My Deck Is Made Up Of OP Anime Characters

"Intelligence?"

Azrael raised an eyebrow with genuine interest. "Do you have detailed information about the contestants in this Greenridge Province Unified Examination?"

Fredrika couldn't help but roll her eyes at his hopeful expression. "You think I'm some kind of omniscient intelligence goddess? I'm not that powerful."

She leaned back in her executive chair, wine-red hair catching the office lights. "It's just information on some students who gained notoriety before the exam period. Students who've made names for themselves in regional competitions, training incidents, or academy rankings."

Her lips curved into a knowing smile. "You're included in that list, by the way."

Azrael nodded slightly, unsurprised by this revelation. "That's fair enough. It's better to know your opponents in advance than to stumble around blindly."

Fredrika's smile widened as she reached into her desk drawer, withdrawing several manila folders thick with documents. "The information is all here, but shouldn't you say a few nice words to thank your devoted sister?"

Azrael thought privately, It's not like I asked you to collect this stuff. But he understood the game being played here. A few empty pleasantries wouldn't cost him anything, and maintaining good relations with Crimson Oath Society operatives could prove valuable.

He immediately adopted the most robotic tone imaginable. "Ah, thank you, kind and beautiful Sister Fredrika, for graciously collecting this intelligence for me. I have no way to adequately repay such generosity, so I can only promise to remember your kindness in my next life."

The delivery was so deliberately emotionless that it bordered on comedic. Azrael couldn't help but remember an old joke from his previous life: if a handsome young man rescued a beautiful woman, she'd offer to marry him in gratitude, but if an ugly man performed the same heroic deed, she'd only promise to repay him as "a cow or horse in the next life."

Although, to be fair, Fredrika was definitely attractive enough to warrant better treatment.

Fredrika rolled her eyes at Azrael's completely flat delivery. "No sincerity whatsoever. You sound like you're reading a tax form."

She paused dramatically, then grinned. "But you've passed my test."

As she handed over the folders, her fingers deliberately brushed against Azrael's palm in what was clearly an intentional gesture. Azrael ignored the contact entirely, accepting the documents and settling onto the leather sofa to examine their contents.

The first profile immediately caught his attention—an old acquaintance.

Nick.

The same Nick whom Azrael had decisively defeated during the Elite Talent Cup competition. According to the intelligence summary, his former opponent had successfully advanced to Bronze level, though specific card information remained classified or unknown.

Azrael had some educated guesses about Nick's potential development path. After all, not everyone possessed Azrael's unique advantages when it came to card creation flexibility. Based on Nick's previous preferences and regional background, his Bronze-level cards would most likely feature mythical beasts from the Classic of Mountains and Seas.

The second profile described someone completely unfamiliar.

Hu Lai from Jinghai Middle School. Also listed as a Bronze-level Lore Cardian, but again with no specific card information provided.

Azrael looked up from the documents with mild exasperation. "What's the use of intelligence that only tells me their power level? That's barely better than nothing."

Fredrika had been studying Azrael's concentrated expression with obvious fascination. When his question broke her reverie, she chuckled softly. "Listen, little brother, I'm just a brothel manager. How much classified military intelligence do you realistically expect me to obtain?"

Azrael shook his head, acknowledging the fair point. "You're right, of course."

Although Fredrika clearly held a position of authority, her business operated in the entertainment sector—hardly a hub for academic or military intelligence. While brothels historically served as excellent information-gathering centers due to the loose tongues of relaxed customers, the problem was that most clients wouldn't be discussing teenage Lore Cardian competitions during their visits.

The fact that Fredrika had managed to compile even this much information demonstrated considerable resourcefulness and effort.

Azrael continued reviewing the profiles with patient attention to detail. To his pleasant surprise, the next student's file actually contained substantive card information.

Xue Ming from Pixar University Affiliated High School. His primary card was listed as Bronze-level [Maojiang], though the quality rating remained unknown.

Azrael silently committed Xue Ming's name and details to memory before continuing through the remaining documents. The intelligence quality varied significantly—some profiles included partial card information, while others provided only basic biographical data and power level confirmations.

Without exception, however, every student mentioned in the files had achieved Bronze-level status.

When Azrael finished reading, Fredrika regarded him with an expectant smile. "Well? Is this gift from your big sister sufficient?"

Her expression grew slightly more serious. "Just remember that some of this information has been sitting around for a while, so don't treat it as gospel truth. People change, circumstances evolve."

Azrael certainly wouldn't make that mistake. After all, he'd created three additional Bronze-level cards just since producing Luffy. Even if other students weren't progressing at his ridiculous pace, he refused to believe that talented individuals would remain completely stagnant.

