My Deck Is Made Up Of OP Anime Characters

"Did I guess wrong?"

Azrael's face darkened like storm clouds as he stared at the gaudy neon sign blazing above him. The establishment before him was unmistakably what it appeared to be—a high-end brothel, complete with red lanterns and suggestive advertisements in the windows.

Before arriving, Azrael had searched for this address on his phone's map, but the listing had simply shown "175 Melford Road" without mentioning it was the main branch of Velvet Springhouse. If he'd known it was this kind of place, he definitely wouldn't have come!

He'd sacrificed his reputation just to get the opportunity to act alone tonight. Though in this situation, it wasn't exactly sacrificing his reputation—after all, he really had come to Velvet Springhouse.

Taking a deep breath to calm his nerves, Azrael muttered the four-character mantra under his breath, "I'm already here."

With a resigned expression, Azrael stepped through the ornate entrance of Velvet Springhouse.

From the perspective of the madam stationed near the door, however, the scene played out quite differently. Outside the establishment, a young man who looked barely out of high school had been waging a fierce internal battle with himself. In the end, desire had apparently overwhelmed reason, and he'd stepped into the building with the determined momentum of someone facing his execution.

To be honest, the madam had seen plenty of customers like this one—mostly students wanting their first taste of the adult world. But she knew better than to underestimate anyone in this era of Lore Cardians. Age meant nothing when supernatural power was involved.

"Welcome, young master," she said with a practiced smile spreading across her painted features. "Are you here alone tonight? First time visiting us? Do you have any particular girls in mind, or would you like me to arrange something special for you?"

The woman's overpowering perfume—a cloying mixture of jasmine and something artificially sweet—made Azrael's nose wrinkle in disgust. "Fredrika asked me to come," he said curtly, trying not to breathe too deeply.

The madam studied Azrael's delicate features with growing speculation. Is the establishment branching out into male escorts now? she wondered silently. Or do some of our female clients prefer this type?

Azrael's expression grew thunderous as he caught the direction of her thoughts. "I don't know what she's planning," he said with barely contained irritation. "She only told me to be here at eight o'clock."

He was prepared for the worst. If this woman really intended to turn him into some kind of male prostitute, then he'd use his Iron Man persona to remind the Crimson Oath Society exactly how dangerous their organization could be. After all, whatever Iron Man did had absolutely nothing to do with Azrael the high school student.

After what felt like an eternity, the madam returned with instructions. "Manager Fredrika asked me to escort you upstairs," she said, her tone noticeably more respectful.

This can't be Manager Fredrika's kept boy, the madam thought as she led Azrael to a private elevator. The thought made her reassess the young man walking behind her.

The elevator carried them to the top floor—a level clearly reserved for management rather than customers. "Manager Fredrika," the madam announced as they entered a lavishly appointed office, "I've brought our guest."

Azrael's suspicions crystallized into certainty. The woman from this afternoon was definitely a member of the Crimson Oath Society. After all, what kind of ordinary prostitute needed the establishment's manager to personally distribute business cards on the street?

"The security risk alone should have been obvious," Azrael thought, secretly criticizing their operational carelessness.

"Thank you. You may leave us now," came a familiar voice from behind an executive chair facing away from them.

"Yes, Manager Fredrika." The madam bowed respectfully and retreated, leaving Azrael alone with his mysterious contact.

As the chair slowly rotated to face him, Azrael's eyes widened in genuine shock. "Wait, who are you supposed to be?"

The woman before him bore absolutely no resemblance to the crude street solicitor from the afternoon. Instead, he found himself facing an elegant beauty with cascading wine-red waves and a figure that belonged on magazine covers rather than street corners.

She wasn't just different from the afternoon encounter—she was a completely different person entirely.

Seeing Azrael's stunned expression, the enchanting woman couldn't help but laugh with genuine amusement. "What's wrong? Don't you recognize your big sister?"

As she spoke, wisps of white smoke began curling through the air around her. The next moment, the sophisticated beauty in the executive chair transformed into the garish woman Azrael had encountered at his hotel. "Or are you more comfortable with this appearance, little brother?"

Her voice took on a playfully seductive tone. "And I was completely serious about my afternoon offer, by the way."

After a long moment of processing this revelation, Azrael finally found his voice. "Please change back. That form is genuinely offensive to look at."

Bang.

Fredrika instantly reverted to her original appearance, though she sighed with mock melancholy. "Men are all the same—so shallow, only caring about appearances."

Azrael didn't bother denying the accusation. He freely admitted to being superficial when it came to aesthetics, and cut straight to business. "What did you want to see me about?"

He certainly wasn't going to directly ask if she represented the Crimson Oath Society—that would be tantamount to confessing his own involvement.

"What if I told you I wanted to offer you employment at our establishment?" Fredrika asked with sparkling eyes, clearly enjoying his discomfort.

Azrael's expression immediately turned frigid, and he prepared to leave without another word.

"Hey, hey, don't get angry, little brother," came a woman's voice tinged with laughter from behind him. "Besides, you already know the real reason I wanted to meet."

Azrael turned back to face Fredrika with a cold stare, saying nothing while tension filled the space between them.

The silent standoff stretched until Fredrika finally broke into laughter, throwing up her hands in surrender. "Alright, alright, I give up. Your big sister is from the Crimson Oath Society, okay?"

Hearing this confession, Azrael immediately reached for his phone as if to call the authorities.

Fredrika's laughter intensified at his performance. "Don't bother acting—there are only two of us here. Who exactly are you putting on this show for, little brother?"

She opened a desk drawer and withdrew a familiar-looking contract. "Is this sufficient proof for you?"

The moment Azrael saw the document, his expression returned to its previous calm. He nodded slightly. "That's enough."

The contract bore the unmistakable seals and formatting of the Crimson Oath Society.

Azrael couldn't be blamed for such caution—after all, who knew whether this woman might be some kind of government sting operation? His previous experiences had taught him that paranoia was often the difference between freedom and prison.

Fredrika shook her head with amused admiration as she studied him. "You're quite young, but your mind is remarkably careful."

Azrael couldn't help rolling his eyes internally at her observation. As the saying went, "every failure makes you wiser." He'd nearly been exposed before due to insufficient caution—he wouldn't make that mistake again.

Now that the woman's identity was confirmed, Azrael abandoned his cautious act and settled onto the reception sofa in her office. "What do you need from me?"

There was another question he didn't voice aloud: Does the Crimson Oath Society have another mission for me? After all, he'd been in Pixar for less than a day, and their operatives were already making contact. What else could warrant such urgency besides new assignments?

Speaking of which, Azrael still hadn't figured out how to use the silver-level material the Crimson Oath Society had advanced him. Not only was he currently too weak to utilize it, but a single material wasn't sufficient to create a complete card anyway.

Now that they'd moved to serious business, Fredrika abandoned her teasing demeanor. "Don't blame me for using that disguise to approach you earlier. Like you, I've learned that sufficient caution is necessary for survival in our line of work."

Azrael nodded in agreement as he appreciated her natural beauty. After all, the Crimson Oath Society dealt in genuine life-and-death business.

Ignoring Azrael's appreciative gaze, Fredrika rested her chin on her right hand and smiled. "Nothing too dramatic brought you here tonight. First, I wanted to meet you properly—after all, I'll be your primary contact in Pixar for the next few days."

"Second, I have some information to share with you."

Her smile took on a predatory edge. "Intelligence about your opponents in the Greenridge Province Unified Examination."