Dawn had risen throughout Bakugan City; the sea fog weaved through the sleepy city. Most of the streets remained silent at this hour. Yet a few early birds were up on their morning walk or setting up shop. An elderly man sat at his newspaper stand. Rugged in a green coat, his cigar glowed amber between his fingers. On his shoulder, a little Ventus Bakugan groaned in annoyance. “Geez Rex, you may be old, but I’ve learned those things are bad for you.” The man known as Rex sighed as he exhaled, “Heh, I’ve been doing em for 30 years Ramdoll, I’m nowhere near dying yet.” “Well it’s your funeral,’’ Ramdoll chuckled at his master’s ignorance. The two of them were an unlikely pair when the Bakugan started conversing on Earth. Rex was a motorcyclist in his youth, but due to his license suspension