Moreover, some competitors might have deliberately concealed their true Bronze-level strength, meaning they wouldn't appear in these intelligence reports at all. The world was full of hidden tigers and crouching dragons—Azrael had learned better than to underestimate potential opponents.

Still, one detail bothered him considerably. The sheer number of Bronze-level participants mentioned in these files seemed unusually high. According to historical patterns from previous years' provincial examinations, there shouldn't be this many advanced students competing simultaneously.

Despite his reservations, Azrael felt genuinely satisfied with the intelligence package. "Thank you, Miss Fredrika. Do you have any specific requests in return?"

In Azrael's experience, Fredrika could have easily avoided collecting this information entirely. The Crimson Oath Society hadn't issued any mandatory intelligence-gathering requirements. Since she'd taken the initiative to compile these profiles, she clearly wanted something from him.

Although Azrael couldn't imagine what a mere Bronze-level Lore Cardian could offer that would interest someone with her resources and connections.

Fredrika's smile brightened with satisfaction at his perceptive question. "You really are a smart one."

She leaned forward slightly, resting her chin on her interlaced fingers. "Sister doesn't have any immediate demands. I just hope that when Azrael becomes successful in the future, you won't forget the little people who helped you along the way."

To be honest, Fredrika hadn't invested tremendous personal effort in gathering this intelligence. The girls working under her command had done most of the actual information collection, while she'd simply coordinated and compiled their reports.

Her real motivation had been establishing a favorable relationship with Azrael for potential future benefits.

After considering her request carefully, Azrael replied, "If circumstances permit, I can handle one reasonable favor within my capabilities."

He deliberately kept his commitment vague and conditional. Azrael had no intention of binding himself with open-ended obligations based on a simple intelligence exchange.

The definition of "within my capabilities" would naturally remain his decision to make.

Fredrika didn't seem bothered by the obvious escape clauses Azrael had built into his promise. She waved dismissively. "That's perfectly acceptable. Sister trusts your character."

Azrael stood up, leaving the folders on the coffee table. "Then I'll head back to the hotel now."

He couldn't take the physical documents with him—there was no plausible way to explain their origin if discovered. Since their business was concluded, Azrael saw no reason to linger.

As he moved toward the door, Fredrika's voice took on that familiar provocative tone. "Student Azrael, are you really not going to sample what we have to offer?"

Her beautiful face flushed with a delicate pink as she continued with deliberate temptation. "Big sister promises to make the experience... educational."

An inexperienced teenage boy might have found such an offer from a stunning woman irresistible.

But Azrael was not an inexperienced teenage boy.

As a former doujinshi artist in his previous life, he'd seen and drawn more explicit content than Fredrika had probably encountered in her entire career! Besides, nobody should seriously mistake her for some kind of benevolent mentor offering to "graduate" innocent young men from their virginity.

Anyone naive enough to believe that fairy tale would have been thoroughly exploited long ago.

Azrael didn't believe for a second that someone capable of operating a high-end brothel in a city like Pixar possessed anything resembling a charitable nature.

He turned back briefly, waving a casual farewell. "If you're going to keep playing these games, maybe turn down the intensity a little."

After Azrael departed from the top floor, Fredrika's flushed, seductive expression gradually returned to cool professionalism. "Interesting," she murmured to the empty office.

In her assessment, Azrael's maturity and self-control were remarkable for someone supposedly still in high school. His behavior patterns suggested experience and calculation far beyond his apparent age.

"But if he weren't like this," she mused aloud, "the organization probably wouldn't have chosen him for deep-cover operations."

Outside Velvet Springhouse, Azrael waited for the ride-share vehicle he'd summoned through his phone app. The night air carried a mixture of urban pollution and the lingering scents from various nearby establishments.

After several minutes, a sedan pulled up to the curb in front of him. Azrael slid into the back seat and provided the last four digits of his phone number as verification, a standard security protocol for the service.

As they pulled into traffic, Azrael noticed the driver studying him through the rearview mirror with an expression of barely concealed judgment.

Azrael ignored the scrutiny, closing his eyes and settling back to wait quietly for their return to the hotel district. He had no interest in whatever moral opinions a taxi driver might harbor.

A few minutes into the ride, however, he caught the driver's muttered commentary under his breath.

"Students these days are playing with fire. I think that wellness clinic is a complete waste of money."

Azrael's eyes snapped open, a chill running down his spine as the implications of the driver's words sank in. The man wasn't just making casual observations about young people's lifestyle choices.

He was talking about something far more specific and dangerous.