Fairy Tail: Becoming stronger by spending money.

"What does the Philosopher's Stone do?"

"Offset the cost of equivalent exchange."

"So how do you use it to better develop the greater role of the Philosopher's Stone?"

"When the protagonist card is promoted to the gold card, the entry absorption module is turned on. According to the best combination, when the protagonist card is promoted to the gold card, all three hundred gold cards can be chosen as alchemist cards to absorb alchemy entries. Then, carry the Philosopher's Stone to ensure that it is 100% integrated into the protagonist card, so that the full effect of the Philosopher's Stone can be exerted."

"What about Bengyu?"

"When the protagonist card is promoted to the gold card, open the entry. All death or hollow cards must carry Bengyu to ensure that its full effect can be exerted."

After asking those questions, Caesar realized something.

The new addition to this broken game wasn't some self-aware AI.

It was just an answering module—a glorified chatbot, really—that could respond to some of his questions.

It was mechanical, emotionless, and completely useless for anything not stored in its preset responses.

Still, for Caesar, this was a massive improvement.

At least now he didn't have to stumble blindly through the game anymore. He could finally start forming a reliable path forward based on some actual information.

"How did you even come out?"

Caesar asked without much hope, but the electronic voice unexpectedly replied.

"If you recharge 300 million spirit stones, you can start one-on-one consultation services."

". . . So if you don't top up, you don't even show up?"

Silence.

Typical.

Despite his irritation, Caesar went ahead and asked every question he had stored in his mind.

If nothing else, this answering system never lost patience, never glitched, and could repeat answers with perfect clarity.

It was robotic—but obedient.

From the responses, Caesar confirmed that his early assumptions were largely correct.

For one, promoting the protagonist card unlocked new functions.

When he advanced to the purple card, three deck formations were unlocked:

First formation: +10% card attributes.

Second formation: +5% card attributes.

Third formation: +1% card attributes.

He could change formation order at will, and even rearrange characters within them.

However, positioning now mattered—tanks needed to be in the front, and damage dealers and healers in the back.

If a unit wasn't in the right position, it wouldn't get the attribute bonus.

But Caesar didn't care much about this. His main combat strategy was still take over magic, and these stat bonuses weren't a big deal to him.

The real power came when the purple card evolved into gold. That unlocked the entry absorption module, allowing him to permanently integrate one entry and one prop.

Then, once it became a red card, another entry and prop could be absorbed.

Two total entries. Two total props.

So every choice mattered.

He'd have to carefully gather cards with matching attributes and useful entries.

Otherwise, the chance of getting the effect he wanted would drop to zero.

Not every card dropped an entry.

Sometimes you could break dozens of them and get nothing.

If your pool of cards was too mixed, you'd be left with garbage results.

That's why the game itself recommended sticking to similar cards and props to increase the drop rate for entries and items.

Caesar knew this.

He'd played long enough to know this broken game loved trolling players.

You could prepare 99% of everything needed, and that 1% chance would still screw you.

In the end, it was all about one thing: krypton gold.

Money.

"Three hundred gold cards. To really get the full benefit, I'd need 300 Philosopher's Stones or 300 Bengyu-carrying cards. That's insane."

Caesar thought back on the over 300 million spirit stones he'd spent so far. He'd only ever pulled Merlin once.

The Philosopher's Stone and Bengyu? Just one each.

Now he felt the crushing weight of what lay ahead.

Just then, the game's interface popped up with a flashy announcement:

"Limited-time props are back! Increased 10% draw chance! First draw guaranteed hit!"

Caesar closed it instantly without even blinking.

He already knew this game's rifted personality.

It was all a scam.

Besides, he was still far from gold-tier. No need to rush.

And that wasn't even the end of it.

Promoting to red card?

That required 100 red cards.

If Caesar wanted to permanently integrate infinite magic power from Merlin, he'd need 100 red Merlins.

Suddenly, the Philosopher's Stone and Bengyu felt like cheap bonuses in comparison.

Infinite magic power was the true prize.

With that, he could make any card overpowered.

Even pairing with someone like Megumin—just raw magic spam—and Caesar could destroy a planet in one shot.

Imagine Escanor.

Jiro.

Kakarot.

Saitama.

Any of them, backed by infinite magic.

Caesar, as a red-tier protagonist card with the right modules and entries, would become literally invincible.

The god of take over magic.

But...

Level 40 was needed for purple.

Level 50 for gold.

Level 60 for red.

That meant 800 purple cards, 300 gold cards, and 100 red cards to evolve the protagonist card.

Caesar could already see the future: broke.

Even if this broken game played along, the cost would be in the trillions.

He'd heard rumors that because of him, some mint factories had been working overtime to print j nonstop.

Was he ruining the economy?

Not really.

Most of the money was digital.

And besides, it was mostly spirit stones anyway. His actual spending wasn't that ridiculous.

You could even say he was doing the nation a favor by recycling old coins for them.

After a full night of planning his future, Caesar stood and looked out at the rising sun shining on the Fairy Tail guild hall.

He smiled.

There hadn't been any material gains, but he'd cleared up years of confusion.

He now had a direct path forward.

From blindly guessing to full clarity.

That alone was a huge upgrade.

Even cards he hadn't dared to use before were now looking doable.

The Black Dragon?

Just a glorified lizard.

The Curse of Death?

Was that supposed to scare him?

He'd love to drag it out and see which was stronger: the God of Death or his own God of Destruction.

And if all else failed?

Well, he could always call up Zeno.