It was a scorching summer day in Nova Eden, deep within the residential sector of Harmony Hills.
Russell blinked awake, dazed and disoriented. The TV in the corner was still on, droning out a news report in a crisp, mechanical voice:
"Master-ranked Cardmaker 'Yama'—real name Byron White—has officially arrived in Nova Eden. Local authorities extend a formal welcome.White is widely regarded as the foremost expert in the Netherborn Archetype.His arrival is tied to the recent instability of the offshore Rift Zone: Codename Devil's Nest.Sources suspect the Hollowed Tongues cult may be behind the latest wave of activity.Citizens are urged to report unusual behavior immediately."
The broadcast hit Russell like static through a frayed wire. Then—memories struck like a freight train.
"Did I... transmigrate?" he muttered, gripping the bedframe.
In his old life, Russell had been a burnout anime fan and unemployed illustrator. After months of joblessness, crushed by the AI art boom, he'd drowned himself in cheap liquor—only to choke to death on his own vomit.
"What a pathetic way to die... Oh no—my hard drive. I didn't wipe my reference folders..."
His face turned pale as he tried not to imagine what his friends or family might discover. Not his problem anymore.
Because now—his mind was filled with someone else's life.
A different world.
This one was called Blue Star. It looked like Earth on the surface, but here, power came from a single elite profession: Cardmaking.
At first, history had followed familiar lines—until the event known as Riftfall. Cracks tore across the sky and land, linking the world to hostile dimensions teeming with monsters.
In the chaos, a lone borderland warrior named Colin Stroud vanished into one of the Rifts.
Everyone assumed he was dead.
He returned blood-soaked and victorious, clutching the world's first-ever Card.
Just like that, everything changed.
The crumbling Old Dominion suddenly had an edge. Over six centuries, Cardmaking became the dominant system of power, transforming the Dominion into the world's superpower.
The royal family was now ceremonial. Real authority lay with the Imperial Council, and Cardmakers were its elite caste.
Russell scratched his head.
"Okay, I get it. This world runs on cards and plot twists."
In this new life, he'd inherited the body of a teenager—same name, Russell—preparing to become a Cardmaker. But that Russell had pulled one too many all-nighters and dropped dead from exhaustion.
And now?
Russell had a second shot—and a system built around something he actually loved.
"Please let this be a protagonist-type setup..."
He grabbed the dusty Mythic Lore Compendium, Revised Edition 4.8. His heart leapt—until he flipped through the pages.
"Wait… I don't know any of this crap."
He could name a few gods and monsters, but crafting myth-grade cards required insane detail and lore accuracy. He had none of that.
"So much for being a legendary cardsmith."
He tossed the book aside and reached for another:
Narrative Building for System-Based Cardmakers, by Redmane.
One line stood out:
"If your concept is consistent and your logic solid, fictional constructs can manifest as real cards."
Russell froze.
"Wait... does that mean anime counts?"
His eyes lit up.
He might not know ancient mythologies—but anime? He lived that stuff. Hundreds of series. Thousands of characters. Worlds, arcs, power systems—all burned into his brain.
Maybe this wasn't a setback. Maybe it was a shortcut.
He kept reading about card crafting.
"Mental strength, material components, narrative logic, visual design..."
Of the four, mental strength was the only one he didn't have to worry about. Maybe due to transmigration, his mental strength already registered at Black Iron Rank—the baseline for novice Cardmakers.
Still, the process was brutal. Cardmaking demanded creativity, discipline, and costly resources. But if you succeeded? You lived like royalty.
He took a deep breath. Time to face this new life's mess.
"Loan debt... fantastic."
According to the original Russell's memories, his parents had died during a Rift invasion. All they'd left behind was this old house and barely enough money to survive high school.
To fund his training, Russell had taken a desperate gamble.
He borrowed 100,000 credits from a debt corp. If he didn't pay it back within a month, the house would be seized.
"High-stakes tutorial level. Perfect."
But there was a silver lining: becoming a certified Cardmaker would earn him a 150,000-credit scholarship from Nova Eden First Academy.
Enough to wipe out his debt and cover his future.
But if he failed?
"I'll be homeless before midterms."
The clock was ticking.
Russell booted up his battered old PC and logged into the Cardmaker Association Material Exchange, an online shop tied to one's rank.
As a Black Iron novice, his access was restricted to entry-level materials.
Creatures:
Rookie Pirate (White)
Elite Swordsman (Blue)
Snake-Faced Wraith (Green)
Corpse Hound (Green)
Noose Spirit (Blue)
Avenging Shade (Green)
Equipment:
Katana (Green)
Runesteel Armor (Blue)
Curved Saber (Green)
Basic Training Gear (White)
Russell drummed his fingers.
He needed a working card—fast.
Then his eyes lit up.
"I think I've got it."
He added to his cart:
Elite Swordsman (Blue)
Avenging Shade (Green)
Katana (Green)
Blank Card Template
Total: 92,500 credits.
Painful—but manageable.
He grit his teeth and clicked Confirm Purchase.
"Let's go. All or nothing."
As the transaction processed, a strange emptiness washed over him. He leaned back and shut his eyes, prepping for what came next.
Half an hour later—
Tap. Tap. Tap.
A snow-white bird with an oversized head pecked at the window. A small messenger bag hung from its neck.
"What the hell...?"
A CooCoo Courier, according to memory. A White-tier support creature used for city deliveries.
Russell opened the window. The bird plucked out a sealed envelope and held it out with its beak.
Then it pecked a button on its bag.
"Please confirm the delivery," chirped a cheerful female voice.
He checked the contents:
Elite Swordsman (Blue)
Avenging Shade (Green)
Katana (Green)
Blank Card Template
"All here," Russell said.
He reached to pat the bird—
It jumped back and pecked another button.
"Please do not touch delivery personnel during active hours."
With a huff, the bird flapped away.
Russell watched it vanish over the rooftops, a small smile tugging at his lips.
He'd seen it now—magic, power, real cards in motion.
This wasn't a dream.
It was reality.
"Alright then..." he said, eyes gleaming.
"Let's make my first anime card."