Card Chapter 1: I can only make Anime Cards! (Patreon)

He was thrown into a world unlike any other—a world where imagination fuels power, and stories become weapons. Here, people manifest legendary warriors, mythical beasts, and divine beings into powerful cards, drawn from the tales they know best—ancient mythologies, pantheons of gods, epic fantasies, fairy tales, classic literature, and even historical legends.

These cards are humanity’s last line of defense against the monstrous invaders threatening to erase all of existence.

But our protagonist? He wasn’t a historian or a myth expert. He was an anime lover in his previous life.

With no deep knowledge of traditional myths, he did what he knew best—he summoned the legends of anime.

From the ninja-filled world of Naruto came:
— [Senju Hashirama] – The God of Shinobi
— [Uchiha Madara] – The Ashura of Ninja World — [Ōtsutsuki Kaguya] – The Mother of All Chakra

From the high-seas adventure of One Piece:
— [Monkey D. Luffy] – The rubber-bodied pirate king-to-be
— [Roronoa Zoro] – The Soon-to-be Greatest Swordsman
— [Nami] – The Cunning Navigator who Commands the Weather

And from the spiritual battlefield of Bleach:
— [Captain Yamamoto] – the Blazing Force of Ancient Justice
— [Retsu Unohana] – the Silent Storm of Healing and Death
— [Sōsuke Aizen] – the Mastermind who Defies even the Gods

In a world shaped by stories, he brought his own mythology—crafted from the anime he grew up and loves. And now, his deck is unlike anything this world has ever seen.

...

Summer, Shanghai City, Happy Homeland Residential Area.

Russell opened his eyes in confusion. The TV in the room was broadcasting the news.

“Master‑level Card Crafter ‘Yama’ Bai Yueming arrived in Shanghai today. We welcome Master Bai Yueming for his guidance.

It is reported that Master Bai Yueming is the foremost expert of the Underworld card system.
His visit to Shanghai is to help contain a possible riot in the maritime rift ‘Demon Nest’.

In addition, the current ‘Demon Nest’ disturbance is suspected to have been triggered by the Begging‑for‑Mercy Society.

Citizens are requested to report any suspicious individuals in a timely manner.”

The voice from the television stabbed at Russell’s nerves, and torrents of memories flooded into his mind.

“Did I transmigrate…?” Russell muttered.

Before transmigrating, Russell had been an otaku illustrator exploited as a “black‑labor” artist in the Anime world. After AI art shook up the industry, he’d been unemployed for half a year. One night, while drowning his sorrows in alcohol, he drank too much, choked on his vomit, and died.

“What an embarrassing way to die… Crap! I didn’t delete the study materials on my computer!”

Thinking of the, uh, unspeakable files on that PC, Russell’s face turned ashen.

Hoping his friends were savvy enough to take care of it, he began sorting through the memories in his head.

In this world—also called Earth—there existed a unique profession known as Card Crafter.

History here had initially matched the Earth Russell once knew, but everything changed when Wu Sangui opened the gates and let the “barbarians” in. All over the globe, rifts to secret realms appeared, spewing out endless monsters.

A Ming dynasty border guard, the musclebound Lu Sheng, accidentally fell into one such rift. To everyone’s shock, this hulk fought the realm’s fiends bare‑handed and emerged with the very first card on Earth.

From that moment, the balance between Great Ming and the invading tribes flipped. The dynasty has now endured for over six hundred years.

The Ming royal family, however, is now little more than a mascot—the empire is truly controlled by the Grand Secretariat.

Scratching his head, Russell complained, “Is this even legal for the Ming?”

According to his memories, recent clashes between humans and rift monsters have grown ever fiercer; in some regions, entire human armies face off against monster legions. To replenish their troops, the Ming Card Crafter Association tests all eleventh‑grade students each year, selecting the talented for intensive training.

The original Russell had died from sudden exhaustion while cramming for the creation of his very first card.

That thought actually excited the new Russell—looked like he’d landed the script for a myth‑series Card Crafter protagonist.

