel of the paper gun upward as if firing, his mouth making a "pop" sound.

*Thwip!*
*Click!*
*Thud!*

Seeing Lucky—whose attention had been entirely held by the distraction, and who had never even noticed the snipers quietly appearing on the building across the street, dying without ever knowing how—Hayato suppressed his nausea and took the deck from his hands. "You wanted to steal my cards, so it’s only fair I take your deck, right? After all, I’m under a lot of pressure too."

***

"And that’s how it happened."

Yugi and his friends gathered around Hayato’s desk, listening, mesmerized, as he recounted the events of the previous night.

"Hayato, you’re incredible," Jounouchi sighed in admiration. "To be so calm while stalling a criminal with a gun... If it were me, I would’ve been paralyzed on the floor."

Hardly, Jounouchi. You’re being too modest about your willpower; not everyone can withstand the power of the Sun God.

"And to finish such a brilliant duel under those conditions, Hayato-kun, that’s truly amazing." Yugi looked at the recreation of the match on Hayato’s desk and praised him.

Anzu, however, looked puzzled. "But, Hayato, this 'Giant Trunade' card looks different from the one we saw at Yugi’s house the day before yesterday?"

"That’s because Industrial Illusions occasionally releases Duel Monster cards with the same name but different artwork or even different effects. For example, with 'Dark Magician,' I have a black-armor version and another red-armor version," Yugi explained. "I also have a 'Magical Cylinder' with a different effect than others. I assume Hayato’s 'Giant Trunade' is the same."

"I see."

Honda nodded. "I can't believe you went through all that last night, Hayato. It’s a heart-stopping story—though the paper gun part made it a bit hard to take seriously."

"Huh? And I thought the part where I wielded the American Smith & Wesson M1917 was the climax of the story."

"It really wasn't!"

"Honda, you’re so annoying. Have you decided when you're going to confess yet?"

Honda went silent.