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 stung Russell's nerves like static. Then, suddenly—memories hit him 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 thanks to the AI art boom, he'd drowned himself in cheap liquor—then choked to death on his own vomit.
"What a pathetic way to die… Oh no—my hard drive. I didn't wipe my reference folders…"
Face pale, he tried not to think about what his friends or family might find. Not his problem anymore.
Now, his mind was filled with a different life. A different world.
This one was called Blue Star. It looked like Earth on the surface, but here, power came from an elite profession: Cardmaking.
At first, history had followed familiar patterns—until the event known as the Riftfall. Cracks tore open across the sky and land, connecting the world to violent, unknown dimensions teeming with monsters.
In the early chaos, a lone borderland warrior named Colin Stroud was pulled into one of the Rifts. Everyone assumed he was dead.
Instead, he came back—blood-soaked, triumphant, clutching the first Card anyone had ever seen.
And just like that, the world changed.
The once-crumbling empire known as the Old Dominion suddenly had an edge. Cardmaking became a new system of power, and over six centuries, the Dominion transformed into the world's dominant force.
Now, the royal family was just ceremonial. Real authority lay with the Imperial Council, and Cardmakers were the elite class.
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—who was preparing to become a Cardmaker. But unfortunately, that Russell had pulled one too many all-nighters studying and dropped dead from exhaustion.
And now?
He had a second shot. And a system built around something he loved.
"Please let this be a protagonist-type setup…"
He picked up the dusty Mythic Lore Compendium, Revised Edition 4.8. His heart leapt—until he started flipping pages.
"Wait… I don't know any of this crap."
He could name a few gods and monsters, but crafting myth-level cards required intense detail, matching story logic, and rank clearance. He had none of those.
"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 caught his eye:
"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, powers. All burned into his brain.
Maybe this wasn't a setback. Maybe it was a shortcut.
He kept reading the basics of card creation.
"Mental strength, material components, narrative structure, visual design…"
Of the four, mental energy was the one thing he didn't need to worry about. Maybe due to the transmigration, his current mental strength was already at Black Iron Rank—the starting tier for professional Cardmakers.
Still, the process wasn't easy. Cardmaking was brutal—demanding precision, creativity, and resources. But if you succeeded? You were treated like royalty.
He took a deep breath and focused. Time to deal with his new life's mess.
"Loan debt… perfect."
According to the original memories, his parents had died during a Rift invasion. All they'd left behind was this old house and barely enough money to get him through high school.
So, to fund his training, Russell had done the only thing he could—he took out a loan.
100,000 credits. If he didn't repay it within a month, the house would be seized by the debt corp.
"High-stakes tutorial level. Great."
But there was a silver lining: if he managed to become a certified Cardmaker, Nova Eden First Academy would award him a 150,000-credit scholarship.
Enough to clear his debt and cover college.
But if he failed?
"I'll be homeless before midterms."
Time was ticking.
Russell powered up his battered old PC and logged into the official Cardmaker Association Material Exchange—an online marketplace tied to your crafting rank.
As a Black Iron novice, his access was limited 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 against the desk. He needed to build a working card—and fast.
Suddenly, a spark lit in his eyes.
"I think I've got it."
He added the following to his cart:
Elite Swordsman (Blue)
Avenging Shade (Green)
Katana (Green)
Blank Card Template
The total came to 92,500 credits. Painful—but within budget.
He gritted his teeth and clicked Confirm Purchase.
"Let's go. All or nothing."
A strange emptiness washed over him as the transaction processed. He leaned back and closed his eyes, mentally preparing for what came next.
Half an hour later—
Tap. Tap. Tap.
A snow-white delivery bird with a comically oversized head was pecking at the window. It had a small messenger bag strapped across its chest.
"Wait… what the hell is that?"
A CooCoo Courier, according to memory. A White-tier Black Iron-class support creature, commonly used for intra-city deliveries.
Russell opened the window. The bird plucked an envelope from its satchel and held it out with its beak.
Then it pecked a small button on its bag.
"Please confirm the delivery," said a chipper female voice.
Russell opened the envelope and checked the contents:
Elite Swordsman (Blue)
Avenging Shade (Green)
Katana (Green)
Blank Card Template
"Yup, that's everything," he said, giving the bird a nod.
He reached out to pat its head—but the bird jumped back, eyes wide, and pecked a second button.
"Please do not touch delivery personnel during active hours."
With a huff, the bird flapped away into the sky.
Russell watched it vanish over the rooftops, a small smile tugging at his lips.
He had seen it now—magic, power, real cards in motion.
This wasn't a dream. This was his new reality.
"Alright then…" he whispered, turning back to his desk.
"Let's make my first anime card."