This was too much of a coincidence. One second, he wanted to be stronger. The next second, he actually pulled an A-rank daily disposable persona card?
Zong Yan was stunned.
This was the first time he’d directly drawn an A-rank card.
Needless to say, Zong Yan was excruciatingly aware of how low the odds of drawing this card were.
His superpower was closely bound to the San value. For example, every time he drew a card, it would consume a certain amount of San points.
Using a daily disposable persona card also consumed San. The difference was that drawing a persona card deducted San only once, while activating a persona card deducted San once per use.
Zong Yan didn’t know exactly what San value was. He interpreted it a bit crudely as spiritual power.
His San value wasn’t that high, only 40 points.
In the past, when the world around Zong Yan was peaceful, he liked to draw cards every day. Every time he left only a little San value, strolling along the edge of danger.
As for why he left a little, it was because intuition told him he shouldn’t let the San value hit zero, otherwise there was a good chance something bad would happen.
The recovery speed of San value wasn’t that fast either. Up to now, Zong Yan could recover no more than a dozen points a day, which was equivalent to drawing one card per day if there were no other urgent needs.
Zong Yan had synthesized his only A-rank Child of the Wind card. Just think about it—after drawing cards for so many years, only this one time did he actually get an A-rank card. Even if a blind cat was hunting a dead mouse, it wouldn’t be this bad.
To sum up, it was all because the probability of getting a high-level card was so low.
If there was an actual card drawing game with the same odds, the designer would be beaten to death.
So—what was this card?
Zong Yan suppressed his inner excitement as he slowly turned over the card.
Just like the Child of the Wind, the edges of the card shimmered with streamers of light, casting bright colors around the dimly lit room.
The person on the card had long, lifeless gray hair and a high-brimmed hat of the same color. His excess long hair was tied up with a dark green ribbon and draped over his chest.
On his feet were heavy Martin boots. Pale knuckles grasped a black umbrella, and the dark hem of his trench coat seemed to obliterate every source of light, like he walked the border between light and darkness, the embodiment of shadow.
But the most compelling thing wasn’t the solid gold pocket watch drawn on the card or the unpredictable smile on the figure’s face. What attracted Zong Yan the most was the black crow that rested on his shoulder.
The whole body of the crow was connected to the darkness. Its eyes were scarlet, the same as the man on the card, and a bizarrely pointed mask was attached to the bird’s face. It was clearly wearing the famous plague doctor beaked mask used in medieval times.
“A messenger of death…” Zong Yan muttered to himself.
Crows had long been a symbol of uncertainty and doom. They were said to carry death tidings to the unwary.
The card gave off a depressing, morbid feeling. Zong Yan looked at the smile on his own face depicted on the card and felt an inexplicable sense of caution.
The smile looked like it belonged to a villain. He wondered if his personality would become strange when he used this card.
He turned the card over and saw a line of fine print at the bottom.
【The San consumption value is halved when the persona card is used at night and doubled during the day】
It was the first time he’d seen a card with additional instructions.
After turning the card around over and over and studying it closely, Zong Yan put it back into the space gap. He threw back the quilt, jumped out of bed, opened his school bag, and began to pack his things.
After he explained about the black leather manuscript to the Dragon Group, an agent went to retrieve his school bag.
Of course, the manuscript inside was handed in on the grounds that it was “very dangerous and not recommended for a high school student”.
What was wrong with a high school student? An ordinary high school student could become a Monarch-level as soon as he woke up.
Zong Yan opened the nearly empty wardrobe, folded a few T-shirts and school uniforms, and tucked them into his school bag.
Zong Yan didn’t have many things. Apart from those old borrowed books, everything he owned could probably fit into this one bag.
… Unless he included his summer homework.
Those god-awful agents of the Dragon Group made a trip to Qingyang High School and brought back the summer homework that was on his desk.
He had to go to college and do his summer homework for high school too—there really was no justice under heaven.
When he finished straightening up, he ran back to the bed, knelt on the floor, pulled out a small iron box from under the bed, and stuffed it into his bag.
