Kazuki Takahashi shakes his head. “Here’s the problem with Ash not being a jobber: it’s only in the context of a pity win in Alola and Galar, not the overall narrative. Yugi isn't just a third rate duelist with a fourth rate deck. He understands the mechanics of fighting, of real endurance. It’s not ‘the heart of the cards’; it’s how you use it. A Pharaoh learns how to adapt to every situation, every new power. You can’t just hope that your wall level feats can beat an opponent who’s not relying on some basic 18 way RPS game to survive.”

“And that’s the key difference,” he adds, sitting back and letting the thought settle. “Dueling is a metaphor. Yugi's power and monsters? They're real. And when you strip away the Pokeballs and the speeches about 'P-Pokemon are totally not slaves!', what’s left? A king of the games who’s gone toe-to-toe with threats beyond anything Ash could imagine.”

Now he’s on a roll. “Yugi Muto doesn’t get tired. He doesn’t wear down. He doesn’t rely on teammates to win. He’s been up against the hardest, most unforgiving fights imaginable. So when Ash's plot armor eventually burns out — when his opponent stops staring slackjawed — when he's transported back to the time he got beaten by Alain and Tobias — Yugi keeps going. And when it’s all said and done, Yugi draws Exodia and wins.”

Takahashi pauses, giving me a moment to process the weight of his argument, and then, with a grin, leans back in his chair, arms crossed in triumph.

“Boom. Done.”

Kazuki Takahashi shakes his head. “Here’s the problem with Ash not being a jobber: it’s only in the context of a pity win in Alola and Galar, not the overall narrative. Yugi isn't just a third rate duelist with a fourth rate deck. He understands the mechanics of fighting, of real endurance. It’s not ‘the heart of the cards’; it’s how you use it. A Pharaoh learns how to adapt to every situation, every new power. You can’t just hope that your wall level feats can beat an opponent who’s not relying on some basic 18 way RPS game to survive.”

“And that’s the key difference,” he adds, sitting back and letting the thought settle. “Dueling is a metaphor. Yugi's power and monsters? They're real. And when you strip away the Pokeballs and the speeches about 'P-Pokemon are totally not slaves!', what’s left? A king of the games who’s gone toe-to-toe with threats beyond anything Ash could imagine.”

Now he’s on a roll. “Yugi Muto doesn’t get tired. He doesn’t wear down. He doesn’t rely on teammates to win. He’s been up against the hardest, most unforgiving fights imaginable. So when Ash's plot armor eventually burns out — when his opponent stops staring slackjawed — when he's transported back to the time he got beaten by Alain and Tobias - Yugi keeps going. And when it’s all said and done, Yugi draws Exodia and wins.”

Takahashi pauses, giving me a moment to process the weight of his argument, and then, with a grin, leans back in his chair, arms crossed in triumph.

“Boom. Done.”