Bakura doesn't flinch. Doesn't react at all, really, except for the slight tilt of his head, the kind of movement that might look curious if it wasn't so calculated. He stands there, perfectly still, watching Mariku with an expression that's difficult to read. Not angry. Not surprised. Just... assessing.

"Easy?" The word comes out slow, deliberate. "You mistake efficiency for ease, Mariku. They're not the same thing."

The Ring sits heavy against his chest, cold and aware. It's been that way since Mariku showed up - tense, waiting. Two bearers of Millennium Items in the same space always creates a certain charge, a recognition. Power calling to power.

Bakura shifts his weight slightly, hands loose at his sides. Relaxed. Or at least, he tries to look relaxed. But there's something coiled about the way he holds himself, ready to move if he needs to.

"You seem concerned," he continues, voice dropping lower. "Is that what this is? Worry that I might actually succeed without your... participation?" The mocking tone is subtle, but threaded through every word. "How touching." He takes a step forward. Not aggressive, not yet. Just closing the distance slightly. Testing boundaries.

"Let me clarify something for you." He states, plainly. "I don't think anything is easy. I think things are possible or improbable, and I plan accordingly." A pause. "What I don't do is underestimate."

"So no, I didn't think it would be 'that easy.'" Bakura's facial expression doesn't change, but his eyes have gone colder. "I thought it would be exactly as difficult as it was. And yet--" He spreads his hands slightly, a gesture that could mean anything. "--here we are."