Inside the prison, inmates were busy cleaning.

Two guards watched Su Hong, whispering in awe.

“Has he gone mad? Ever since we gave him those things, he hasn’t rested at all.”

“The casino boss said he’s acting weird. Slept only about thirty minutes last night, muttering stuff like ‘a piece of cake’ over and over.”

“Huh? How would the casino boss know that? Was he peeping the whole time? He’s creepier than Su Hong! Is he gay?”

“Whether the boss is creepy doesn’t matter. But Su Hong? If he stays like this, fine. But what if he gets upset about something? You think your body’s tougher than these walls?!”

“Shh! Keep it down—he might hear us…”

Su Hong had long heard their whispers. He simply didn’t care.

Lia once said powerful Spirit Glyphsmiths could control luck.

Too bad this town barely had decent Spirit Glyphsmiths—let alone powerful ones.

Even the warden’s beginner Spirit Glyphsmith kit mentioned nothing about controlling luck.

Instead, Su Hong had already mastered all basics of becoming a novice Glyphsmith.

With materials, he was certain replicating Lia’s exact Frostlight Blade Spirit Card would be a piece of cake.

But what truly intrigued him: Spirit Cards had advertising tech!

They could compress mental images and sounds right into the card.

Most used it for shop signs or letters—but Su Hong had a fresh idea.

Spirit Card Cinema! Share the anime he’d watched with this joy-starved world!

Becoming a great Glyphsmith took steps anyway. Sharpening the axe doesn’t delay chopping wood.

He acted on the thought. Left hand became inkstone; right hand unrolled a blank Spirit Card.

Brass-colored ink spread. Brush tip dipped full.

Just then, as the entire prison fell silent watching him, Lia stepped in—sky-blue dress flowing.

“Huh? What’s happening?”

A guard shushed her, jerking his chin toward Su Hong’s cell.

Curious, Lia peered inside—and froze.

“He’s… crafting a Spirit Card? Only been two days!”

The guard waved urgently for quiet. “Keep your voice down. Don’t disturb him. If he fails, he might blame us.”

“How do you know he’ll fail?” Lia frowned.

The guard shrugged helplessly.

“Lia, Su Hong’s a strong Spirit Cardmaster—I know you admire him. But Glyphsmithing? Totally different level.”

He sighed. “I once dreamed of becoming one too. Studied a full month… couldn’t even cross the threshold. Sure, card success depends on luck—but first you must *be* a Glyphsmith. Random scribbles don’t even get a luck check.”

Lia bristled. “How do you know it’s scribbling?”

“Two and a half days! Who masters Glyphsmithing that fast? Longer inscriptions mean stronger cards—but higher failure risk. Beginners make ten-second ad cards. How long’s he been writing?”

“Five minutes?” Lia guessed.

The guard scoffed. “Since *you* arrived. He’d already been inscribing nearly an hour! This card can’t succeed. Not him after two days—not any Glyphsmith in town!”

The words barely left his mouth when Su Hong set down his brush.

The guard stared at the silent card, shaking his head.

“See? No glow. White means success. Red means failure. His? Nothing.”

Just as Lia felt a pang of pity—the card shuddered violently!

A blinding white light buzzed, flooding the cell! Even the table thumped rhythmically beneath it!

“Argh—my eyes! Holy crap, my eyes!”

The unprepared guard wailed, tears streaming from stinging eyes.

Lia’s vision blurred too—but her near-Cardmaster reflexes made her cover her eyes instantly.

Only after the groans faded did she part a finger to peek.

The light had vanished. Su Hong casually twirled a Spirit Card.

“Lia, perfect timing. Got a Spirit Card Slot? Check out my new Spirit Card Cinema.”

“Eh? Spirit Card Ci… Crazy Eagle? Some beast?”

Lia stepped around the flushed guard still sprawled on the floor and approached curiously.

Su Hong smiled mysteriously. “Not Crazy Eagle—*cinema*. Animation. Title: *Magical Girl Monkey Burn Madoka*! Only episodes one to three… but enough to enjoy awhile.”