"Could Miss Viana please elaborate?"

"Of course."

Viana swept her long hair behind her shoulder with a gentle smile. "First, do you know how Grade B and above Cardmakers handle the cards they create?"

"Not really," Simon said, shaking his head slightly.

Though he’d inherited the original owner’s memories through soul transmigration, that person hadn’t been familiar with the Cardmaker profession either. So Simon had been feeling his way forward, step by step.

"Hehe, no worries if you don’t," Viana chuckled lightly behind her hand before revealing the answer.

"They strictly control card circulation. Only close allies or those who pledge loyalty may obtain them. Even powerful nobles—or the royal family—aren’t guaranteed access."

"Multiple reasons: crafting cards requires materials, and high-grade resources are scarce. Senior Cardmakers also see no need to waste time mass-producing the same card."

Simon nodded in understanding, especially at the last point.

Advancing the Spark Core required something called "Ransu," obtained each time a card was crafted. But the Ransu gained from creating a brand-new card versus replicating an existing one wasn’t even in the same league.

For instance, Simon had already made 600 copies of [Counter Spell], yet the Ransu from forging the very first one exceeded the total from copies two through six hundred combined.

This system discouraged stagnation among Cardmakers—but also made advancement far more difficult than for Duelists.

"So how does this relate to me becoming famous across the kingdom?" Simon spread his hands.

After sipping her black tea, Viana continued. "Senior Cardmakers naturally form factions by restricting their cards’ flow. To compete with a faction… you must become one."

Here, she finally revealed her intent.

"Mr. Simon, your card is an epoch-making innovation—the Royal Capital simply hasn’t realized it yet. But as a Grade D Cardmaker stepping into Grade B conflicts? You’d be outmatched. Those old fogeys won’t welcome a rising genius."

"Therefore… partner with us. House Rod will shield you. In return, share a portion of your future creations."

"As long as House Rod remains unharmed, you may even use us as a stepping stone to build your own faction."

Viana’s eyes gleamed warmly, her posture humble like a devoted admirer. Every word seemed crafted for Simon’s benefit.

At her climax, she leaned forward unconsciously—the table pressing against her chest in a subtly suggestive curve.

Sincerity aside, Viana’s gentle charm alone would’ve swayed many to agree.

But sadly, her vision had never aligned with Simon’s from the start.

*Knock, knock.*

The door opened. A waitress entered with a bottle and flute glasses, pouring sparkling wine. White foam swirled; tiny bubbles rose with a soft *glug glug*.

"Ah—the sparkling wine I ordered. Meant as an aperitif to celebrate our deal. Seems I’ve lingered too long." Viana swirled her glass, eyes bright with expectation. "So… what is your answer, Mr. Simon?"

Only after the waitress left the upper floor did Simon speak slowly.

"Honestly? I don’t care about cooperation terms. I’d even hand Miss Viana the full materials and method for [Counter Spell] without hesitation."

"In fact… I might need House Rod’s Cardmakers to help share the workload."

*What is he saying?*

Viana blinked, doubting her ears. Who surrenders leverage mid-negotiation?

The first line stunned her. The second left her utterly bewildered.

"If we cooperate, my only condition: no production limits. Print as many as possible—even if every soul in the kingdom holds one."

"Why?" Even Viana’s composure cracked.

"You know [Counter Spell]’s value! Monopolize it, and every Duelist begs at your door. Nobles would fight to seat you as guest of honor!"

Simon remained unmoved, calmly sipping his wine.

The tables had turned.

"Miss Viana—pray tell: which deck, which faction, is strongest today?"

Startled, she replied after a pause, "The Luminous Order’s [Angel Legion]. They monopolize angelic and resurrection cards. To obtain them… you must follow their doctrine."

"And how long have they reigned?"

"I’m unsure of the exact span, but 3,000 years ago, the Pontiff of the Luminous Order defeated all Duelists worldwide. They were dominant even then."

"Three thousand years…" Simon sighed. "Don’t you think that’s too long?"

Viana’s voice grew cautious. "Do you… disagree with the Luminous Order’s doctrine?"

His sigh made her think of their mortal enemy: the Demonology Sect—scholars who studied demons, scorned the Order’s teachings, locked in centuries of rivalry.

*Is Mr. Simon one of them?*

Simon shook his head.

"Replace the Luminous Order with any power—I stand by this:"

He drained his glass, then slammed it onto the table with a sharp *clink*.

"This hoarding, stagnant environment is utterly boring."

Viana’s lashes trembled. She was beginning to understand.

"I don’t care about royal schemes or faction wars. I only know this: a duel is a duel."

Once duels tangled with class and power, this world accepted deck hierarchies—believing one supreme deck must tower over all, forcing others to breathe its shadow.

Simon never believed that.

A healthy meta blooms in diversity. Even the strongest deck needs a counter. Every card gamer from his past life knew this. Hence—

"A single deck ruling for 3,000 years?"

"Sorry. Half a year feels too long."