Miracle Card Shop: All My Cards Can Be Actualize

"Oh? You think the gods see you as anything that worth risking their wellbeing to help? How naive," Albert said with disdain.

"Listen to me, gods don't see mortals as human beings. They see us as resources to exploit, mere tools of convenience. If the tool is worthwhile, or if you're a god's favorite toy, then maybe they'll save you. Otherwise, don't count on their loyalty—especially not the Greek gods," Albert continued, pulling the patriarch up and forcing him to sit on a large piece of debris nearby.

He then dragged a wooden box over, placing it in front of the patriarch before laying a soul-binding contract on top.

"Read and sign, or else your entire family will have the chance to meet your god," Albert said, gesturing toward the main building that was engulfed in flames.

"What… what did you do!?" the patriarch asked, his voice trembling as he looked at Albert.

"Nothing much, just using hostages," Albert answered nonchalantly.

"You despicable..." The patriarch tried to curse, but Albert silenced him with a spell, cutting off his words.

"Yes, yes, I know, I'm despicable, scum, and all that. Nothing new. But here's the gist," Albert said, turning toward the patriarch. He set up another wooden box and sat down opposite him, face to face.

"Unlike the usual approach, we believe in a strict order of the stick and the carrot. We may force your hand, but we'll also give you something worthwhile in return," Albert said, pulling another page of the contract from his suit pocket and placing it in front of the patriarch.

"By following our will, you'll receive the items on this list in exchange for your cooperation," Albert said, pushing the paper toward the patriarch.

The patriarch picked up the paper and began scrutinizing its contents.

"Of course, if you refuse, we'll take what we want by force—after you witness the death of your family. Don't think I have no way to make you comply even after you die. In fact, I could do that right now, but it doesn't align with our principles.

And if my master were to find out I was too heavy-handed, it wouldn't be good for my future career," Albert explained while waiting for the patriarch to finish reading.

The patriarch examined the contract, surprise crossing his face, then disbelief, followed by suspicion. He cast a light spell to verify if the contract was genuine, and indeed, it was binding.

"Are you serious?" the patriarch asked.

"Of course. Do you think I'm not serious enough?" Albert replied nonchalantly, gesturing toward the burning house in the background—the main building of the Kamini estate, where the patriarch's family was staying.

"I mean..." The patriarch gritted his teeth. [This damn asshole… I know you means business, alright!?]

The patriarch thought in frustration before continuing, "The things you've written on this paper—will they actually be mine if I transfer the land deed under your master's name?"

"Of course, Patriarch. Aside from the conditions outlined in the paper, there are no other strings attached," Albert replied.

Hearing this, the patriarch immediately reviewed the contract once more to ensure he hadn't overlooked anything.

The contract was detailed, mostly to prevent any foul play or loopholes, but aside from that, the items listed were extraordinary. In addition to the payment in Origold, the contract promised priceless magical ores: 1,000 kg of Orichalcum, 500 kg of Mithril, and, most notably, 100 kg of Adamantine.

These quantities were enough to drive someone to kill. Most importantly, the adamantine—how had Daniel Emberweave managed to procure this rare ore? The patriarch knew, as a descendant of Hephaestus's servants, just how scarce adamantine was. To this day, no more than 3 tons of adamantine had ever appeared on the market, and the only mine on Earth that had it was strictly controlled by the Hightower.

Maybe the rumor that Daniel Emberweave had plundered an entire hell realm was true after all.

The patriarch pondered this before deciding to sign and transfer the land deed that Albert's master wanted.
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"By the way, why didn't you tell me you were offering such a generous price? If you had, it wouldn't have been so hard to convince me," the patriarch complained as he handed the signed contract to Albert.

"Oh? But according to the report, I remember you telling my representative that you wouldn't sell the land deed to us no matter the cost, and that the price you wanted was beyond what we could pay," Albert replied, quoting the words from the report he'd received from the representative sent to negotiate with the patriarch.

"Err… That…" The patriarch stuttered. He did remember saying that, but at the time, he hadn't realized that Astral Corp would be able to pay such a generous price. The promise of so much adamantine nearly made him want to swear allegiance to Astral Corp on the spot.

As a mage from a blacksmithing family, this offer was enough to buy his loyalty. The power of an artifact largely comes from the materials used to forge it, and with this much material, he and his descendants could create many masterpieces.

Yes, these days, many mages were interested in the artifacts from Astral Corp's workshop because of their quality. But the only deterrent for most mages was the contract that bound buyers not to use Astral Corp artifacts against the company's interests.

That's where people like him came in. Even though his artifacts could never compete with those from Astral Corp, his workshop's products were still among the top ten in the Curtained World. So many mages who didn't want to be bound by Astral Corp's contract chose to buy from him instead.

At that moment, both Albert and the patriarch sensed a surge of magic. They turned toward the source and saw a man standing nearby, dressed in white robes trimmed with gold.

The man was none other than Golden Scale. His hood obscured all his facial features, leaving only shadows to cover his face.

"Lord Worsley, why are you here?" Golden Scale asked, his voice magically distorted.

"And who are you?" Albert responded, not recognizing Golden Scale. The Grand Councilor who held the seat of the Golden Scale faction and upheld the law back when Albert was alive was not this man.

"You can call me Golden Scale. I'm the current head of the Golden Scale faction, one of the three Grand Councilors of the Hightower, and the highest authority in the Hightower at present," Golden Scale introduced himself.

"So… you're the one who betrayed Lady Envy, according to the reports," Albert remarked, his only impression of Golden Scale was that of a betrayer—nothing more, nothing less.

"Why are you here?" Golden Scale asked in an arrogant tone.

Albert chuckled. This boy thought that just being a Grand Councilor and the head of the Golden Scale, the faction commanding the Hightower enforcers, meant anything to him?

"You don't need to worry about that, boy. I've finished my business here and will be leaving shortly," Albert said as he pocketed the signed land deed and stood up. His business here was concluded.

"This is the last time I'm asking you politely, Lord Worsley. Why are you here?" Golden Scale asked again, but Albert didn't respond. Instead, he waved dismissively at Golden Scale.

"Goodbye," Albert said. But as he turned his back on Golden Scale, he sensed danger and quickly dodged to the side.

Slash!

The ground where he had stood just moments ago was sliced cleanly into pieces, as if by hundreds of precise cutting tools. Albert felt a slight fluctuation of mana, but it wasn't powerful enough to have forced such a clean cut in the concrete.

He looked toward Golden Scale, who appeared indifferent, his eyes cold. Albert knew what had just happened. It was a simple reality cut, achieved by creating a tiny gap in reality itself. The cut could slice through anything that existed in the current reality. This information had been included in the report on Golden Scale.

A sadistic glint flashed briefly in Albert's eyes, quickly hidden behind the guise of a noble demeanor. "You started this. Even if I were to torture you to death, his lordship wouldn't be able to blame me! Kill him!"

With a single command, several magical bullets streaked through the air, rushing toward Golden Scale.

Clank! Clank! Crack!

But suddenly, cracks like shattered glass appeared in the air, as if an invisible mirror protected Golden Scale, blocking all the bullets aimed at him.

"Reality shield? Impressive," Albert muttered with a hint of surprise. From the information provided by Envy, he knew Golden Scale possessed the Reality Origin Element, but he hadn't known this man could use a reality shield so easily. It wasn't magic that could be wielded effortlessly.

The one who fired all those magical bullets was Billy the Kid, who had stationed himself far away from the workshop to catch anyone who tried to come to help the patriarch off guard.