Chapter 4: Clow Cards
Eriri's phone call dismissed from his mind, Kazama Chiba focused entirely on examining the Rat Talisman in his hand.
Until stumbling across this object disguised as an antique ceramic lamp on an auction website, he'd naively assumed his transmigration destination was merely a mundane slice-of-life crossover world devoid of supernatural elements.
Who'd have predicted that Jackie Chan Adventures—a series with genuine high-power combat capabilities—had infiltrated the setting?
Kazama closed his eyes, mentally reviewing the Rat Talisman's core mechanics in exhaustive detail:
"Animation."
Granting life to inanimate objects.
Simply put: making your anime figure waifus real.
If some hormone-driven otaku acquired this artifact, their first impulse would probably be resurrecting some Rem or Asuna figurine, orchestrating a "my waifu came to life" scenario.
However, according to the source material's demonstrated limitations, the Rat Talisman—when not embedded in a living host—most likely operated single-threaded, animating only one target at a time.
Given such high opportunity costs, wasting it on creatures whose only functions were acting cute qualified as criminal negligence.
More critically, in this fusion world bristling with crises, a figurine waifu whose combat capabilities maxed out at shouting "onii-chan" and bed-warming served what purpose exactly?
Kazama also dismissed the seemingly clever web novel trope of resurrecting ancient masters for apprenticeship.
The reason was simple:
Too risky.
In the original Jackie Chan Adventures, entities revived by the Rat Talisman—the Quetzalcoatl statue, the Saint Paladin statue—possessed not only independent consciousness but tremendous power, completely beyond the talisman holder's control.
If he resurrected some legendary powerhouse whose first action upon opening their eyes wasn't grateful servitude but casually swatting him like an insect before seizing the talisman for their own freedom... that would be genuinely hilarious.
Kazama's cautious nature dictated trusting only power firmly in his own grasp. He'd never permit an uncontrollable, potentially treacherous force operating beside him.
By comparison, utilizing the talisman to activate absolutely obedient weapons or tools seemed far more sensible.
But this raised a new question:
Could the Rat Talisman grant function to "unconscious inanimate objects"?
Kazama wasn't certain. This was his first time using it.
However, in the original storyline, the revived statue of the paladin Lopez could utilize his original enchanted gear.
This indicated the Rat Talisman didn't merely grant life—it could materialize an object's conceptual abilities.
If a statue could wield magic, then theoretically a toy gun brought to life should fire real bullets.
As long as the logic held consistent, this weaponization path remained viable.
But activating weapons wasn't child's play. Kazama needed to select something not only powerful but also obedient—after all, divine artifacts choosing their wielders wasn't uncommon in anime settings.
Kazama's gaze shifted to the pile of miscellaneous merchandise he'd just purchased.
As a transmigrator intimately familiar with countless anime mechanics, he understood perfectly that strategic selection trumped effort.
If he had to find a vessel for the Rat Talisman, it needed exceptional cost-effectiveness—something that could unleash devastating effects even without the user possessing inherent power.
Moreover, the weapon required zero side effects. Something ordinary people could wield immediately.
Many weapons connected to their native universe's power systems.
The Void Archives required Honkai energy. Sharingan needed chakra.
Others like Teigu or the Blazing Dragon Saber drained half the user's life force on activation.
Late-stage death practically guaranteed.
With so many options available, Kazama felt no urgency. He'd take his time selecting carefully.
Kazama extracted a blue plastic gun-shaped object from one bag.
Kamen Rider Decade, Diend Driver.
According to its source material, this qualified as an invaluable artifact—simply pulling the trigger summoned Kamen Riders to fight for you. Most crucially, it had no bloodline authentication or surgical implantation prerequisites. Even random street thugs could operate it.
For Kazama, desperately needing combat power supplementation, this resembled starter village divine equipment.
"It's just a two-thousand-yen bootleg knockoff, but as long as the concept matches, it should work, right?"
Kazama pressed the Rat Talisman against the driver's card slot.
One second.
Two seconds.
Ten seconds.
The blue plastic shell remained utterly lifeless. Not even a cheap fifty-cent special effect flash.
Kazama skeptically pulled the trigger several times. Apart from the clatter of bargain-basement springs, nothing happened.
What?
Did I miscalculate?
Kazama tossed the plastic toy back into the bag.
If tokusatsu series didn't work, he'd try cultivation or magic systems.
Over the next ten minutes, Kazama attempted various experiments.
The Rumble-Rumble Fruit from One Piece. The Elucidator from Sword Art Online. Even Aladdin's lamp got tested.
Without exception, every attempt failed.
The Rat Talisman behaved like an ordinary rock. Pressing it against objects produced zero reaction—it even slid off due to gravity and struck Kazama's foot.
Didn't hurt.
But the insult stung tremendously.
"Damn..."
Kazama retrieved the talisman, his brow furrowing into deep creases.
"Where exactly did this go wrong?"
"Looks like my initial hypothesis was flawed. It's not simply about having established lore. The Rat Talisman's core principle is 'animating the static.'"
"The critical character is that 'animate' component."
"If something conceptually exists as pure dead matter without any living aspect to its design, the talisman has no leverage point."
Statues were dead objects, but they depicted once-living beings.
Figurines were dead objects, but represented vibrant characters.
What about weapons?
Ordinary swords were merely tools lacking souls.
Even conceptually overpowered divine artifacts, if they possessed no self-awareness, might register as equivalent to bricks under the talisman's judgment criteria.
Take the Diend Driver—in its original setting, it was just equipment requiring an operator like Daiki Kaito to function.
It possessed no soul, no consciousness.
