The workers moved quickly, stacking the boxes of summoning cards neatly onto the table before stepping back. The weight of the items made the table creak slightly, but the room remained silent.
Just as the last worker turned to leave, one of them hesitated. He bent down beside the old man, back lowered, lips moving in a barely audible whisper.
Mize caught the slight twitch in the old man's fingers.
Something was up.
Seconds later, the manager rose abruptly, hands clasped together in a classic merchant's pose—a bright, forced smile stretched over his shiny bald head.
"Dear customers," he announced smoothly, his voice now dripping with renewed enthusiasm, "all of the summoning cards have been brought per request. Please, feel free to take a look."
He gestured toward the table grandly, like a magician revealing a treasure trove.
Liam?
Didn't move.
Instead, his body shifted forward, no longer leaning back lazily, but now fully engaged.
His eyes scanned the rows of sealed cards with a gaze so piercing that even Mize, sitting right next to him, felt a shift in the air.
Liam's fingers drummed against the armrest.
Then, he spoke.
"Guess?"
The old man visibly flinched, his confident mask cracking like cheap porcelain.
"A-Ah…?" A horrible, forced smile pulled at his lips. "Is there… something wrong, dear customer?"
Liam didn't answer immediately.
Instead, his fingers skimmed lightly over the surface of the boxes, tracing the edges before casually picking one up.
A single glance. A flick of his wrist.
Then, his voice dropped.
"Is four-star the highest grade you have?"
The question hung in the air, deceptively light.
The old man froze, his breath catching for a fraction of a second.
Mize, who had been idly watching, perked up slightly.
"Oh?" He blinked, curiosity sparking in his eyes.
The old man hesitated, his merchant's smile tightening. But he recovered quickly, smoothing a reassuring grin over his face.
"There are indeed higher-grade summoning cards, dear customer," he admitted, "but as you yourself should be aware, such items have very strict requirements and restrictions."
Liam's lips curved faintly.
"I meet the requirements."
The old man went stiff.
"...Ah?"
A bead of sweat rolled down his temple.
His mind raced, fingers nervously rubbing against each other.
"Pardon?"
"You heard me," Liam said smoothly, leaning back into the couch, his arms crossing over his chest. His voice was calm—but the weight of it dropped like a guillotine.
"I meet the restriction requirements for higher-grade items."
A split second of silence.
Then—
A mountain fell.
Or at least, that's what it felt like.
The air collapsed in on itself, a suffocating weight crushing down on the old man's figure alone. The defensive mechanism embedded in his lavish robe flared to life—golden runes glowing brightly in a desperate attempt to counter the unseen force.
But then—
CRACK.
The enchantment shattered like brittle glass.
The old man's face drained of color instantly.
Mize, seated beside Liam, felt nothing.
Because Liam wasn't directing his presence at him.
Mize, completely oblivious, tilted his head slightly. "Huh?"
'Why does he look like he's about to pass out?'
Meanwhile, the old man was drenched in cold sweat, his vision spinning, body trembling violently beneath the now-ruined robe.
He remained standing, barely, but his breath was ragged—like someone who had just seen a ghost.
Then—
Liam's voice came again, deep and absolute.
"Do you understand, manager?"
The words fell like an emperor's decree.
The old man jolted violently, snapping out of his frozen state.
"Ah… Y-yes, Senior!" He blurted out immediately, his voice cracking slightly.
And then, without waiting for another word—he turned and bolted.
"Please wait for a moment! I will return shortly with the item you need!"
His frantic footsteps echoed down the hallway, the door slamming shut behind him.
Silence filled the room once more.
Mize blinked slowly.
Then, he turned toward Liam.
"Liam."
"Hm?" Liam hummed, nonchalant.
Mize squinted at him.
"...What the hell was that?"
"Well, it was magic," Liam said, smiling innocently.
Mize wasn't buying it.
He scooted closer, his soft hair brushing against Liam's shoulder as he leaned in. His ruby-red eyes narrowed slightly, lips curving as he spoke in a light, almost dangerously cute voice.
"Did you threaten the old man too?"
Liam's smile didn't falter—but he leaned back slightly, his body shifting into a lazy sprawl. One arm draped over the armrest, his palm resting against his cheek as he observed Mize's expression with quiet amusement.
"Am I really that bad of a person to you?" he mused, tilting his head slightly.
Then, his lips curled.
"And don't try to be serious. It doesn't suit you."
Mize rolled his eyes. "I was just asking."
Dropping the subject, he let his gaze drift over the summoning cards stacked neatly on the table.
He reached out, picking one at random.
The design of the creature on the card immediately caught his attention—a fearsome, almost mythical-looking beast with glowing eyes and intricate markings running across its body.
"Say," Mize asked absently, tilting the card. "How were these creatures caught in the first place? Is it like a Pokémon Pokéball?"
Liam's brows arched slightly.
"Pokéball?"
