Morning, on the second floor of the card shop.

Simon sat in his room, dipping his quill into ink and jotting down his research.

"Essence of Air: Combined with rubber, it grants two effects—'Instant death upon taking any damage' and 'Halves mana cost.' Currently limited to Grade C cards. Whether higher-grade materials are required for Grade B and above remains unknown..."

This was part of his analysis of yesterday’s card, *Pneumatic Giant King*.

More precisely, Simon was deconstructing its effects.

In this world, cardmakers had always studied others’ recipes to forge their own.

Put politely: learning by analogy.

Bluntly: swap one material, test replacements one by one, and hope luck delivers a new card.

To Simon, this was wasteful—and often yielded weaker results.

So why not skip recipes entirely and study materials directly?

If every material’s effect could be mapped, card creation would become simple combinatorics.

That was Simon’s experiment.

Also why his old warehouse overflowed with Grade E cards.

Mind clear, Simon’s pen flew across the page.

Preliminary tests were done; now he only recorded results. His hand barely paused.

Still, by the time he finished, the mechanical desk clock had chimed twelve times.

"Noon already?"

Simon stretched with a soft yawn.

Hunger crept in the moment his focus broke.

Thankfully, one piece of bread remained from breakfast.

Habitually, he reached sideways—only to grasp empty air.

"Huh?"

He turned. The bread on the plate was gone.

In its place, a tiny orange tabby with tiger stripes sat on the floor.

The kitten happily licked *his* bread.

Half of it was already missing.

Unfazed by Simon standing, it glanced up once, then resumed licking.

Simon crouched and gently rubbed its head.

"Where’d you little rascal climb in from?"

"Meow."

It didn’t dodge, purring contentedly before returning to its bread battle.

Simon scanned the room—ah, the window stood open just a hair. Must’ve leaped in via the branch outside.

"You’re really making yourself at home. Feels like *you’re* the master here."

As Simon reached for its neck, the door swung open.

"Shopkeeper, I brought something—Ah! A kitty!"

Before Simon could react, a white blur darted forward and scooped up the bewildered kitten.

The kitten froze, then panicked as the bread drifted away. It kicked its front paws wildly.

But its captor was Tidelys.

"So cute!"

Tidris expertly scratched under its chin.

"Meeoow~"

A blissful yet pitiful meow escaped.

Tidris tilted the kitten this way and that. "Shopkeeper, where’d this kitty come from?"

Simon shook his head. "No tags. Probably a stray."

"Can we adopt it?"

"...Sure."

Simon watched the oblivious kitten.

Feeding one or two made little difference.

Even if it grew into a giant orange tabby—could it eat more than Tidris?

"Yay!"

Tidris spun with the kitten in her arms. "Let’s name it! What do you think, Shopkeeper?"

"Ajeni."

Tidris shook her head hard. "Nope. Sounds too fierce."

*Of course—it’s a lion’s name.*

Simon, hopeless at naming, tossed it back. "Your turn."

"Hmm… Cecil?"

Simon shook his head. "Nah. Sounds like a black cat’s name."

Pouting, Tidris turned the kitten toward her. "What *should* we call you?"

Her eyes lit up at the half-eaten bread on the floor.

"Bread!"

Simon didn’t object. Fitted an orange tabby well.

(Though he suspected hunger inspired the choice.)

She ruffled the kitten’s head. "Bread, do you like your name?"

"Meow—"

In a flash, Bread wriggled free, snatched the bread, and bolted out the window.

"Shopkeeper! Bread the cat ran off with the bread!"

Simon could only sigh at the tongue-twister.

"Never mind the cat, Tidris. Why’d you come up?"

"Ah! Almost forgot!"

Tidris dashed back, retrieved the fallen item, and hurried to him.

"Master Liszt’s invitation arrived."

Simon took it, slightly surprised. "Just one day? Old Liszt’s efficient."

He opened it. Organizer: *Mammoth Gold Trading Company*.

"Tch. Old Liszt really pulled out all the stops."

Even Simon’s former self—a borderlands bumpkin—knew that name.

Its reach spanned the entire kingdom, wildlands, even other intelligent races. The undisputed largest merchant house.

Its auctions? Top-tier. Invitation-only. Nobles and luminaries only.

"Didn’t expect two invites."

Simon fanned himself with the pair. The second’s recipient was obvious.

"Shopkeeper! Me, me, me! Take me!"

Tidris clung to his arm, rubbing eagerly.

"Alright, alright. Go summon a carriage to the Royal Capital."

"Roger that!"

She released him, gave a clumsy salute, and turned to leave.

"Wait, Tidris."

"Yeah?"

"...Nothing. Just drink more milk from now on. I’ll cover the extra."

After a quiet comparison to yesterday’s… impression, Simon patted her shoulder.

*Still a bit small.*

But he couldn’t let the kid go hungry.