A shrill, high-pitched alarm pierced through the room, rattling Russell's nerves.
He rushed to the window. Everything outside was cloaked in a suffocating fog.
From within that haze—distant but unmistakable—came the sound of inhuman howls.
The emergency broadcast looped on the TV, its synthetic voice urgent, while hurried footsteps filled the hallway outside.
Opening the door, Russell saw his neighbors pouring down the stairwell in tense but orderly fashion.
Across the hall, an older woman spotted him.
"Russell! Come on, hurry!" she cried, grabbing his arm.
Drawn into the flow of evacuees, Russell followed the crowd. He noticed how composed they were. Nervous, yes—but not panicked.
They'd done this before.
In this world, Rift Incursions were part of daily life. People had learned to adapt.
As they reached the gates of the Harmony Hills housing complex, a loudspeaker crackled overhead:
"⚠️ Rescue Cardmakers have been deployed. Citizens are advised to remain calm and await assistance."
But the fog pressed in from all directions, thick and unnatural.
No one dared step beyond the gate.
They all knew the truth: Riftspawn could only be fought using cards—and only trained Cardmakers had the power to resist them.
Ordinary people were defenseless.
Even White-tier cards—like [Courier Chickens] used for mail—required baseline cardmaking talent. Most citizens barely had that.
Murmurs of unease rippled through the crowd. This was a large residential zone. Too large.
Would the Cardmaker Association arrive in time?
And this wasn't just any Rift.
This was the Devil's Nest—the largest, most unstable zone in the entire region.
Suddenly, a scream rang out from the far edge of the crowd.
"Monsters! They're here—Riftspawn from the Devil's Nest!"
Dozens of glowing red eyes appeared in the mist.
Someone near the front reacted fast.
"Go! Hound Patrol!"
With a flick of his hand, a young man activated a card:
[Hound Patrol] – White-tier Creature CardSummons a random trained canine.
A sleek German Shepherd emerged, teeth bared and ready.
"Take them down!" the man shouted.
The dog bolted into the mist.
At first—snarling, barking, snapping.
Then a sharp yelp.
Silence.
The crowd fell still.
The card user went pale. A child began to cry.
"Where are the Cardmakers?! They only care about protecting the rich!"
"I don't want to die..."
"Mom? Mom, where are you?"
And then the creatures stepped into view—seven Ghoulfiends, skeletal beasts with warped limbs and gore-slicked jaws.
Three still had chunks of flesh hanging from their fangs.
Russell's breath hitched—but he didn't panic.
His inherited memory told him everything he needed to know. Ghoulfiends were low-level Riftspawn. Any competent Cardmaker with decent materials could take them out.
What worried him wasn't what he saw.
It was what might come next.
The Flesh Lord, for example—one of the infamous horrors lurking deep within the Devil's Nest.
But still, he couldn't just stand by.
Something in him—whether carried from his old life or born anew—refused to let innocent people die.
He stepped forward.
But a familiar hand gripped his arm.
"Don't," warned Aunt May, her voice trembling. "Russell, don't be reckless."
He gave her a calm smile. "It's okay, Aunt May. I'm a Cardmaker now."
She blinked. "You? But…"
Before she could finish, he gently slipped free.
He walked toward the front.
People stared.
"Who's that?"
"Is he crazy?!"
"Get back here before you get yourself killed!"
But Russell didn't stop.
The Ghoulfiends hissed and snarled, pacing like wolves just beyond reach.
He touched his forehead.
A violet glow surged outward.
And suddenly—he wasn't alone.
Yoriichi Tsugikuni stepped into the fog beside him, blade sheathed at his hip.
The crowd gasped.
"A Cardmaker?!"
"He summoned a real combat unit!"
"We're saved!"
"But he's just a kid…"
Russell blocked out the noise.
He looked to Yoriichi and said quietly, "Go. You know what to do."
The swordsman gave a single nod—and drew his blade.
The moment it cleared its sheath, the air shimmered with heat.
Then he vanished.
One Ghoulfiend dropped, its head sailing clean off its shoulders.
The others lunged, shrieking.
Yoriichi bent his knees, sword glowing with radiant energy.
He spun once—his blade arcing like the sun.
A perfect circular slash.
All six remaining monsters were bisected in one fluid motion.
Silence.
Then came the cheers.
Russell stared, stunned.
He'd known Purple-tier cards were powerful—but this?
According to Cardmaker Association benchmarks, even a Blue-tier combat unit could handle only five Ghoulfiends at best.
Yoriichi had taken out seven. Instantly.
Russell moved forward and swept his mental force across the fallen Riftspawn.
Seven cards shimmered into his palm.
[Ghoulfiend] – Green-tier Summoning Material ×7Estimated market value: 20,000 credits each.
He'd just made over 140,000 credits in less than a minute.
No wonder Cardmakers were considered the elite.
But before he could savor it, Yoriichi raised his blade again and stepped in front of him protectively.
Something else was coming.
From deep within the mist… a massive silhouette emerged.
Russell tensed.
This thing was big—far bigger than a Ghoulfiend.
Could Yoriichi handle it?
Then—
A lazy voice drifted through the haze:
"Apologies! Ran into a gluttonous behemoth on the way. Took longer than expected. I'm not late, am I?"
The fog parted.
A two-story-tall silver wolf padded into view, glowing eyes sweeping across the street.
Its fur shimmered with raw power, muscles rippling beneath its frame.
The wolf locked eyes with Russell.
"Whoa. Did you solo all those Ghouls?" it said, grinning with sharp white teeth. "Not bad, kid."
Russell blinked. "...You talk?"
"Not me," the voice came from right beside him now.
Russell turned—and nearly jumped out of his skin.
A man in a ridiculous floral shirt, beach shorts, and flip-flops was standing next to him, casually sipping from a bubble tea.
"Yo. Name's Zephyr," the man said with a wink. "Senior at Westbridge University. Cardmaker Division."
The silver wolf strutted over and let him scratch behind its ear.
"Easy, Moonfang. Don't scare the newbie."
Russell stared at the wolf, then back at Zephyr.
Maybe the situation wasn't under control yet…
But at least now, he wasn't facing it alone.