“Meow—”
As Zong Yan was absorbed in packing, he suddenly heard the quiet sound of a cat outside the window.
A cat?
The neighborhood was basically a slum. People could hardly feed themselves, so cats and dogs were rare. If you turned over the garbage cans you wouldn’t find many scraps. Stray cats and dogs eventually ran away. They rarely ventured into the area.
Zong Yan stood up and walked over to the window, pulling back the black window screen to look out.
Outside, the moonlight was very cold, gleaming down from the depths of the clouds, draping a veil of pale light over the dilapidated eaves.
On the concrete surface of the opposite roof, a dark shadow crouched quietly on the ground.
It was a black cat.
Zong Yan was a bit surprised. Turning away, he grabbed the old newspaper on the table. He wanted to break off a little piece of the steamed bun and throw it over.
But by the time he returned to the windowsill, the roof across the way was empty. The black cat was already gone.
“Strange, it’s the middle of the night…”
Zong Yan stood by the window for a while, but he never saw another sign of the black cat.
The hour hand slowly crept toward twelve.
The summer night’s wind brought some coolness. Zong Yan hesitated for a moment, then threw a small piece of steamed bread through the air. Only then did he pull the window closed and lie back in bed.
It was a night without dreams.
—
Zong Yan got up early the next morning. Before dawn, he grabbed his school bag and took a bus to a cemetery on the outskirts of Jiangzhou.
The cemetery he traveled to was a long way from the city center. He had to change buses several times. It took hours to get there and back.
Rich people might be able to find their rest within a bustling city after death, but for people without money, it was good just to occupy a piece of land.
Before he left, Zong Yan looked out the window.
The torn piece of steamed bun was still lying quietly on the concrete floor opposite, surrounded by dark traces of rain.
It must have rained late last night. He didn’t know if the cat got wet.
He pulled out his keys, locked the door, and crept down the stairs without disturbing anyone who was still sleeping.
By the time Zong Yan returned, it was a bit after ten o’clock.
“Sorry, there was a little weekend traffic. I made you wait.”
The Dragon Group’s car arrived as promised, parked in front of the building.
The black body presented an extremely eye-catching, streamlined shape. The trident logo on the front shone proudly, completely incompatible with the street around it, where garbage was piled up on the corners. People passing by couldn’t help but stare.
“Get in.”
The glass of the car window lowered, revealing half a man’s face wearing black sunglasses. Even with just this fraction of a face, there was a strong aura of impatience.
“Ah, okay.”
Zong Yan thought He Yuan would come to pick him up. He didn’t expect to find the captain of the Dragon Group waiting for him.
But it was indeed true that he was late, so Zong Yan responded very properly, pulled open one of the rear doors and got in.
When he sat down, the car didn’t start immediately.
The man’s voice suddenly sounded in the car.
“Not saying goodbye?”
Si Yan had actually arrived a long time ago.
Originally, none of this had anything to do with him. But He Yuan and the logistics team were going to prepare the new Monarch’s file and conduct a systematic evaluation today. So in the end, the honor of this glorious task fell on the captain of Team 7, who happened to be free on vacation.
Yesterday Si Yan had planned to stay inside all day and play video games in his apartment. But as it turned out, he was awoken by a phone call first thing in the morning. He was so annoyed he almost punched through the door of his father’s command room with a slap of his hand.
Waking people up at seven in the morning, hell of a vacation!
With a dark face Si Yan whooshed the car along the navigation route to get here. After waiting half an hour, he suddenly received a text message from He Yuan who’d just woken up, saying the appointment actually wasn’t until ten o’clock.
Si Yan’s heart filled with murder.
What annoyed him even more was that after he parked the car there was an endless stream of gawkers. An old grandfather came forward and questioned him.
Si Yan had a bad temper, but he would slightly restrain himself in the face of his elders. Please note that his father Si Xun wasn’t included in this category.
And when the old man heard he was looking for Zong Yan, he hooted and hollered, and a group of grandparents who’d been playing mahjong outside gathered around Si Yan. They all said enthusiastically, “Oh, you must be the class teacher. Teacher, please take good care of our Little Yan at summer camp. Little Yan is a good child.”
