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HC: Card Slinger | Ch. 44 - They
🕑 Added 2025-02-20 11:51:40 +0000 UTCDeckard sifted through Ratu’s cards.
Not long ago, Ratu had been playing with a fox deck packed mostly with commons, sprinkled with a few uncommons and the odd rare. But now, uncommons were the new baseline, rare cards were plentiful, and at the heart of it all was something he’d never seen before—an epic card.
His gaze locked onto the purple gem shimmering in the corner. The artwork was breathtaking, almost too vivid for ink and paper. The Whale Shark’s glossy texture and lifelike hues gave it an aura of undeniable prestige as if it could break free from the card at any moment.
“Whoa…” Deckard exhaled. “What an amazing card.”
This wasn’t something Ratu had lucked into. He couldn’t imagine the islander trekking out to hunt whale sharks in the hopes of a lucky drop. Deckard wasn’t even sure NPCs could do that.
He narrowed his eyes. “Ratu… where did you get these cards?”
Ratu’s ears twitched. “Not ya business.”
Deckard smirked, flipping the Whale Shark card between his fingers. “I thought we were playing nice here. Didn’t you want me to spare you? Let you keep all these shiny, expensive cards?” He let the epic card catch the light before holding it up. “Or even this baby?”
Ratu gulped, a flicker of hesitation flashing across his face. He clenched his fists and shook his head. “I no can. I no can. They make me promise.”
Deckard stiffened. Someone lent him this deck.
“Who’s giving you these cards?”
Ratu locked his jaw, his arms snapping across his chest. “No.”
Whoever was behind this wasn’t just generous; they were powerful enough to make Ratu keep his mouth shut. What kind of leverage did they have over him?
And more importantly—who had the kind of wealth to lend out epic cards like they were nothing?
Deckard held the epic card between his fingers, letting it catch the light. “Tell me who gave you this deck, or I’ll walk away with this card.”
Ratu’s jaw tensed, but the way his fingers curled in on themselves told another story. “Suit yourself!” he snapped. But his voice cracked, and his bravado crumbled as his shoulders sagged as if the weight of the ocean itself had settled on him.
Deckard exhaled through his nose, watching him. There’s more to this than just losing a few cards. Ratu’s trembling hands, the panicked glances—he wasn’t just upset. He was terrified.
For a second, Deckard hesitated. Should he let him off the hook?
He studied the islander for a long moment, then reminded himself of one thing: Ratu was just an NPC.
The reality of his own situation hit him. His mom’s nursing home bills weren’t going to pay themselves. Neither was Uncle Arnold’s care. People depended on him—real people. And if the tables were turned? If he had lost? Ratu wouldn’t be showing him any kindness.
With a sharp breath, Deckard grabbed the Whale Shark card. No way was he letting an epic slip through his fingers—especially not when Ratu refused to play ball. The card’s cost-reduction effect made it flexible and strong outside a shark-only deck.
He could already picture it: a player flooding the board with creatures, thus enabling him to play this creature and halting their momentum. It was a great counter to aggro decks. He had to have this card.
He sifted through the deck, scanning the other cards. Even though he had no enablers to play expensive shark cards in a Terralore game, he still took two more shark creature cards for their stat bonuses. In the end, he took Blacktip Shark and Bull Shark too.
“I’m taking these three,” he said.
Ratu’s hands went limp. His worst fears had come true.
“I no ever want to see you again,” Ratu spat, his voice shaking. “You ruin my life!” His breath came fast and shallow. "You no understand... I lose everything. Get off my boat."
Deckard’s eyes flicked to the fishing hook still clenched in Ratu’s hand.
Better wet than skewered.
Without another word, he vaulted over the side.
The water hit him like a cold slap, shock crawling over his skin as he surfaced. Ratu’s curses echoed over the waves, each one dripping with venom. The fisherman gripped the oars with shaking hands, his movements sharp and erratic.
Deckard trod water, watching. Ratu rowed furiously, but there was something off about how he moved—like every stroke of the oars fought against a current only he could feel. The boat dragged against the waves, resisting him.
Deckard just floated there for a long moment, watching as Ratu’s boat shrank into a distant dot against the village backdrop.
He replayed Ratu’s words over and over.
Meeting Ratu today wasn’t just a coincidence. It never had been. Ratu had always appeared at the exact moments Deckard hit significant milestones. The first time was after he’d completed his first mini-set. Now, it was after his third—the Seagull mini-set.
Every time he took a step forward as a card slinger, there was Ratu waiting, challenging him with an even stronger deck.
Was this the game developers’ way of nudging card slingers forward? A hidden mechanic, pushing him along, rewarding his progress? Or was it something more insidious? A system designed to pull down hidden-class players by forcing them to risk what they’d fought for?
Would other NPCs start appearing now? One after another, their decks primed to strip him of his best cards?
And then there was the bigger question.
They… It can’t be the same ‘they’ Ronan warned me about, can it?
What were the odds that the very enemies of the Zulmirs were the ones supplying Ratu with cards?
On one hand, it wasn’t impossible. Ronan himself was the one who first approached Ratu, gifting him a deck to challenge Deckard with. If the Zulmirs had taken the initiative, couldn’t their enemies do the same?
But on the other hand… it didn’t add up.