Brimming with confidence, he opened the Revised World Mythology Compendium v4.8 spread before him—only for his mood to crash into the abyss.

“…I don’t know much about mythology, do I?”

He realized he wasn’t all that familiar with myths, let alone able to recite every deity like the veteran crafters.

He did know the big‑name gods everyone’s heard of, but at his current rank he couldn’t support crafting those.

The myth‑series plan was bust. Russell idly flipped through another book on the desk, How the Red‑Haired Guy Teaches You to Write Stories. Suddenly, his eyes sharpened as he read aloud:

“…As long as the logic is self‑consistent and the setting is reasonable, it might be possible to craft a card?”

Russell pondered: “Do the anime I watched before transmigrating count…?”

As an Anime illustrator, he certainly knew his shows inside out.

Collecting his thoughts, he kept reviewing the crafting notes before him.

“Mental power, materials, story setting, card artwork—miss any one and it won’t work…”

Of these, mental power was least worrisome. Perhaps thanks to transmigration, his mental strength was already at Black‑Iron tier.

Still, the Card Crafter profession demanded a lot from a person—yet the world couldn’t function without them, so Crafters naturally became the elite.

Shaking off distractions, Russell reorganized the memories.

“…Online loans?”

The original host, an orphan, had lost his ordinary‑folk parents to a monster incursion. All they left him was this old house and barely enough cash to finish high school.

To become a Card Crafter, that money was nowhere near enough, so he inevitably turned to online loans. He managed to borrow 100,000 yuan in seed money, but the condition was brutal: if he couldn’t repay within a month, the loan company would seize the house.

Russell felt a headache coming on. If he succeeded in becoming a Crafter, even Shanghai No. 1 High School alone would award him a 150,000‑yuan scholarship—enough not only to clear the debt but also to scrape through university. But if he failed… he’d be sleeping on the streets, enduring the cold merciless wind.

He sighed—the card‑making crisis was imminent.

Booting up the old clunker of a computer, Russell navigated to the Card Crafter Association’s trading portal, where the available materials listed depend on account level. As an ordinary person, he could purchase only Black‑Iron‑grade items.

Biological materials:
[Rookie Pirate] (White), [Elite Samurai] (Blue), [Human‑Faced Serpent] (Green), [Corpse Hound] (Green), [Hanged Ghost] (Blue), [Avenger] (Green)

Item materials:
[Katana] (Green), [Lamellar Armor] (Blue), [Ring‑Pommel Broadsword] (Green), [Tracksuit] (White)

Drumming his fingers unconsciously, he pondered what character card he could craft right now. Suddenly, his eyes lit up—he added [Elite Samurai] (Blue), [Avenger] (Green), [Katana] (Green), and one blank card to his cart.

Total cost: just over 90,000 yuan. Gritting his teeth, Russell paid. Success or failure would be decided here.

After paying, an emptiness washed over him. He sat in his chair for a while. About half an hour later, someone tapped at the window.

Tap, tap, tap.

A plump, snow‑white “chicken” was preening on the sill, a small satchel slung across its body—the most eye‑catching feature. From the memory haze, Russell recalled its origin: a Black‑Iron‑grade white creature card—Coocoo Chicken, commonly used for intra‑city civilian logistics.

Russell opened the window and accepted the envelope the chicken held in its beak. The bird pecked a button on its bag; a woman’s voice emerged:

“Recipient, please confirm receipt of goods.”

Russell opened the envelope: sure enough, [Elite Samurai] (Blue), [Avenger] (Green), [Katana] (Green), and one blank card.

“Yes, that’s everything,” he nodded to the chicken, reaching out to pet it.

The Coocoo Chicken hopped back warily and pecked another button:

“Please do not pet staff during working hours.”

With that, it flapped away.

Having witnessed the remarkable chicken, Russell couldn’t help feeling a stronger yearning for the Card Crafter profession. Until now, he’d only glimpsed it through the original host’s hazy memories; now he’d seen a bit of its wonder firsthand.

“All right—time to make my very first card.”