Instantly, every pair of eyes in the shop locked onto Simon.

“Give up?”

Sallya furrowed her brows at the words.

Though she didn’t want her grandfather handing out recommendations carelessly, she also felt Simon had no right to dismiss it so lightly.

She wanted to grab his ear and shout: accepting this invitation meant joining her grandfather’s inner circle directly.

But bound by Grandpa’s order to keep his identity secret, Sallya could only huff and ask,

“Do you even grasp what this invitation truly means?”

Simon sat back, palms up. “I hold no fondness for the Cardmaker Guild. So however precious it is, it holds no meaning for me.”

Even without knowing Liszt’s true status, Simon could sense the invitation’s weight from the old man’s solemn demeanor.

Yet having just criticized the Guild’s rigidity, he naturally felt no interest.

Sallya’s sharply arched brows sharpened her gaze. “Then you simply fail to recognize its value.”

“The Guild allocates resources to official members below Grade C Cardmaker—card materials, mentorship from senior Cardmakers, access to restricted texts.”

“Every Grade D Cardmaker who joins officially advances to Grade C within three years. These resources? Unattainable anywhere else.”

Simon shook his head calmly. “I’ve always lived freely. I dislike constraints.”

The offer sounded generous, but he knew accepting meant binding himself to the Guild for life.

No organization tolerates wasted investment.

He’d rather refuse than lose freedom.

Besides, he was confident he could surpass so-called geniuses without their help.

“You!”

How could someone be so utterly stubborn?

Sallya nearly punched the infuriating guy.

Suddenly, as if realization struck, her clenched fist loosened.

She fixed Simon with a gaze laced with a trace of disdain.

“I see. You fear competition, don’t you? Afraid of being exposed before true geniuses.”

“Every Cardmaker’s advancement challenges limits. Not everyone is fit to walk this path far.”

Arms crossed tightly beneath her chest, Sallya’s posture accentuated her figure.

Simon’s patience wore thin.

*Old Liszt—where’d you get this blonde tsundere granddaughter? Doesn’t she know tsundere’s practically outdated?*

*How could Grandpa be friends with someone so unmotivated?*

Opposite thoughts flashed through their minds.

Simon shot Liszt a look, urging explanation—but the old man sat chuckling at the scene, while Tidelys even served him Simon’s own coffee.

*Two completely unreliable people.*

Simon rolled his eyes.

Truth was, he could’ve summed it up plainly: the Cardmaker Guild was a self-sabotaging, idiotic organization, and he wanted no part of it.

But seeing Sallya’s fierce loyalty, he guessed she was Guild staff.

He took a slow breath and offered one last gentle reply.

“I simply disagree with the Guild’s methods. Please allow me to return this invitation.”

Sallya’s eyes grew haughtier. “No rebuttal? So you *are* afraid of competition.”

*Ugh. So tired. Just let the world end.*

Simon had no words left. “No. I just prefer resolving this… differently.”

Sallya: “Is that so? Then…”

“Duel me.”

“Duel me.”

Simon drew a card case from under the counter and raised it before her.

Simultaneously, Sallya pulled her own case from her pocket.

Though at odds, they’d both instinctively chosen the same path to settle things.

Sallya arched a brow. “Hmph. Not entirely useless. At least your decisiveness earns slight praise.”

Simon stood with a faint smile. “No. I just anticipated this plot twist.”

Naturally—in a card battle anime world, duels solved everything.

The familiar card texture sent a long-lost thrill coursing through him.

*Decision made. For Old Liszt’s sake, I’ll set this tsundere straight.*

*If she won’t yield? My strongest deck will correct her until she does.*

Pleased by his cooperation, Sallya nodded.

“Good. Since you’re ready—how about one added rule?”

She smoothly laid out the condition.

“This duel permits only cards you personally created. No cards crafted from others’ recipes.”

Cardmakers dueled like Duelists, but unlike them, they couldn’t imprint others’ cards—their decks had to be self-made.

Sallya’s rule tightened it further: only original creations allowed. A true test of Cardmaker creativity.

“This ensures you won’t think I’m bullying you with Guild-exclusive cards.”

A faint, unrestrained smile touched Simon’s lips. “Play however you like. I don’t mind.”

*Why’s he suddenly so excited?*

Sallya couldn’t fathom it.

*Never mind. Probably just given up.*

“Let’s go. This space is too cramped.”

“The shop has a dedicated dueling arena. Follow me.”

Arms crossed, Sallya trailed Simon inward.

Tidris, silent until now, watched anxiously as tensions escalated to a duel. She turned worried eyes to Liszt.

“Grandpa Liszt… won’t you stop them?”

“Why should I?” Liszt chuckled, watching their retreating backs.

“Young folks—if a duel solves it, skip the arguing.”

“Win consistently, and you become truth incarnate. Disagree? Duel them until they comply.”

“You…”

Tidris never expected the eldest present not only to avoid mediating but to fan flames, legs casually crossed.

“Hah! Think I’m too frivolous?” Liszt set down his porcelain cup, pointing at Simon’s back.

“Haven’t you noticed? That boy’s been smiling since the start.”

“He’s been waiting patiently for someone to walk right into his trap.”

He rose, cane in hand, beckoning Tidris.

“Come. Let’s watch inside. I’m truly eager to see Simon’s growth.”