Card Chapter 5: Money (Patreon)

After grasping the Card Crafter Association’s intentions, Russell quickly put on a smile and waved his hands.

“Not at all. In a situation like that, I’m sure any well‑educated citizen of Great Ming would have stepped forward.”

(He wasn’t entirely convinced himself; plenty of rookie Card Crafters freeze up when the third‑year field‑training throws real monsters at them.)

Still, the official was happy that Russell had taken the cue.

“Very well, Student Luo. Let’s register you as a Card Crafter first, and then we’ll talk about the interview.”

Standing at the branch‑office doorway, Russell stared at the card in his hand stamped “Black‑Iron” and felt a little dazed.

So I’m an officially registered Card Crafter now…
Black‑Iron, Bronze, Silver, Gold, Emerald, Diamond, Master, Hall of Fame—this was only step one.

He pulled himself together and recalled what the branch chief—who had introduced himself as Ma Liang—had just said:

“Student Luo, we’d like to film a special interview at your school tomorrow.

We’ll handle the arrangements with the school.
The Shanghai City Daily will conduct the interview. Is that all right with you?”

After all, he’d just been promised a 100‑thousand‑yuan bravery award; what objections could he have?

(The money would come through tomorrow—they still had to take photos.)

On the way home his phone wouldn’t stop ringing.

Homeroom Teacher Wang Ming, the screen read.

“Hello, Teacher? What’s up?”

“Russell!” The shout nearly burst his eardrum.

He held the phone a little farther away. “I’m here.”

When Wang Ming calmed down he asked, “The school told me about your heroic act. Are you hurt?”

A warm feeling rose in Russell’s chest. “No, Teacher. A few ghouls aren’t enough to hurt me.”

Wang Ming sighed in relief. “Good. Rest today, and tidy yourself up tomorrow morning. That’s all.”

The line clicked dead. Russell chuckled—was that really the whole call?

“Beep—benefits card.”

Next morning he got up early and caught the bus.

It was the first day of the new term for every high school in Shanghai City.

“Morning, Russell.” A slick‑haired boy plopped down beside him with his backpack.

“Morning, Mo Fang,” Russell nodded.

Mo Fang was the original body’s classmate; his family ran a small business. They were on passable terms.

As Russell gazed out the window, Mo Fang suddenly asked, “So—how’s your card crafting going?”

Seeing the shifty glint in Mo Fang’s eyes, Russell laughed inwardly; a teenager eager to brag about a little success.

Sure enough, Mo Fang said next, “I got lucky—made a Black‑Iron‑grade green card!”

He was rather pleased with himself; producing a Black‑Iron green card in senior year meant that, with effort, a blue card and full Card Crafter status weren’t impossible.

From his viewpoint, orphan Russell probably hadn’t tried making cards at all over the break.

Just as he waited for flattery, Russell simply replied, “Congratulations.”

Russell had no urge to show off—Mo Fang was still just a kid.

Mo Fang scratched his head. Something’s different about Russell today, he thought, but what?

“Ding—Shanghai City No. 1 High School. Please disembark in order.”

“Come on, Russell, this is us.” Mo Fang slung on his bag.

Getting off, Russell at once spotted their homeroom teacher Wang Ming at the gate.

“Good morning, Teacher Wang,” Mo Fang greeted obediently.

Wang Ming nodded, then grabbed Russell. “Hurry—everyone’s waiting for you.”

Watching the teacher jog off with Russell in tow, Mo Fang fell deep in thought—then formed a bold guess.

Bursting into the classroom, he yelled, “Russell might be dropping out to get a job!”

With everyone’s attention, he laid out his “proof”:

Russell’s an orphan—maybe no more money for tuition.

He seemed gloomy on the bus.

The homeroom teacher was waiting for him at the gate.

One by one, the class began to accept the theory.

Soon they were hotly debating whether to collect donations for Russell.

Meanwhile Wang Ming’s quick trot brought Russell to the principal’s office.

After catching his breath, he pushed the door open.

“Principal Xie, Russell is here.”

“Excellent—Reporter Li and Chairman Ma have been waiting.”

Russell stepped in and greeted, “Good morning, Principal Xie, Chairman Ma.”

Ma Liang, chairman of the Ning’an District Card Crafter Association, laughed. “Kid, I told you—just call me Uncle Ma.”

He gestured to a smartly dressed woman. “This is Reporter Li from the Shanghai City Daily.”

She shook Russell’s hand. “Hello, Student Luo. We’ll do a short interview—no need to be nervous.”

“Student Luo, why did you step up in such a dangerous situation?”

“Because the neighbors in Happy Homeland needed my protection, and I believe that in the same circumstances any Shanghai City No. 1 student—or any Card Crafter—would have done the same.” It was a textbook, watertight answer.

Principal Xie smiled with approval.

Reporter Li pressed on. “I hear from Chairman Ma that you produced a purple card on your very first attempt. Is that true?”

Russell groused inwardly—doesn’t she know card data is a maker’s biggest secret?—but kept a calm face.

“I was just lucky. The story I crafted happened to be accepted. It’s thanks to the school and the Association’s guidance.”

Principal Xie was delighted: talented at card‑making, high emotional intelligence—perfect to showcase this year.

When Reporter Li finished her notes, she said, “Could Student Luo, Principal Xie, and Chairman Ma stand together for a photo?”

She fetched a silk banner and handed it to Russell. “Please hold this.”

In gold characters it read: “A Fearless No. 1 High Student—A Brave Young Hero!”

The corner of Russell’s eye twitched—obviously commissioned by the school itself.

With banner in hand he mustered a polite smile for the camera.

“Perfect. Thank you for cooperating,” Reporter Li said, satisfied.

“I can go now?” Russell asked, seeing no more tasks.

“Please wait, Student Luo. The Association has given you a reward, and No. 1 High has a reward for you as well,” Principal Xie called out just as he turned to leave.