Card Chapter 17: Interview (Patreon)

Russell sat inside the vehicle dispatched from the “Centipede” Secret Realm base, gazing absently at the scenery outside the window.

Director Gu was seated right beside him.

Had someone told Russell that he would meet Bai Yueming during this field exercise, he never would have believed it. After all, the Great Ming Dominion officially has only three master‑level Card Crafters, and “Yama” Bai Yueming is normally stationed in a coastal city, where he suppresses riots in maritime secret realms.

Figures who stand at the very pinnacle of the Dominion are beyond the reach of most people no matter how much money they spend.

Yet Russell, merely for killing a minor traitorous Black-Iron-grade Card Crafter, had obtained an audience—proof enough that this affair was anything but simple.

Seeing Russell’s furrowed brow, Director Gu thought he was nervous about meeting Bai Yueming and tried to reassure him.

“Student Luo, relax. You’ve rendered great service. Master Bai just wants to meet the young hero who made it possible.”

Pulled from his thoughts, Russell managed a smile. “Thank you, Director Gu.”

Before long, the car arrived at the headquarters of the Shanghai Card Crafters’ Association.

Director Gu led Russell to an elevator clearly reserved for senior staff. “President Yan has already given orders—go straight up.”

He swiped his ID card; the doors slid open.

Russell took a deep breath and stepped inside.

The doors closed and the lift shot upward.

Moments later it reached the top floor.

Ding‑dong.

As the doors parted, the president’s suite unfolded before Russell’s eyes.

The enormous floor‑to‑ceiling windows were the most striking feature, but Russell had no time for the view.

He bowed respectfully to the white‑haired elder and the middle‑aged man with a goatee. “Master Bai, President Yan—greetings. I’m Russell.”

The white‑haired elder was, of course, “Yama” Bai Yueming. Contrary to that fearsome title, Bai Yueming greeted him with unexpected warmth. “No need to be nervous, Student Luo. Please—sit.”

Russell obeyed, perching only halfway on the seat.

The goateed man chuckled at the sight.

“Student Luo, we truly have you to thank. Without you, our investigation would have dragged on.”

This was Yan Wenlai, president of the Shanghai Association.

He wasn’t exaggerating. Though the Association had turned up no clues so far, it would eventually have found the truth. Only a handful of people had entered the secret realm; after the attacks on several high schools the perpetrators vanished, but cross‑checking with the stationed crafters would soon reveal who was missing.

Russell’s evidence merely accelerated the process. With that in mind he asked, “May I know why Master Bai and President Yan sent for me?”

Bai Yueming grew solemn. “Student Luo, I heard you obtained a material drop when the assailant died?”

Russell blinked—was it about that? He nonetheless produced the item; no master‑level crafter would covet a mere Black-Iron-grade material, even a gold‑quality one.

“This condensed after the assailant’s death,” he said, handing it over.

Bai Yueming sighed the instant he received it. A veteran of the coastal front, he recognized the origin at once. “As I thought—material from a ‘Demon Nest’. That means the Begging-for-mercy Society is behind this.”

The name jolted Russell, reminding him of the dying words Old Wang had failed to finish. “Master Bai, President Yan—the attacker tried to say ‘qi…’ before he dissipated, but never finished.”

Yan Wenlai and Bai Yueming exchanged glances. “Student Luo,” Yan said quietly, “keep that discovery to yourself. Tell no one.”

He was worried the youngster might blurt it out and endanger himself. The Association could handle it, but Russell’s safety mattered.

Their concern was unnecessary; Russell was no ordinary high‑schooler. Had he been, he wouldn’t have concealed Old Wang’s corpse so swiftly. He nodded gravely. “I understand. Thank you for your concern; I won’t speak of it.”

The two men smiled, impressed by his composure.

President Yan was about to offer further encouragement when the elevator chimed again.

A young man with documents hurried over, handed them to Yan, and left after a polite bow.

Yan skimmed the file; his brows knit. He passed it to Bai Yueming. “Old Bai, every secret realm that had trouble had a stationed crafter who applied at the last minute.”

Bai Yueming read carefully. Soon he had an answer and sighed. “I wondered how the Begging-for-mercy Society placed so many pawns; now it makes sense.”

“Look—every suspect is strapped for cash. Sick mother… gambling debts…”

President Yan was stunned. “They betrayed the Association for money?”

Bai Yueming shook his head. “They never imagined they’d become monsters. But after years battling the Society, I know their leader—‘Ghost Scales’ Jin Ping—all too well.”

He turned to Russell with earnest advice. “Student Luo, be wary of any ‘charitable’ offers that come your way.”

Russell nodded. “Thank you for the warning, Master Bai. May I take my leave?”

He sensed that anything more he heard would only drag a lowly Black-Iron-grade like him into deeper waters.

Returning the gold‑quality [Flesh Demon] material, Bai Yueming smiled gently. “Go on then, Student Luo. Safe travels.”

When the elevator doors closed, Yan Wenlai finally looked at Bai Yueming. “Old Bai, do you think this Russell is suspicious?”

Yan had never fully trusted him; as president he couldn’t afford carelessness.

Bai Yueming slowly shook his head. “The Begging-for-mercy Society wouldn’t waste such a promising seedling as a disposable pawn—and besides, Lu Zhidao sensed nothing amiss.”

At his words, a red‑robed figure holding a token emerged silently behind him—

“Inspector‑Judge Lu Zhidao of the Tribunal.”

Yan Wenlai exhaled in relief. “Then Student Luo really is clean. But where is the Society getting so much money?”