Ronan was secretive to a fault. Would he really involve Ratu in his business, risking his enemies tracing their way back to him? No, this felt different. More likely, it was another faction. Another player in the shadows.
Someone with resources.
Someone with enough cards to lend them out without hesitation.
Someone with access to epic-tier cards.
And someone powerful enough to make Ratu believe his life was over.
Deckard gulped.
And now, I’ve taken an epic card from them.
For now, he didn’t have enough to go on. All he could do was swim back to shore.
With each stroke through the waves, Ratu’s face lingered in his mind. The wild fear in his eyes. The way his voice shook—not just with anger, but something deeper.
Dread.
He looked terrified. I wonder what’s going to happen to him…
Deckard clenched his jaw and shook his head sharply.
He’s just an NPC. Right?
The thought should have settled the matter. It didn’t. A chill crept over him, but whether it was from the cold water or something else, he couldn’t tell.
With a sharp exhale, he shoved the uncertainty aside. Right now, all he could do was keep swimming. The short break aboard Ratu’s boat had been enough to recover his stamina, and Deckard swam toward shore with strong, steady strokes.
Within minutes, he was hauling himself onto the wooden planks near the pier. As he caught his breath, he glanced out over the water. He could see Ratu’s boat on the dock—but the fisherman himself was nowhere to be seen.
Deckard stepped off the pier and made his way down to the sandy beach beneath the village walkways. The slatted planks above let in thin strips of light, casting uneven patterns across the shore.
He pulled out his repository, flipping it open before carefully sliding in his three newly claimed cards.
A faint glow pulsed across the pages as the repository absorbed them. Ink-like lines spread across the paper, forming a fresh section for sharks. The Whale Shark and its smaller counterparts settled into place, shimmering briefly before the book snapped shut with finality.
A notification flashed before his eyes:
Your collection has been updated.
+1.4 attack
Deckard’s eyebrows shot up. “Whoa. A full attack point?!”
The Whale Shark alone had given him a boost comparable to the boss and two elites of Molting Grotto combined. That was huge. He was starting to become a force to be reckoned with.
I have to find out where Ratu got those cards.
He paced on the sand as he mulled it over. Then, he made his decision.
I was heading there anyway.
*
Ronan’s shop wasn’t empty this time. A couple of fresh-faced players huddled around a bin, marveling at each piece of equipment like it was a lost relic. New arrivals to the village, no doubt.
Ronan was scribbling something in his ledger, as usual.
Deckard stepped forward. “Mr. Ronan, I’ve dealt with the monsters on Trash Islet,” he said evenly as if they didn’t know each other.
Ronan looked up, a flicker of approval in his eyes. “Very well. That should make it easier for me to restock the shop,” he said with a pleased smile. Then, with a casual shrug, he added, “Still behind on chores, though. I need more stock. Feel like bringing me a hundred random pieces of trash?”
Chain Quest Activated: [Restocking the Shelves] has been changed into [Restocking the Shelves II].
Deckard’s research had paid off. Without a word, he pulled up his inventory and dropped two full stacks of garbage onto the counter.
“Here’s two hundred.”
Ronan’s eyes widened slightly before he let out a chuckle. “Well, well, looks like you’ve got a real talent for trash collecting.”
You’ve completed [Restocking the Shelves II].
Completion Rate: S
Quest Rewards: [Ronan’s Recommendation Letter]
Bonus Rewards: +20 Reputation (Stiltwave Village), +5 Silver, one piece of equipment from Ronan’s secret stash.
Wow! An S-grade? That must be from how quickly I turned in the quest—or maybe because I handled those elites on Trash Islet.
“Since you seem to know your way around, have you ever heard of Aquascape?”
Deckard nodded. “The nearby city, right?”
“Exactly.” Ronan leaned forward, lowering his voice slightly. “At the center of the island, there’s a cave that leads into an underground tunnel. That tunnel connects our island and Aquascape. Plenty of adventurers try their luck down there—a dangerous place. Strong creatures lurk there.”
He grabbed a piece of paper and scribbled something onto it. “I’ve got a buddy there—works at the recycling factory. If you ever find yourself in town and need a friendly face, show him this letter.” He handed over the folded parchment. “He’ll help you.”
Deckard accepted it with a nod. “Thanks.”
This was one of Ronan’s most well-known quest chains, and completing it unlocked a new profession in the next region. Even though Deckard wasn’t particularly interested in crafting professions, he had chosen to do this quest for another reason.
Ronan was a Zulmir. Who knew? Maybe his contact in Aquascape was one, too. Maybe every garbage-related NPC in this game was secretly an alien. The letter might prove helpful later.
Everything lined up with what he had read online—except for the extra reward.
That last part made him pause. A piece of equipment from Ronan’s secret stash? That wasn’t in the guides… Was it because of my S-rank?
Ronan patted his pockets before finally pulling out a small, rusted key. “Since you worked fast, I’ll throw in something extra,” he said, tossing it to Deckard. “Go open that chest over there. Take anything you want.”
“T-thanks.”
Deckard walked over to the chest in the corner—just another cracked crate with a rusty lock that matched the key. Probably junk. Still, he wasn’t about to turn down free loot.
The lock resisted at first, but after a few tries, it finally gave way.