Si Yan: …?
This scene was more difficult to deal with than a fight with an otherworldly beast.
“It’s okay.” Zong Yan thought it was because he wasn’t wearing his seat belt. “I said goodbye to them yesterday.”
Zong Yan mentioned his news last night when went from house to house carrying water. He gave himself the perfect excuse—attending summer camp.
As one of the most famous and prestigious high schools in Jiangzhou, Qingyang High School had a tradition of summer trips.
The year before last, the school’s teachers led a summer exchange program with Liwei high school in Singapore. Last year, they went to the western Gold Coast of the United States to do a marine biology survey. This year, it was said they were joining the top students of the orchestra department of Jiangzhou College of Music next door to go to Vienna to experience the local customs and traditions of world music.
Of course, summer camp wasn’t free. You had to pay a significant fee to participate in each program.
Every year after the head teacher handed out summer camp flyers, it would become the center of conversation for the next few days.
Although Qingyang High School was a rigorous school, it was also part of human society, and status seeking was a constant.
When class ended, students huddled together to chat. Zong Yan was sitting in the last row and faintly heard the conversation at the front of the classroom.
“Ye Ge’s new sneakers are too much!”
“You have a good eye. My uncle brought them back from the United States a few days ago. James even signed them. Here, let me show you.”
From a distance, through the gaps in the crowd, Ye JingMing could be seen putting his feet on the desk. Onlookers crowded around, exclaiming one after another with an outpouring of awe.
What high school boys didn’t like to play basketball? James, Kobe, Magic Johnson… They were all familiar names when the boys sneaked out of class to watch NBA Live on their phones. Along with shoes and jerseys, they were a focus of attention.
But it was like Zong Yan had never heard of any of these things. His pen crossed over to a math question and easily solved a complex equation.
“Ye Ge, did you sign up for summer camp this year?”
“No, I’ve been to Vienna before and it’s not that great. This year I’m going skiing in the Alps. All the tickets have been booked. First class on Austrian Airlines!”
The other student paused and suddenly whispered in a low voice, “But… I heard Xia KeYan signed up this year.”
After that, Zong Yan stopped paying attention. He’d reached the most complicated part of the equation, mentally calculating several series of numbers simultaneously. He didn’t have time to pay attention to a world that was a stone’s throw away but completely separate from him.
Things like summer camp had nothing to do with his life.
Zong Yan had no friends in his class and no acquaintances at school. No one asked if he was going to summer camp. They tacitly acknowledged that he wasn’t sociable, thinking he was mysterious and silent. In fact, Zong Yan just didn’t want to get involved with people who belonged to a totally different world.
Although he’d roamed around the entire world in books, in reality he’d never set foot outside Jiangzhou.
Sometimes, when he got back from summer break and listened to his classmates talk about their holidays—going to London for afternoon tea, viewing cherry blossoms in Hokkaido, going to the Kremlin to watch the parade—he sat quietly in solitude in the back of the classroom and solved equations no one else could understand.
Maybe there was a moment of envy, but it was buried deep inside his heart.
“Your room.”
With a stern face, Si Yan drove the car over to the Dragon Group building. After he unlocked the special elevator, he took Zong Yan directly to the apartment upstairs.
“The door lock has facial recognition. You can set it up yourself by inputting your fingerprint.”
With these words, the captain of Team 7 walked to the opposite door. Suddenly, as if remembering something, he took out a card from his pocket and tossed it over.
“Take this. The Dragon Group gives an allowance to minors.”
An allowance for minors? Why didn’t he remember He Yuan mention that?
Zong Yan hurriedly caught the card and asked, “When will I go to Miskatonic University…?”
Si Yan impatiently took off his sunglasses and hung them by the door. “That’s none of my business. Wait for that He Yuan guy to notify you.”
A moment later there was the sound of a door slamming in the corridor.
—
The author has something to say:
In this story, San value = mental power. If the value goes to zero or negative, bad things can happen
This doesn’t match the usual campaign setting ha
TL Notes:
excruciatingly aware – 令人痛心 – cut to the heart, hurt to think about it, distressed
This was too much of a coincidence. One second, he wanted to be stronger. The next second, he actually pulled an A-rank daily disposable persona card?