Even if the Rat Talisman granted it life, it wouldn't understand its own purpose.
Like animating a rock—you'd simply have a breathing rock. It wouldn't spontaneously learn calculus.
If this theory held, obtaining a living weapon required finding a vessel already possessing self-awareness or quasi-biological conceptual design.
"Need to change approaches. I'm not searching for mere dead objects, but vessels conceptually possessing life or consciousness."
Kazama's gaze swept across his bookshelf.
Rows of colorful manga volumes lined the shelves.
Zanpakuto from Bleach?
No good. Some sword spirits had worse temperaments than their masters. Might get slashed for fun upon resurrection. Uncontrollable risk.
Doraemon?
No good. This world didn't even have Doraemon.
"It needs to be an object with self-awareness, sufficiently powerful, usable by ordinary people, and—most critically—absolutely loyal or temperamentally docile."
Kazama's eyes roamed the figure collection, finally settling on a pink box in the corner.
Among the pile of hardcore shonen manga merchandise, this overwhelmingly girly box stood out like a sore thumb.
Cardcaptor Sakura—The Book of Clow.
"Clow Cards..."
Kazama's eyes lit up instantly.
Even macho men couldn't refuse magical girl power!
In the source material, every Clow Card was created by the great mage Clow Reed. They possessed not only formidable magical abilities but—more importantly—
They each had consciousness, individual personalities, even spirit forms.
"This is it."
Kazama straightened, reaching for the hardcover book.
The sun and moon emblems on the cover were merely printed, but under the desk lamp they still appeared somewhat mysterious.
"Don't disappoint me this time."
He opened the pages. Rather than empty, they contained a neatly arranged stack of cards.
Though just printed cardboard merchandise, the illustrations were clearly visible.
The first card depicted a long-haired, upper-body-only female spirit surrounded by flowing lines.
One of the four elemental cards: The Windy.
In the original story, this was the first card Sakura captured—also the gentlest, most obedient one.
"Don't let me down. Even if you can only blow desk fan-level wind, that's massive progress."
Kazama gripped the Rat Talisman more solemnly than any previous attempt.
He gently placed the stone token at the card's center.
In that instant, a peculiar transformation occurred.
Kazama felt the texture beneath his fingertips somehow changing.
Not an illusion.
The Rat Talisman melted into that thin paper slip like sugar dissolving in water, silent and complete.
The cheap cardboard's rigid texture vanished in an eyeblink, replaced by lustrous smoothness like polished jade.
The female figure on the card seemed to move slightly. Those previously lifeless eyes gained an indescribable spark of vitality.
A weak but undeniably real air current began spiraling above the pages, stirring Kazama's bangs.
Meanwhile, in some unobservable dimensional gap...
Within a room decorated in Victorian English study aesthetics sat Clow Reed—a mage of unfathomable power—currently holding a teacup while observing the black Mokona-clutching witch across from him.
Suddenly, his teacup-holding hand froze mid-air.
Behind those reflective glasses, his narrow eyes displayed genuine astonishment for the first time.
Like a game master suddenly discovering someone had installed bizarre mods in the server backend.
"Oh my?"
He set down the cup, turning his head. His gaze seemed to pierce through layered universal barriers, focusing on distant, unfamiliar coordinates.
Just moments ago, a strange fluctuation had emanated from that direction.
Though extremely faint, he absolutely couldn't mistake it.
That signature belonged to his magical essence—the unique wavelength only his personally created "children" could emit.
But the problem was: that world didn't have any Clow Cards.
"What's wrong, you scheming glasses-wearing bastard?"
The witch across from him—Yuko Ichihara—raised an eyebrow.
"That expression... Did your reincarnated little Eriol cause trouble again? Or did something happen with Sakura?"
"No, not Eriol. Not Sakura either."
Clow Reed set down his teacup, releasing a soft laugh.
"Yuko, would you believe this? In a world where magical energy has nearly dried up completely, someone used a power I've never encountered to activate one of my Clow Cards."
"Oh?"
Yuko Ichihara's eyes narrowed, interest clearly piqued. Could someone besides Clow Reed actually create Clow Cards?
"You're saying someone used a counterfeit to manufacture the genuine article?"
"Not just that."
Clow Reed's long fingers tapped the void as if pressing a 'subscribe' button across dimensions.
"No contract signing, no magical inheritance transmission, the vessel itself was cheap printed merchandise—yet he granted The Windy genuine life. How fascinating... What's the source of this unreasonably domineering rule set?"
"Sounds like quite the variable."
Yuko sipped her wine, smiling enigmatically. "So what now? As the original creator, collecting copyright fees? Or intervening directly?"
"No, no, no. Intervention would ruin the entertainment."
Clow Reed retrieved his teacup, resuming his inscrutable fox-like demeanor.
"Since that child is working so hard performing magic tricks for me, as a senior practitioner, naturally I must properly appreciate the show from this VIP seat."
Yuko Ichihara scratched Mokona's head, delivering a precision roast:
"Bottom line—you just want to watch the chaos unfold."
"Hehe."
Clow Reed smiled without confirming or denying.
After all, eternal life was insufferably boring. Rarely did a wild newcomer manage to perplex him—this qualified as entertainment beyond price.
Back in Kamimizu City, inside the rental apartment...
Kazama Chiba remained oblivious that his recent action had earned him special attention from multiversal apex entities.
Currently, his complete focus remained on the card slowly floating up from the book pages.
The card named The Windy hadn't transformed to human size, maintaining its card form.
But it moved as if possessing self-awareness, manipulating winds to spiral gently around Kazama's fingertips—seemingly quite fond of him.