The sun dipped toward the horizon, lanterns flickering to life in shop windows below.

This time, they dined in a private second-floor room where Liszt had already been waiting.

Simon followed Sallya and sat down with practiced ease, then casually waved.

“Morning, old Liszt! Only been a few days—why’re you back already?”

“Hmph. So *you* know it’s only been days,” Liszt shot him a glare. “You’ve stirred up enough chaos for years in one go.”

He’d wanted the kid to stay low-key. Now the whole world knew his name—how could he possibly develop quietly?

He’d planned to nurture a promising talent slowly. Now angels and demons alike were scrambling to claim him. No wonder his head ached.

Simon scratched his neck awkwardly. “Accident, pure accident. The Demonology Sect started it.”

“Hmph, you little rascal,” Liszt huffed, but no sharp words followed.

Truth was, the Demonology Sect *had* provoked first. In Liszt’s shoes—with his no-nonsense style—he’d have thrown punches first too.

It was just… Simon was too tough a nut to crack, giving the Sect a spectacular global showcase.

“Whatever. Too tired to scold you.”

“I came to brief you on how factions see you. Don’t wanna get tricked into… y’know, losing your kidneys.”

“Great, great—uh, I meant the first part.”

Simon desperately needed this intel. Zero prior contact with these groups left him completely in the dark.

“Nobles first. Haven’t dug deep, but their motives boil down to two: no daughter? Recruit you as family Cardmaker. Got a daughter? Want you as son-in-law.”

Simon waved dismissively. “Skip the second. Zero emotional foundation—I don’t do marriage without building something first.”

“In *those* wealthy-family proposals? Who cares about feelings?” Liszt gave him a *seriously?* look.

He sipped tea. “Cardmaker Guild next. Those Grade B Cardmakers feel torn: genius like you *should* join… but accepting a newly promoted Grade C Cardmaker as their equal? Hard swallow.”

“Heh. Saving face, right?” Simon cut straight through Liszt’s diplomacy.

Sallya hesitated beside them, glancing at Liszt multiple times before staying silent.

Liszt remained calm, sipping tea unperturbed.

He hated that hypocritical “have your cake and eat it too” attitude.

Good thing Simon didn’t know *he* was Guild too—the criticism definitely didn’t include him.

“Lastly, the Demonology Sect. Rumor says their stance toward you is… ambiguous.”

Simon frowned. “Ambiguous? How?”

“You made enemies with them, sure—but those two Grade B cards boosted their prestige *right* in front of the Luminous Order. They might even try recruiting *you*.”

“So I’m the hot commodity everyone wants?”

“No. One exception.”

“The Luminous Order?”

“Mm.” Liszt’s expression turned grave.

“You’re in real danger. Those people *genuinely* want your kidneys harvested.”

Simon sat up straight. “No way. I met Luminous Order members last night—they seemed friendly.”

*This was just step one to shake their authority… surely not this extreme?*

Liszt shook his head. “The ones sent to monitor you? The *rational* few. Devotees like that are rare now.”

Simon blinked. “Rational? There’s a story here?”

Liszt paused, glanced at his granddaughter, then spoke slowly.

“I mentioned Sallya’s parents had deep ties with the Luminous Order. So I’ve had… considerable contact.”

“Over a decade ago, some bishops within the Order grew increasingly aggressive.”

“Whether the Holy Maiden or Pontiff ordered it? Outsiders can’t know. But since then—more clashes with other factions, Church authority subtly pushing to overshadow the crown.”

Simon’s eyes widened. He glanced at Sallya; her bewildered face confirmed Liszt had never shared this.

“They’re unsure of your stance now—so no move yet. Later? Uncertain.”

Liszt sipped tea to clear his throat.

“So… you’re hinting I should pick a faction?” Simon finally caught on.

Liszt hummed. Then:

“I recommend joining the Duel Academy.”

“The Academy?” Simon pointed hesitantly downward. “*This* one?”

“What other Academy?”

“Wait—it counts as a faction?”

“Why wouldn’t it?” Liszt frowned. “The dean’s an S-rank Duelist. You didn’t know?”

Simon shrugged proudly. “Illiterate. Never went to school.”

Liszt shot him a look of pure disdain.

“Anyway—reach out. You run a shop here, solved their crisis. You’re practically half-member already. Joining won’t be hard.”

“But enroll as a *student* at my age?” Simon shuddered. *Calling Tidris “senpai”?* Hard pass.

Liszt scoffed. “Did you sacrifice all your IQ to Grade B cards? Since when does enrolling require *saving* the Academy first?”

“I’m saying—become a *teacher*.”

“Teacher…?”

Simon froze.

He’d never lived past twenty across two lifetimes. At this age, “teacher” only existed in mobile games.

Plus—every student he’d met (Tidris, Viana, even Lei) was a Duelist. He’d never considered the Duel Academy taught Cardmakers too.

His eyes lit up. “Huh. I *could* actually teach.”

Liszt sighed dryly. “Brain finally rebooting? Let’s eat.”

He signaled the door. A waiter entered with wine, pouring only for Liszt.

Just as Simon expected a glass too, a familiar-faced waitress stepped in.

“Wait, honored guest! Congratulations—you’re today’s hundredth customer! Your lucky prize: all beverages upgraded to orange juice.”

Simon: ?

“Your orange juice… aged decades like vintage wine?”

“This is a reputable restaurant, not an alchemy workshop.”

The waitress smiled earnestly. “Our new product. Worth a try.”