advance/early chapters : p atreon.com/Ritesh_Jadhav0869
Russell emerged from the mall bathroom looking like a completely different person—which, technically, he was. The "Lord Five" disguise had served its purpose, but walking around Soochow wearing the face of one of the Society's most wanted would be like painting a target on his back and handing out free ammunition.
The shopping mall was perfect cover. High foot traffic, multiple exits, security cameras that mysteriously malfunctioned whenever a Shadowkhan passed by. He grabbed a shared bike from the rack outside—bright yellow with a squeaky wheel—and pedaled back toward the hotel like any other college student out for a morning ride.
Nobody looked twice at him. Why would they? He was just another kid on a bike, not someone who'd just framed a terrorist leader and manipulated the government into doing his dirty work.
Identity crisis? What identity crisis? I have so many identities I could start a boy band.
"VROOM... sputter... COUGH..."
Coach Carter's van sounded like it was dying. Actually, it sounded like it had already died and someone was forcing its corpse to keep moving through sheer willpower and duct tape. Black smoke poured from the exhaust pipe in quantities that definitely violated several environmental regulations.
"You guys got back just in time yesterday," Carter announced to his team as the van lurched forward. "The entire eastern district went under martial law in the middle of the night. Complete lockdown."
The Battle Club members exchanged glances. That was where they'd been planning to go for dinner before Russell had mysteriously vanished for his "walk."
"What happened, Coach?" Lucian asked, leaning forward. "That seems pretty extreme."
Carter shook his head, eyes on the road. "A friend in the Association just told me about the martial law. No details. But when they lock down an entire district..." He trailed off meaningfully.
Russell kept his expression carefully neutral, staring out the window at the passing cityscape. I wonder if they found the Sect gathering. Probably a bunch of half-demon corpses and panicking authorities right about now. You're welcome, Soochow.
The conversation meandered through various theories—pocket dimension outbreak, terrorist attack, gang war—each more creative than the last. Heath suggested aliens. Keith countered with time-traveling assassins. Russell contributed nothing, which was probably for the best since his contribution would have been "I sent them a crude map via small child and they found a demon cult."
The van wheezed to a stop at Soochow University's main gate with a death rattle that sounded final. But then again, it had sounded final yesterday too, and the day before that.
"Holy shit," Sonny breathed.
The gate was surrounded by what looked like half the student body. Hundreds of students, all craning their necks, phones out, chattering excitedly like they were waiting for a celebrity.
"...Are there really this many members in Soochow's Battle Club?" Russell asked, genuinely baffled. Even Northgate's club only had about thirty members total, and most of those were just there for the resume padding.
Coach Carter looked equally confused. "This can't be right. Pascal said they had twelve members, maybe fifteen..."
They climbed out of the van—Carter first, then the others, with Russell bringing up the rear. The moment his foot hit the pavement, the crowd erupted.
"OH MY GOD, IT'S HIM!"
"IT'S REALLY HIM!"
"THE RUSSELL "
"THE GOD-SLAYER!"
"Wait, what?" Russell muttered under his breath. "God-slayer? When did I—"
"RUSSELL! RUSSELL! CAN YOU SIGN MY CARD DECK?"
"MARRY ME, RUSSELL!"
"I WANT TO HAVE YOUR BABIES!"
"I'M ALREADY PREGNANT WITH HIS BABIES!"
"THAT'S BIOLOGICALLY IMPOSSIBLE, KAREN!"
Russell turned to look at his teammates, all of whom were staring back at him with expressions ranging from amused (Lucian) to jealous (Sonny) to trying-not-to-laugh (Heath and Keith).
"Am I... famous?" he asked weakly.
Heath lost the battle against laughter. "Dude, your fight with Wade was broadcast across three provinces. You literally made a Wu family heir piss himself on live television. There are memes. So many memes."
"There's a fan club," Keith added helpfully. "Multiple fan clubs, actually. They're having a war about whether you're dating Fubuki or Artoria."
"I... what?"
Lucian clapped him on the shoulder, grinning. "Russell, you're the face of Northgate University now. Own it." His expression turned more serious. "Actually, that gives me an idea. How about you go last in today's battles? As our anchor. Give the rest of us a chance to warm up the crowd."
It made tactical sense. If Russell went first and demolished everyone, the other matches would feel anticlimactic. This way, they'd build up to the main event.
"Sure," Russell agreed, still processing the idea of fan clubs arguing about his romantic life with his own cards. "Whatever works."
Behind them, Sonny's expression had darkened considerably. Russell caught the look and filed it away. Jealousy's a dangerous emotion in our line of work. Should probably keep an eye on that.
A man who looked like a stick figure that had somehow gained sentience approached them. Seriously, he was so thin Russell was concerned a strong breeze might snap him in half.
"Old Carter!" the man called out cheerfully. "Good to see you!"
"Pascal," Carter returned the greeting, then gestured at the mob of students. "Want to explain what the hell this is?"
Coach Pascal's scarecrow face flushed with embarrassment. "We have a... chatty member. He might have mentioned on social media that Russell would be here today. It kind of... snowballed."
Carter's eye twitched. "Snowballed. Right."
Pascal turned to Russell, and his entire demeanor changed. Where before he'd been casually friendly, now he looked like a man meeting his personal hero. "Mr. Russell. It's an absolute honor. Thank you so much for agreeing to guide our students today."