Zong Yan was stunned.
This was the first time he’d directly drawn an A-rank card.
Needless to say, Zong Yan was excruciatingly aware of how low the odds of drawing this card were.
His superpower was closely bound to the San value. For example, every time he drew a card, it would consume a certain amount of San points.
Using a daily disposable persona card also consumed San. The difference was that drawing a persona card deducted San only once, while activating a persona card deducted San once per use.
Zong Yan didn’t know exactly what San value was. He interpreted it a bit crudely as spiritual power.
His San value wasn’t that high, only 40 points.
In the past, when the world around Zong Yan was peaceful, he liked to draw cards every day. Every time he left only a little San value, strolling along the edge of danger.
As for why he left a little, it was because intuition told him he shouldn’t let the San value hit zero, otherwise there was a good chance something bad would happen.
The recovery speed of San value wasn’t that fast either. Up to now, Zong Yan could recover no more than a dozen points a day, which was equivalent to drawing one card per day if there were no other urgent needs.
Zong Yan had synthesized his only A-rank Child of the Wind card. Just think about it—after drawing cards for so many years, only this one time did he actually get an A-rank card. Even if a blind cat was hunting a dead mouse, it wouldn’t be this bad.
To sum up, it was all because the probability of getting a high-level card was so low.
If there was an actual card drawing game with the same odds, the designer would be beaten to death.
So—what was this card?
Zong Yan suppressed his inner excitement as he slowly turned over the card.
Just like the Child of the Wind, the edges of the card shimmered with streamers of light, casting bright colors around the dimly lit room.
The person on the card had long, lifeless gray hair and a high-brimmed hat of the same color. His excess long hair was tied up with a dark green ribbon and draped over his chest.
On his feet were heavy Martin boots. Pale knuckles grasped a black umbrella, and the dark hem of his trench coat seemed to obliterate every source of light, like he walked the border between light and darkness, the embodiment of shadow.
But the most compelling thing wasn’t the solid gold pocket watch drawn on the card or the unpredictable smile on the figure’s face. What attracted Zong Yan the most was the black crow that rested on his shoulder.
The whole body of the crow was connected to the darkness. Its eyes were scarlet, the same as the man on the card, and a bizarrely pointed mask was attached to the bird’s face. It was clearly wearing the famous plague doctor beaked mask used in medieval times.
“A messenger of death…” Zong Yan muttered to himself.
Crows had long been a symbol of uncertainty and doom. They were said to carry death tidings to the unwary.
The card gave off a depressing, morbid feeling. Zong Yan looked at the smile on his own face depicted on the card and felt an inexplicable sense of caution.
The smile looked like it belonged to a villain. He wondered if his personality would become strange when he used this card.
He turned the card over and saw a line of fine print at the bottom.
【The San consumption value is halved when the persona card is used at night and doubled during the day】
It was the first time he’d seen a card with additional instructions.
After turning the card around over and over and studying it closely, Zong Yan put it back into the space gap. He threw back the quilt, jumped out of bed, opened his school bag, and began to pack his things.
After he explained about the black leather manuscript to the Dragon Group, an agent went to retrieve his school bag.
Of course, the manuscript inside was handed in on the grounds that it was “very dangerous and not recommended for a high school student”.
What was wrong with a high school student? An ordinary high school student could become a Monarch-level as soon as he woke up.
Zong Yan opened the nearly empty wardrobe, folded a few T-shirts and school uniforms, and tucked them into his school bag.
Zong Yan didn’t have many things. Apart from those old borrowed books, everything he owned could probably fit into this one bag.
… Unless he included his summer homework.
Those god-awful agents of the Dragon Group made a trip to Qingyang High School and brought back the summer homework that was on his desk.
He had to go to college and do his summer homework for high school too—there really was no justice under heaven.
When he finished straightening up, he ran back to the bed, knelt on the floor, pulled out a small iron box from under the bed, and stuffed it into his bag.