Mize nodded, expectant.
Instead of answering, Liam plucked the card from Mize's fingers, flipping it between his knuckles before twisting the box slightly.
"All formation work," he explained, turning the package so Mize could see the shimmering words etched into the back. They fluctuated in brilliant, shifting colors—the same type of inscription Liam had casually drawn midair earlier.
Mize blinked, intrigued.
"Formations do all of this?" He gestured toward the entire pile of boxes.
Liam placed the card down and, without hesitation, reached out to lightly tap Mize's forehead with his fingers.
"Formation can do almost anything," he said simply.
Mize's eyes flickered. Interest piqued.
"Really?"
"Yes," Liam confirmed easily. "Even resurrection is possible."
Mize's eyes widened slightly.
"You mean, like… dead people coming back to life?"
"Zombie!"
Liam exhaled through his nose, clearly entertained by Mize's immediate jump in logic.
"No," he corrected, reaching out to rub Mize's cheek in amusement. "Not like that. A literal resurrection. The person would return completely alive—exactly as they were before."
Mize's jaw dropped slightly.
"Woah…"
His hands clasped together over his chest, eyes shimmering as he turned toward the rows of boxes stacked before them.
"That's amazing."
It didn't take long for the old man to return.The moment he stepped back into the room, it was obvious he'd been in a hurry.
His face was flushed, breath slightly ragged, and behind him, several workers trailed in—each carrying distinctively larger boxes than the ones already on the table.
A total of five.
Each one was placed down with careful precision, the weight of them audibly creaking the table's surface.
The old man straightened, quickly regaining his professional posture before gesturing toward the arranged boxes.
"Here they are, Senior," he announced, forcing a polite smile. "Four five-star summoning cards, and one… a six-star summoning card. The last one is particularly special."
Mize's gaze flickered over to Liam, expecting him to make another imposing demand—but to his surprise, Liam simply lifted a hand and gestured toward him instead.
"Go ahead," he said smoothly. "Pick whichever you like."
Mize stilled.
"...Whichever? Really?"
His tone carried a hint of skepticism—and worry.
Because these things? Did not look cheap.
The boxes alone looked like they were made from rare materials, probably worth more than an entire house in the city.
Mize hesitated, but then—
Pat.
Liam's hand landed gently on his head, fingers ruffling his hair just slightly.
The effect? Immediate boost to motivation.
Mize puffed out his cheeks slightly before turning his full focus to the selection.
One by one, he examined the cards, his ruby eyes skimming over the designs. Each card depicted a creature on the front, likely representing what was inside.
Some looked fierce. Others monstrous. Some even borderline divine.
But…
None of them really caught his interest.
Until—
His gaze finally landed on the last box.
Mize tilted his head. "Nothing?"
He pointed toward it, before glancing toward the old man.
The old merchant responded with a polite smile, his hands coming together as he explained.
"This is a random summoning card, Miss," he said patiently. "Its outcome is entirely dependent on the luck of the person using it. While it may be a six-star card, its popularity is one of the lowest among all other options."
Mize blinked.
"And why's that?" He rested a hand on his hip. "Shouldn't this kind of card be in high demand? With a luck potion, wouldn't people just pull strong summoned creatures for their dungeons?"
His voice was light, carrying across the room without effort.
The old man's brows lifted slightly.
'Hoh… She's quite informed about the Warp already.'
He smiled, though inwardly, he was reevaluating the young lady before him.
"To explain that, we need to first understand the nature of this card," the old man continued. "Unlike the others, where creatures are captured and stored inside, this particular type of card is obtained through only one channel—a secret realm drop."
Mize froze.
"...Huh?"
What's with the sudden game-like mechanics?
He was already confused, but the next words?
They unlocked a whole new level of bewilderment.
"This card," the old man went on, "is a byproduct of an unknown civilization."
Mize's ears perked up immediately.
"Perhaps, Miss, you're still unaware of the true nature of the Warp," the old man continued, adjusting his sleeves. "But allow me to explain.
"The Warp isn't just a battlefield. It's a dimension of its own—an infinite expanse that exists everywhere, filled with countless races, lands, treasures, and—of course—the ongoing competition between civilizations."
Mize's breath hitched slightly.
"Even the greatest formation masters of our human race have yet to decipher how this card operates," the old man added. "Its origins remain… completely unknown."
Mize's fingers tightened slightly around the box, bringing it closer as his curiosity spiked.
"So it's that mysterious?"
"Yes, of course," the old man confirmed with a nod.
Then—he hesitated.
His merchant's instincts kicked in, and he quickly added.
"That being said, Miss, I would advise against purchasing it."
Mize blinked up at him.
The old man coughed lightly into his fist. "Do not be greedy," he advised, tone light but firm. "Buying that card is a gamble. More often than not, people walk away with nothing."
Mize stared at him.
And then—slowly glanced at Liam.
Liam?
Still smiling.