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This page is a chapter in Book The Lost Chronicles
While reclining on a hefty boulder, Seto Vacca contemplated, "Ever since losing to that dork Joey, I feel different inside, like I don’t duel the way I used to."

Seto abruptly bounded to his feet, disgruntled. "I can’t sleep. I must get off this island. Everything here is just as useless as that Millennium Item shaped rock over there." Upon more intimate inspection, "Wait a minute… there’s a Millennium Item behind that rock!"

Seto dove to the spot behind the oddly shaped rock, but it thrust into his gelatinous belly. Seto tumbled into a shallow riverbed, animal feces and island shrubbery tearing at his blubbery bosom. Seto groaned as his bones clunked against the stone studded trough and felt the obnoxious discomfort under his bloated bottom.

"What the hell is this?" He reached into the pelvic orifice and produced the object of his discontentment. "It's a hat…" Seto sorely uncrumpled to an upright position, examining the hat.

"Hey, that’s my hat!" A finger pointed from the darkness above the riverbed.

Straining to see the stranger's face, Seto declared, "Is not; I found it first," and pulled the hat down on his head. The visor protruded menacingly from his forehead. The seams fit snugly, smoothing his dark paintbrush hair around the circumference. Golden ancient Chinese text suddenly blazed at the base of the visor, an ornate conflagrating dragon swathed the silky black fabric, sparks trickling.

"That is my hat. I've guarded it for thousands of years." The figure gestured with its arms as it spoke, as if to demonstrate the timeline...

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