“Meow—”
As Zong Yan was absorbed in packing, he suddenly heard the quiet sound of a cat outside the window.
A cat?
The neighborhood was basically a slum. People could hardly feed themselves, so cats and dogs were rare. If you turned over the garbage cans you wouldn’t find many scraps. Stray cats and dogs eventually ran away. They rarely ventured into the area.
Zong Yan stood up and walked over to the window, pulling back the black window screen to look out.
Outside, the moonlight was very cold, gleaming down from the depths of the clouds, draping a veil of pale light over the dilapidated eaves.
On the concrete surface of the opposite roof, a dark shadow crouched quietly on the ground.
It was a black cat.
Zong Yan was a bit surprised. Turning away, he grabbed the old newspaper on the table. He wanted to break off a little piece of the steamed bun and throw it over.
But by the time he returned to the windowsill, the roof across the way was empty. The black cat was already gone.
“Strange, it’s the middle of the night…”
Zong Yan stood by the window for a while, but he never saw another sign of the black cat.
The hour hand slowly crept toward twelve.
The summer night’s wind brought some coolness. Zong Yan hesitated for a moment, then threw a small piece of steamed bread through the air. Only then did he pull the window closed and lie back in bed.
It was a night without dreams.
—
Zong Yan got up early the next morning. Before dawn, he grabbed his school bag and took a bus to a cemetery on the outskirts of Jiangzhou.
The cemetery he traveled to was a long way from the city center. He had to change buses several times. It took hours to get there and back.
Rich people might be able to find their rest within a bustling city after death, but for people without money, it was good just to occupy a piece of land.
Before he left, Zong Yan looked out the window.
The torn piece of steamed bun was still lying quietly on the concrete floor opposite, surrounded by dark traces of rain.
It must have rained late last night. He didn’t know if the cat got wet.
He pulled out his keys, locked the door, and crept down the stairs without disturbing anyone who was still sleeping.
By the time Zong Yan returned, it was a bit after ten o’clock.
“Sorry, there was a little weekend traffic. I made you wait.”
The Dragon Group’s car arrived as promised, parked in front of the building.
The black body presented an extremely eye-catching, streamlined shape. The trident logo on the front shone proudly, completely incompatible with the street around it, where garbage was piled up on the corners. People passing by couldn’t help but stare.
“Get in.”
The glass of the car window lowered, revealing half a man’s face wearing black sunglasses. Even with just this fraction of a face, there was a strong aura of impatience.
“Ah, okay.”
Zong Yan thought He Yuan would come to pick him up. He didn’t expect to find the captain of the Dragon Group waiting for him.
But it was indeed true that he was late, so Zong Yan responded very properly, pulled open one of the rear doors and got in.
When he sat down, the car didn’t start immediately.
The man’s voice suddenly sounded in the car.
“Not saying goodbye?”
Si Yan had actually arrived a long time ago.
Originally, none of this had anything to do with him. But He Yuan and the logistics team were going to prepare the new Monarch’s file and conduct a systematic evaluation today. So in the end, the honor of this glorious task fell on the captain of Team 7, who happened to be free on vacation.
Yesterday Si Yan had planned to stay inside all day and play video games in his apartment. But as it turned out, he was awoken by a phone call first thing in the morning. He was so annoyed he almost punched through the door of his father’s command room with a slap of his hand.
Waking people up at seven in the morning, hell of a vacation!
With a dark face Si Yan whooshed the car along the navigation route to get here. After waiting half an hour, he suddenly received a text message from He Yuan who’d just woken up, saying the appointment actually wasn’t until ten o’clock.
Si Yan’s heart filled with murder.
What annoyed him even more was that after he parked the car there was an endless stream of gawkers. An old grandfather came forward and questioned him.
Si Yan had a bad temper, but he would slightly restrain himself in the face of his elders. Please note that his father Si Xun wasn’t included in this category.
And when the old man heard he was looking for Zong Yan, he hooted and hollered, and a group of grandparents who’d been playing mahjong outside gathered around Si Yan. They all said enthusiastically, “Oh, you must be the class teacher. Teacher, please take good care of our Little Yan at summer camp. Little Yan is a good child.”
