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Russell returned home around nine that night. He had been direct in his mission; there was no attempt to "recruit" Victor Drake, only a swift, brutal execution. Trying to bring a man like that into the Spirit Begging Society would have been a pointless charade.
Sinking into his sofa, Russell began a mental inventory of his current arsenal. His Iron-level creature cards included the [Demon Hunter · Yoriichi Tsugikuni] (Purple), [Centipede · Ken Kaneki] (Red), and [Pidgeot] (Green). At the Bronze level, he now had the two unofficial brothers, Luffy and Zoro. His collection of item cards consisted of the [Three Treasures], the [Beads of Concealment], and the formidable [Mark 3] armor.
However, with his own promotion to the bronze rank, he knew that his Iron-level cards, particularly Yoriichi and Kaneki, would see less and less use in serious battles. Kaneki was fine; he at least had a clear, established route for advancement. The trouble was with Yoriichi. The lore Russell had written for him was a closed loop, ending with his death, which meant the card had no pre-defined evolutionary path. But then Russell considered what he had learned: as long as the settings for a card were reasonable and complete, a new evolution could be created. That, combined with the strange feedback he'd received from that mysterious space when making the [Mark 3], gave him a sliver of hope. It was all invented lore anyway; maybe Yoriichi still had a chance.
The bigger problem was Zoro. The swordsman who should have been his public ace could no longer appear openly due to his "undercover" work. This left Russell feeling strategically vulnerable. He urgently needed to add more powerful, usable cards to his public-facing deck.
It's just that I wrote Yoriichi's story to its conclusion, Russell thought silently. If the character hadn't died, there would be so many new tales to write. He could imagine Yoriichi traveling across the ocean to a new continent and meeting a legendary, nameless swordsman from a different epic. But that style doesn't quite fit, he mused. Suddenly, he remembered a minor detail from the Demon Slayer world. "I remember there was a setting for souls in that world, wasn't there?" It was true. The original author had included it, though it wasn't a prominent part of the main plot.
"Then… can I have him become a Soul Reaper?" Russell muttered, stroking his chin as the idea took shape. A master swordsman, a brush with death, a connection to the soul… the only concept he could think of that tied them all together was a Soul Reaper. "If this is really possible," he reasoned, his excitement growing, "then Zoro's upper limit won't be a problem either. What's to stop the future world's greatest swordsman from pulling out a Zanpakutō one day?!"
His brilliant train of thought came to a screeching halt when he checked the balance in his account: just over 600,000 credits. A wave of melancholy washed over him. Even the best chef can't cook without ingredients. To upgrade Yoriichi to bronze, he would need to fuse at least two or three bronze-level materials into the card just for a chance at success. With his current funds, he'd be lucky to afford a single purple-quality bronze material.
But then, he remembered the prize he had yet to claim: another entry into a secret realm. I have to make good use of this opportunity to make some serious money. His original plan had been to find a realm rich in medical materials, but now that he possessed the [Mark 3], with its excellent defensive and escape capabilities, that was no longer a priority. On the surface, he was just a high school student; he shouldn't encounter much danger in his daily life. Well, he amended, I don't have much confidence saying that. But with his new "membership" in the Society, the threats lurking in the shadows of New Metro should, theoretically, leave him alone.
"Hey, have you heard? There was a huge murder case in the Evergrove District last night!"
The next morning, whispers filled the key classroom at New Metro First High. Russell, having just entered, felt his body tense for a split second before he forced himself to relax. He casually made his way to his desk, carefully listening to his classmates' excited discussion.
"I know! They're saying the killer's name is 'Aim Alman'!"
Aim Alman? Russell was stunned for a moment before the sound registered: I am Iron Man. He felt a surge of helplessness, but it wasn't like he could stand up and correct them.
"Yeah, and I heard he was wearing silver armor."
"Silver armor? Weird, my cousin said it was silver tights."
What is this nonsense? Russell's face darkened.
"And his card is a swordsman who uses a three-sword style!"
"That's garbage, it was obviously a Four-Sword Style!"
"You're all wrong! My uncle who works for the city guard told me it was the Ninety-Nine Sword Style!"
Why is it always someone's uncle? Russell thought, though he was secretly relieved. Besides the woman he'd rescued, there were no direct witnesses. He had been fully concealed by the armor and the [Beads of Concealment], and the cards he'd used were completely unknown. There was no real danger of his identity being exposed. He wasn't surprised the death of Victor Drake had become public knowledge. With that many bodies and a survivor, even Marcus couldn't suppress the story completely without raising suspicion. It was far better to let the news break and have Marcus secretly guide the rumors.
Arriving at his seat, Russell saw Nancy quietly reading a book. This reminded him of her previous comment about her father acting strangely. Russell had his own theory about that. I'm afraid Director Blake and the others suspect Mr. Whitemore is the traitor. It was a suspicion he'd briefly entertained himself; after all, Jonathan Whitemore was always involved in his affairs. But it hadn't taken long to dismiss the idea. Others might not know the full picture, but he did. On several occasions, he was the one who had called Jonathan for help.
Pushing the thoughts away, Russell offered a greeting. "Hey, Nancy. How has your father been doing recently?"
Nancy looked up. "Oh, Russell. He's been better than before, actually," she responded. "And I don't know if it's just my imagination, but he seems much freer these days. He spends more time at home now."
Hearing this, Russell sighed inwardly. So it's true. Her words all but confirmed his guess. The Association really did think her father was a traitor. Why else would a gold-level cardmaker be effectively unemployed during such a critical time?
The path to helping him was simple in theory: secretly report Marcus as the real traitor. The problem was, the Spirit Begging Society wasn't stupid. Few people knew Marcus's true identity within the organization. If Marcus suddenly had problems right after recruiting me, they'd know it was me in a heartbeat. This was why he hadn't acted yet. At the very least, he resolved, I have to wait until I understand just how deep the Society's network goes.
Despite his inner turmoil, he had to say something comforting. He couldn't very well tell her that her father was suspected of treason and had been put on administrative leave, so he grasped for the only reassuring excuse he could offer, however flimsy it sounded. "Well, he should probably rest more now that he's getting older."
To his surprise, Nancy heaved a sigh of relief. "You're right," she complained softly, though her tone was happy. "He was so busy before. It's nice that he finally has time to spend with me."
Seeing her genuine happiness, Russell felt a wave of relief himself. As long as she could accept it, that was what mattered.
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