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Chapter 39: Grand Promises
🕑 Added 2025-06-30 13:34:34 +0000 UTCIn a dark, unfamiliar room, Brother Tiger woke up on the floor, a dull ache throbbing in his forehead.
"Why... why did I fall asleep?" he mumbled, pushing himself up. His eyes fell on the still, cold body of Skinny. "Oh, right," he muttered to himself, the fabricated memories settling into place like a poorly constructed wall. "After I dealt with Skinny, I felt a little tired, so I rested for a while." He completely ignored the glaring inconsistencies in his own logic.
Suddenly, he froze, a new sense of confusion dawning. "Wait, why is my Vampire card on cooldown?"
As the thought surfaced, another jolt of pain, sharp and brief, shot through his head. "Ah, that's it. Skinny put up a fight before he died and killed it." The thought satisfied him, his mind refusing to acknowledge the absurdity of an ordinary human defeating a bronze-level demon.
"Time to get to the rendezvous point the Spirit Begging Society provided," he grunted, putting the thoughts aside and preparing to leave.
What he didn't know, what he could never know, was that deep within his mind, the ethereal shadow of a white six-tailed fox was silently watching everything through his eyes.
Sitting in the passenger seat of Jonathan Whitemore's car, Russell felt the cool night breeze whip past. He was surprised to find that the vehicle, which had the sleek, aggressive look of a sports car, was actually incredibly comfortable. He'd always read that sports cars sacrificed comfort for performance.
Soon, they pulled up to the headquarters of the New Metro Cardmakers Association. Russell followed Jonathan up to the top floor. It was the same office, with the same powerful people inside.
When Director Blake Whitmore saw Russell, a warm smile touched his weathered face. "Student Russell. We meet again."
"Hello, Director Blake," Russell returned the greeting politely.
But this was no time for pleasantries. President Lance Jennings got straight to the point. "Student Russell, Director Whitemore has briefed us on the situation," he said, his tone grave. "You handled the operative from the Spirit Begging Society very well."
Russell knew the truth. If he hadn't created Luffy just hours before, he would have been in mortal danger, with all his other cards on cooldown.
Unaware of Russell's thoughts, President Jennings continued, "For your part in uncovering this plot, the Association has decided to award you two million Federation Credits."
Two million. It was a staggering amount. A gold-quality bronze-level material on the open market cost about 1.5 million. Still, they wouldn't have summoned him here in the middle of the night just for a cash reward.
"Thank you for the Association's generosity," Russell said, choosing his words carefully. "I will certainly work harder to serve the Association in the future."
Jennings and Whitmore exchanged a brief, knowing glance. The boy wasn't old, but he already knew how to speak the language of bureaucracy. It didn't matter. He was clearly intelligent, which meant they could entrust him with the task ahead.
Just as Russell's mind was racing with questions, President Jennings's face turned serious. "Russell, the Association has a mission for you." "We need you to participate in the upcoming 'Prodigy Cup'... and we need you to win."
Russell was stunned. "If the Association needs me, I will of course accept the responsibility," he said hesitantly, "but I'm just a student." They wouldn't send a high school kid on a mission this dangerous, would they? he thought silently. The Association has thousands of cardmakers. They wouldn't need me, unless…
As if reading his mind, President Jennings smiled. "You may not be aware, Russell, but this Prodigy Cup is exclusively for high school students. Rather than finding another student unfamiliar with the situation, it makes more sense to assign the task directly to you."
He left one crucial detail unsaid: as far as he knew, Russell was the only high school student in all of New Metro to have reached the bronze level. His victory was all but a foregone conclusion.
"And the Association will not let you go uncompensated," Jennings added quickly, as if afraid Russell might refuse. "As long as you take first place, regardless of your results in the provincial unified exams in two months, I can personally guarantee your admission into the cardmaking department of New Metro University."
Russell took a sharp breath. The reward was immense. The cardmaking departments of the major universities were the modern equivalent of elite military academies, established specifically to train the future mid-to-high-ranking personnel of the Association. Graduating from there meant a guaranteed path to power. He would become Director Russell one day.
He immediately straightened up. "President Jennings, you're too kind. It doesn't matter what rewards are offered. I simply wish to do my best for the Association."
Jennings beamed, choosing to ignore the boy's textbook political answer.
"By the way, Russell," Director Blake said, speaking up for the first time in a while. "Would you mind showing us your new bronze-level card?" He was intensely curious. Jonathan had only said that Russell had created a bronze card, not its quality.
Russell didn't hesitate, summoning Luffy into the room.
Seeing the boy with the silly, infectious grin, Blake Whitmore was momentarily stunned. "This is... truly incredible!" As a Master-level cardmaker, he could instantly perceive the overwhelming power contained within the card—it was unmistakably red-quality.
President Jennings, standing beside him, was so shocked he was speechless. They had reviewed Russell's file. They knew he had only acquired the materials today. They had assumed, at best, he might have produced a purple card by leveraging high-quality materials. But a red card, on his very first day as a bronze-level cardmaker... it was unprecedented.
After a long moment of silence, Director Blake looked at Russell, his expression solemn. "Student Russell, I will make you a promise. If you take first place in this Prodigy Cup, and then place in the top three of the subsequent provincial unified examination and choose to attend Northgate University, I will accept you as my personal disciple."
Blake Whitmore was a renowned scholar at Northgate, and he hadn't taken on a disciple in many years. President Jennings turned his head sharply to look at him. He knew that every single one of Blake's previous disciples had reached, at minimum, the emerald level. With Russell's talent and Blake's personal guidance, the diamond level was a certainty. Even… Master level was not an impossibility.
Seeing that Blake was completely serious, Jennings began winking frantically at Russell. Jonathan, standing beside him, secretly tugged the corner of Russell's shirt, urging him to agree.
Russell himself was dizzy, as if a whole platter of pies had just fallen from the sky and landed in his lap. This man was one of the three Master Cardmakers of the Federation, the Duke of the Sea Marches, the legendary Blake Whitmore. To be his disciple was an honor beyond imagining.
He reigned in his excitement, his voice coming out deep and steady. "Thank you, Director Blake, for your immense kindness. I will certainly work my hardest."
Both Jennings and Whitemore breathed a silent sigh of relief. They had been terrified the boy's pride might cause him to refuse.
But at that moment, Russell continued to speak, his voice clear and firm.
"President Jennings, I have one condition. If I take first place, I ask that the Association grant me permission to enter the [Black Flag] secret realm again."
"Even if it means forfeiting all other rewards."
(End of this chapter)
Comments
Raphael Espinoza Angulo
Well, being his disciple means more resources