Si Yan: …?
This scene was more difficult to deal with than a fight with an otherworldly beast.
“It’s okay.” Zong Yan thought it was because he wasn’t wearing his seat belt. “I said goodbye to them yesterday.”
Zong Yan mentioned his news last night when went from house to house carrying water. He gave himself the perfect excuse—attending summer camp.
As one of the most famous and prestigious high schools in Jiangzhou, Qingyang High School had a tradition of summer trips.
The year before last, the school’s teachers led a summer exchange program with Liwei high school in Singapore. Last year, they went to the western Gold Coast of the United States to do a marine biology survey. This year, it was said they were joining the top students of the orchestra department of Jiangzhou College of Music next door to go to Vienna to experience the local customs and traditions of world music.
Of course, summer camp wasn’t free. You had to pay a significant fee to participate in each program.
Every year after the head teacher handed out summer camp flyers, it would become the center of conversation for the next few days.
Although Qingyang High School was a rigorous school, it was also part of human society, and status seeking was a constant.
When class ended, students huddled together to chat. Zong Yan was sitting in the last row and faintly heard the conversation at the front of the classroom.
“Ye Ge’s new sneakers are too much!”
“You have a good eye. My uncle brought them back from the United States a few days ago. James even signed them. Here, let me show you.”
From a distance, through the gaps in the crowd, Ye JingMing could be seen putting his feet on the desk. Onlookers crowded around, exclaiming one after another with an outpouring of awe.
What high school boys didn’t like to play basketball? James, Kobe, Magic Johnson… They were all familiar names when the boys sneaked out of class to watch NBA Live on their phones. Along with shoes and jerseys, they were a focus of attention.
But it was like Zong Yan had never heard of any of these things. His pen crossed over to a math question and easily solved a complex equation.
“Ye Ge, did you sign up for summer camp this year?”
“No, I’ve been to Vienna before and it’s not that great. This year I’m going skiing in the Alps. All the tickets have been booked. First class on Austrian Airlines!”
The other student paused and suddenly whispered in a low voice, “But… I heard Xia KeYan signed up this year.”
After that, Zong Yan stopped paying attention. He’d reached the most complicated part of the equation, mentally calculating several series of numbers simultaneously. He didn’t have time to pay attention to a world that was a stone’s throw away but completely separate from him.
Things like summer camp had nothing to do with his life.
Zong Yan had no friends in his class and no acquaintances at school. No one asked if he was going to summer camp. They tacitly acknowledged that he wasn’t sociable, thinking he was mysterious and silent. In fact, Zong Yan just didn’t want to get involved with people who belonged to a totally different world.
Although he’d roamed around the entire world in books, in reality he’d never set foot outside Jiangzhou.
Sometimes, when he got back from summer break and listened to his classmates talk about their holidays—going to London for afternoon tea, viewing cherry blossoms in Hokkaido, going to the Kremlin to watch the parade—he sat quietly in solitude in the back of the classroom and solved equations no one else could understand.
Maybe there was a moment of envy, but it was buried deep inside his heart.
“Your room.”
With a stern face, Si Yan drove the car over to the Dragon Group building. After he unlocked the special elevator, he took Zong Yan directly to the apartment upstairs.
“The door lock has facial recognition. You can set it up yourself by inputting your fingerprint.”
With these words, the captain of Team 7 walked to the opposite door. Suddenly, as if remembering something, he took out a card from his pocket and tossed it over.
“Take this. The Dragon Group gives an allowance to minors.”
An allowance for minors? Why didn’t he remember He Yuan mention that?
Zong Yan hurriedly caught the card and asked, “When will I go to Miskatonic University…?”
Si Yan impatiently took off his sunglasses and hung them by the door. “That’s none of my business. Wait for that He Yuan guy to notify you.”
A moment later there was the sound of a door slamming in the corridor.
—
The author has something to say:
In this story, San value = mental power. If the value goes to zero or negative, bad things can happen
This doesn’t match the usual campaign setting ha
TL Notes:
excruciatingly aware – 令人痛心 – cut to the heart, hurt to think about it, distressed
