Ley collapsed to his knees, utterly dejected, while Tidris stood straight before him.

The scene looked like a subject bowing to their sovereign—finally confirming to the audience below: they hadn’t imagined it.

Ley had lost.

Of course, Tidelys wasn’t standing there to mock him. She simply couldn’t believe what had happened.

Only when Atris gave her a nod did she snap out of her shock.

“Yes!”

Tidelys leaped into the air with all her might, releasing a burst of pure joy.

She’d won the practical exam! No expulsion!

After declaring victory, Atris stepped forward with a smile.

“Congratulations, student Tidris.”

Still swimming in euphoria, Tidris’s voice rose a few pitches without her noticing.

“Thank you, teacher! I’ll repay your money as soon as I can!”

“No rush. Savor this victory.”

Atris waved lightly and headed toward the stairs. “I’m leaving now—stay a moment longer and I won’t escape.”

“Eh?”

Tidelys hadn’t grasped her meaning yet. But the moment the duel barrier vanished, she understood.

The arena had erupted.

“Miss Ursula! Where did you buy that card?!”

“Tidris! Whose masterpiece is that ‘Counter Spell’?!”

Ugh… So many people…

Staring at the swaying sea of bodies, Tidelys—who hadn’t flinched during the duel—felt her head spin.

When had the stands been swallowed by the crowd? Some were earlier spectators; most had rushed over upon hearing rumors of revolutionary new cards.

No wonder they were wild. Tidelys had played increasingly heavy-hitting cards. A few minor minions were forgettable—but that “Counter Spell”? Unheard of. Name, effect, everything.

Just 3 mana to turn high-tier spells into scrap. Even if it proved weaker later? Worth it.

Especially for countering *that* top-ranked student!

“Miss Ursula! Tell us!”

Tears welling, Tidelys scanned desperately for Viana and Simon. Simon had vanished. Viana stood below, watching with a mischievous grin—clearly enjoying Tidelys’s fluster.

So embarrassing… Do I really have to say it?

Remembering Simon’s scripted lines, Tidelys flushed, stepped back onto the platform, and shouted with all her strength:

“E-everyone! Want the cards I used? Go buy them! Every card in this duel—including the ‘Counter Spell’—is supplied by ‘Simon’s Card House’ in the commercial district! Hurry and—ow!”

She rubbed her cheek. Bit her tongue.

“WHOA!”

Even with the last word muffled, students surged toward the commercial district, driven by “first come, first served.”

Ley, just regaining his senses, felt his vision darken again.

Bad times are here…

…

Turns out Simon’s stamina desperately needed work.

He’d barely gasped back into his shop when a boy shoved the door open.

“This is ‘Simon’s Card House,’ right? Five ‘Counter Spell’ cards!”

Before Simon could speak, the crowd swallowed the boy whole.

“Boss! A dozen ‘Counter Spell’!”

“Two dozen! Sell to me first! Name your price!”

Are you buying cards or oysters?!

Simon sighed. With these absurd quantities, he felt like a fishmonger.

“Um… Everyone, listen!”

Silence fell instantly. Simon took a deep breath.

Times had changed.

For Tidelys, his first customer, he’d gone all out.

Now? Students begged *him* to sell. Time for a little pack-opening shock.

“‘Simon’s Card House’ does not sell single cards. None.”

“But!”

He stressed the key point: “Buy card packs! 300 gold each. Five cards per pack. One Grade D guaranteed.”

“Want ‘Demonbane Warrior,’ ‘Animated Dummy,’ or ‘Counter Spell’? Pull them from the packs!”

Stunned silence.

Grade E averaged 25 gold; Grade D ran 100–200.

Even four E’s and one D wouldn’t cost more than buying singles.

They stood to gain—while the boss would lose his shirt!

After “calculating with world-shaking wisdom,” their frenzy intensified.

Tiny shop = limited stock. First come, first served!

Worried the boss loses money? Not their problem!

“Please stay calm. Boxes on the shelf hold packs. Consume rationally…”

“Here, boss. This box is mine.”

Before Simon finished, the first customer hauled the whole box over. Simon went speechless.

“Only 5,000 packs total. Ten per person. Put the box back.”

Hearing the limit, students grew *more* convinced he was bankrupt—and scrambled harder.

Soon, cheers and groans filled the shop.

“Yes! I pulled ‘Counter Spell’!”

“Crap! Another trash Grade D?!”

For the first time, students realized class wasn’t just nobles vs. commoners—it was luck gods vs. cursed souls.

Amid constant chatter (showing off pulls), Simon scrambled with receipts and customers.

Then—a familiar voice cut through.

“Shopkeeper! We’re here!”

The door opened. Tidelys bounced in, beaming, leading Viana.

Simon waved them over—reinforcements!

“Perfect timing, Tidelys. Come help!”

“Huh? Starting *today*?”

Tidelys’s eyes widened. Couldn’t she enjoy victory five more minutes?

“I didn’t expect this crowd either,” Simon muttered, elbow on counter, rubbing his temples.

“Don’t worry. Double pay today.”

“Got it! Leave it to me!”

Broke but motivated, Tidelys rolled up her nonexistent sleeves.

Viana tilted her head. “Xiao Di… You’re working here?”

Tidelys nodded eagerly.

“Mhm! Shopkeeper’s super kind! Work one year, debt gone! And after? Keep working—with pay *and* benefits!”

Viana blinked. Sighed softly.

Silly child… You’ve been trapped.

…Why do I feel a little jealous?

…

While Simon battled the in-store tsunami, unwelcome eyes locked onto him from outside.

“Ignore it? Risk to the plan?”

Two hooded figures murmured. Students passed by, oblivious.

“…Not yet. Our cause comes first.”

One hooded figure smirked. “True, the shopkeeper ruined our contact with Tidelys Ursula… but didn’t he deliver an even better candidate?”

His gaze settled on Ley, wandering the street—shattered, alone.