Chapter 8: Dumpster Dice Monsters

By the time Seto got back to the suite for a proper shower, Joan was no longer there. "Roland, where is my whore?"

"She walked to the Millbrae transit center, sir."

"She what?" Seto didn't know how close the train station was to the Hyatt, but as far as he knew, no whores simply walked out of Kaiba Manor back in Japan.

"She said not to bother with the limo."

"Book her again."

"Yes, sir." Roland had not been blind to his boss' transformation. For one thing, he'd never known Seto to sleep in, much less in the same bed as a whore. Seto didn't want them to get clingy. He'd occasionally ask for "one of the good ones" to be brought to his mansion in Japan, but he never had anyone in particular in mind. Roland kept a list of those who seemed to put Seto in a good mood for such occasions.

When Seto returned to the suite for the evening, he was disappointed to find no prostitute but also too exhausted to chastise Roland about it. He dropped off to sleep immediately after ensuring that his alarm was set properly.

Tuesday morning greeted Seto with delayed onset muscle soreness. Pain tore through his limbs as he showered, reminding him how he'd slacked off on his exercise routine for the past several months in order to spend more time working. Seto endured the day's Summit activities and once again turned in for an early night.

By Wednesday, Seto still felt some lingering soreness, but most of it had passed. Moments after he seated himself for breakfast in the banquet hall, a man with riotous black hair and emerald green eyes bordered by heavy eyeliner plunked his loaded plate and glass of orange juice down on the white tablecloth. He plopped into the seat next to Seto. "Hey man, remember me? It's been a few years," the newcomer opened.

Seto examined the face and drew a blank until a dangling six-sided die caught his attention. "Devlin. Dumpster Dice Monsters, was it?"

"That's Dungeon Dice Monsters," Duke Devlin corrected.

"Whatever." Seto chewed a piece of salty ham and washed it down with a swig of water. He knew he had to increase his protein intake before he could keep up with her, but the Hyatt's buffet selection paled in comparison to the filet mignon with foie gras sauce that his personal chef, who had been granted vacation time during his trip, prepared.

Duke waved a potato-laden fork. "What's with the attitude, man? After that speech, everyone was saying you'd changed, but it looks like all you did was learn how to lie."

Seto sighed. "Old habits die hard. What do you want, Devlin?"

"Since you put it so nicely, I rented out the hottest night club in Oakland tonight. It's going to be a mixer for game devs only. My personal assistant is compiling the guest list, but after that compelling speech, I wanted to reach out to you personally."

"How touching," Seto said flatly. "Roland, what does my schedule look like tonight?"

"Open, sir," Roland replied.

Seto whipped around to face his bodyguard. "You were supposed to book that whore," he hissed.

"I did, for tomorrow night. It was her earliest opening."

Duke snickered.

"What's so funny?" Seto demanded.

"Tell me Kaiba, have you ever once picked up a normal babe? You know, through your own charm?"

"You mean a gold digger? No thanks. I'd rather get what I want from a woman than play months of mind games over an unfulfilled promise of sex."

"I've never had that problem," Duke goaded, "I don't think you have it in you."

Seto glared but remained silent. Duke could boast all he wanted, but Seto suspected that Duke had wasted time on more than a few broads.

"You know what? I just realized there are going to be too many guys at this party. I'll have my personal assistant dig around for some local chicks. Maybe pick up some hot Twitch streamers. You'll see. The place will be hopping!"

"Fine, I'll check it out, but I'm not picking up any gold diggers."

Duke smiled. "Great! See you there." He patted Seto on the back, picked up his plate and glass of orange juice, and then proceeded on to the next high-profile game developer he spotted.