Who Let Him Play Yugioh? (Re-Upload)

”Gladiator Beasts?”

Kira’s eyes lit up.

Had he heard of that deck? Of course he had. What kind of veteran Yu-Gi-Oh player wouldn’t?

For Kira it was especially memorable.

The sudden rise of Gladiator Beasts was a landmark in the game’s meta evolution. For players like Kira who lived through that era, there was a name that evokes trauma: Gyzarus.

Not Cyber Dragon from GX, but the ace that singlehandedly elevated the deck’s power tier—Gladiator Beast Gyzarus.

Fusion requirement: Gladiator Beast Bestiari plus any ”Gladiator Beast” monster. It could be special summoned from the Extra Deck by returning monsters on your field to the Deck—no Polymerization required. Similar to Neo-Spacian contact fusion.

On special summon, it could destroy up to two cards on the field. After it battled, at the end of the Battle Phase, it returned to the Extra Deck and special summoned any two Gladiator Beasts from the Deck except Bestiari.

Blowing up two cards on entry was considered overtuned at release. But that wasn’t the key.

The key was: it’s a Fusion monster.

Gladiator Beasts continually search and tag in new monsters as battles proceed. Every Gladiator Beast shares the effect: after it battles, at the end of the Battle Phase, it returns to the Deck and special summons any Gladiator Beast from the Deck.

Thus, the deck’s core is to leverage battle plus search—a system ahead of its time—to build advantage, which also makes assembling Gyzarus’s materials trivial.

Gyzarus pops two on entry, and being in the Extra means you don’t have to draw it—it’s always online. Now that seems normal, but in that era it was a huge edge over other ”boss” win-cons.

Back then, top decks like Dark Armed Dragon and Monarchs still needed you to draw into your boss first.

But Gyzarus didn’t. As long as you had any two Gladiator Beasts in Deck and could establish ”successful battle” to trigger GB tagging, you could easily fetch Bestiari and fuse into Gyzarus.

Oh, and by the way, Bestiari itself, when special summoned by a GB effect, pops a spell/trap. So summoning into Gyzarus often meant effectively removing three cards.

Add that Gyzarus, upon leaving, summoned any two GBs from Deck, and the deck effortlessly opened a card-advantage gap.

It naturally took the world championship. Gladiator Beasts were the last world champions before the Synchro era—arguably the apex of pre-Master Rule old-school decks.

”There’s such a deck?”

Kira was tempted. But he then recalled he’d tracked early top decks, especially world champions—yet he’d never heard of Gladiator Beasts here.

”It’s normal you haven’t,” Yako smiled.

”Until now, we only found mentions in documents, enough to confirm their existence. Our teams spent many years tracking more clues.”

”And now you’ve found them?” Kira asked.

”Indeed,” Yako said. ”At a European ruin, after all these years, we finally found the tablets that house those ancient, powerful warriors.”

He slid a stack of files across the table to Kira and Mokuba.

”These compile what we dug up from the site and what we retrieved from various historical texts.”

They took them and skimmed.

”Ancient Roman Empire,” Mokuba raised a brow. ”The Romans dueled too?”

Kira flipped in silence, thinking: why am I not surprised?

In this world, how could ancient Rome have ruled without dueling?

Or rather, so Gladiator Beasts were theirs. No wonder the empire was that strong.

Conquering the world with a champion deck—who could compete?

”The texts don’t say it explicitly, but our researchers speculate Gladiator Beasts might have been the emperor’s exclusive deck, its imagery mirroring Roman arenas.

”Low-level monsters are gladiators and enslaved beasts; higher-ups and fusions are famed rulers of the empire.

”The tablets seal the strongest warriors of the Colosseum at its zenith—born for battle. As the empire declined, the gladiator games faded.

”And the warriors of former glory were sealed along with their beloved arena.”

Kira flipped quickly and asked, ”Where are these tablets now?”

”I knew you’d be interested,” Yako smiled.

”They’re still in Europe, stored at our branch, undergoing further testing.

”You know many unearthed items are dangerous—sometimes ancient demons, sometimes malevolent spirits, sometimes grudges millennia old, or each object carrying a curse…”

”I understand,” Kira nodded.

The world of cards is vast, and so are its dangers—especially archaeology, a party-wipe engine if there ever was one.

”Don’t worry—once initial tests clear, we’ll ship them to HQ in two days,” Yako said.

”We’ve signed a joint development agreement with KaibaCorp on the Gladiator tablets. If you’re willing to advise, all the better.”

”Alright,” Kira agreed readily.

At last, another champion deck.

No way he’d miss it.

…

…

Sartorius slowly flipped another tarot card.

He saw it, pondered for two seconds, then suddenly roared and flipped the table.

”Why… won’t you docilely accept your fate!?”

One after another, the same thing. All at once, it felt like every piece on his board had grown a will of its own.

He’d worked so long, felt the key moment approaching—yet things were derailing like a runaway train, slipping out of his control.

At that moment—

”Who!?”

Sartorius frowned and spun around.

Then froze.

His pupils shrank—as if he saw… light.

”You’re…!?”