"It's just a friendly exchange," Russell replied, putting on his humble genius smile. "We all improve by challenging each other."
Also, your students are probably going to get demolished, but let's keep things positive.
Five students pushed through the crowd to join them—four girls and one boy. They had that particular combination of confidence and nervousness that marked them as Soochow's main team.
"Now that everyone's here, let's head to the venue," Pascal said, leading the group through the crowd. "I've already reserved Battle Hall Three."
The walk to the battle hall felt like a parade. Students followed them, phones out, livestreaming everything. Russell caught snippets of commentary:
"—and there he is, walking like a normal person! He walks just like us!"
"His hair bounces when he walks! Natural bounce, not styled!"
"I bet he could kill someone with his pinky finger."
"Sarah, that's weird."
"YOU'RE WEIRD!"
The Soochow team members kept stealing glances at him when they thought he wasn't looking. Russell pretended not to notice, but after the hundredth "subtle" peek, he was starting to feel like an animal in a zoo.
This must be what Blake deals with all the time. No wonder he's so grumpy.
Battle Hall Three was impressive—a massive space with reinforced walls and a gold-level barrier generator. Much stronger than what Southeastern had used.
"Nice setup," Russell commented.
"We upgraded after watching your match with Wade," Pascal admitted. "Our old silver-level barriers would have lasted about three seconds."
As planned, the batting order was set: Jean first, then Yuna, Sonny, Lucian, and finally Russell. The crowd that had followed them packed the observation areas, phones ready to capture every moment.
The first match started, and Russell finally got to see his teammates in actual combat.
It was... educational.
Jean was competent. Not spectacular, but solid. He had good fundamentals, decent card synergy, and fought smart rather than flashy. A respectable B+ performance.
Yuna was trying her best. That was the nicest thing Russell could say. She had power but no finesse, like someone had given a toddler a flamethrower. She won through sheer stubbornness and the fact that her opponent was somehow worse.
Sonny...
Oh no.
Sonny was angry. Angry at the world, angry at his opponent, angry at the air for existing. His fighting style was just throwing everything at the wall and seeing what exploded. He lost badly, and judging by his expression when he came off the field, he blamed everyone but himself.
"Not exactly national championship material," Russell murmured.
"If it weren't for you this year, the school would have basically given up," Lucian said quietly, having returned to stand beside him. "Jean's decent—normal national-level, nothing special but reliable. Sonny and Yuna are just... warm bodies, basically. Making up the numbers."
He paused, watching Sonny storm off to sulk in a corner.
"But now that we have you? I think we might actually have a shot at something."
Russell watched the matches with a tactical eye. "Hopefully some hidden talents emerge in the next few weeks."
Lucian almost laughed but caught himself. Does he really not understand how rare he is? Most cardmakers work for YEARS to reach silver level. These two have been silver for three years and this is as good as they get.
"Right. Hidden talents. Sure."
A crack of thunder announced Lucian's turn. He walked onto the field with calm confidence, electricity already crackling around his fingers. The crowd perked up—they could tell this would be different.
And it was. Lucian's cards were lightning-themed, and he wielded them like a conductor directing a symphony of destruction. His opponent lasted exactly ninety-three seconds before yielding, smoking slightly and twitching.
The crowd went wild. This was what they'd come to see—real power, real skill.
Then something unexpected happened.
The last Soochow team member, a tall girl with striking purple hair, stepped onto the field but didn't summon any cards. Instead, she looked directly at Russell, then turned to her coach.
"Teacher, I want to fight Russell. Is that okay?"
The crowd held its breath. Someone had actually called out Russell directly. This was either brave or suicidal.
Before Pascal could answer, Lucian's voice cut through the silence, sharp as his lightning:
"If you want to challenge Russell, you have to defeat me first."
The blue electricity around him intensified, casting shifting shadows across his face. There was something protective in his stance, like a knight defending his king.
"Northgate Battle Club, Lucian Storm. Please give me your guidance."
The two coaches exchanged looks. Pascal sighed and addressed his student. "Diana, don't be ridiculous. You want to fight Russell? Beat Lucian first. Those are the rules."
Diana pouted but accepted, summoning her cards with a flourish.
Russell scratched his head, bewildered by the sudden drama. How did I become the final boss? I just wanted to have some practice matches.
But he could feel something from Lucian—not just protection, but genuine respect. The older student truly believed Russell deserved to be protected, to be saved for worthy opponents only.
I'm collecting followers without even trying. First the Society members who think I'm Lord Five, now Lucian appointing himself my guardian. What's next, a cult?
Wait. The fan clubs. He might already have cults.
In my old world, leadership was about politics and profit. Here, it's simpler. Power recognizes power. The strong follow the stronger. And apparently, I'm strong enough that people naturally gravitate toward me.
Blake must deal with this constantly. No wonder he's so tired all the time.
The match between Lucian and Diana began, lightning meeting water in explosive clashes that had the crowd cheering. But Russell's mind was elsewhere, contemplating this new dynamic.
A tall tree attracts the wind, he thought, remembering the old proverb. But sometimes the wind brings seeds that grow into a forest.
Whether he liked it or not, he was becoming something more than just a powerful cardmaker. He was becoming a symbol, a leader, a figure others wanted to follow.
The question was: what would he do with that power?
(End of this chapter)
Plz THROW POWER STONES.