Proofreader & Editor: Peter Pan
"Is he also carrying a domain card in this field?"
Inside the Grand View Garden, the yet-to-be-perfected Autumn Refreshing Studio was shrouded in a chilling mist.
Chronicle stood in the octagonal pavilion atop the southeastern mound, surveying the surroundings.
This was one of the highest points within the garden.
From this vantage point, he could see everything in the arena below.
Coin indeed had something special, or rather, his family did.
At least in Chronicle's view, this domain was nearly flawless in design.
The main scene was an endless wilderness, ensuring he wouldn't be easily ambushed.
And the detailed designs like graves, charity houses, rivers, and small temples provided perfect spots to place card spirits.
Moreover, in this domain, he could freely control time and weather, providing various advantages for his own tactics.
"This kid really isn't good at crafting domain cards, but it's precisely because of this that his family goes all out to fill in the gaps for him."
"By now, he's definitely the most troublesome guy in domain matches, bar none."
"That's the advantage of having a strong backing."
Thinking this, Chronicle couldn't help but sigh lightly as he leaned on the railing.
Considering his own situation, having crossed over to this world alone, without a system or a simulator, relying solely on his knowledge.
Choosing crafting targets usually took a lot of effort, incomparable to those second-generation kids who had mentors to help and had to come up with their own stories.
Such was the disparity between people.
He had to "fend for himself."
With this thought, his gaze towards Coin changed.
—It was these naturally advantaged folks who stole the opportunities from honest, self-reliant people like him, deserving a thorough thrashing.
"Yingtai, Daiyu."
With his light call, two young girls instantly appeared by his side.
One transformed into the Red and White Makeup form, her face covered in funeral cosmetics, both horrifying and coldly beautiful;
The other also wore funeral cosmetics, but instead of a bridal dress, she was clad in plain white.
One red, one white; one joy, one sorrow.
Both had an indescribable charm beyond their usual internet-addicted girl and tech geek personas.
"They're quite attractive."
Chronicle's eyes flickered, inadvertently revealing his excitement.
But he quickly regained his gentlemanly demeanor, patted the shoulders of the two girls, and directed them to their positions.
Yingtai naturally went to sit in the sedan chair, while Daiyu circled the Heavy Yin Fragrant Cedar Coffin three times to the left and three times to the right, before kicking the coffin over with one foot.
"What man's leftovers would I want?"
Though she couldn't speak, her eyes clearly conveyed these words.
Seeing this, Chronicle couldn't help but smack his lips: "Good thing I came prepared."
Thinking this, he raised his hand and produced a dark red wooden coffin adorned with an exotic floral pattern.
He had made it during a craft class before the competition.
It had no added functionality and didn't meet the regulations; it was simply good-looking.
But the young girls from Qingshan liked this kind of flashy stuff. When YoYo and Ginger Tea saw it, their eyes lit up.
Chronicle had originally planned to use this as a template for an online store to make some pocket money, but now Daiyu had taken it for herself.
"Hmph~"
A slightly haughty snort sounded in his mind, and the young girl pointed at the Manjusaka on the coffin, pouting her lips.
Chronicle slapped his forehead, suddenly remembering that this jealous girl was also of the plant kind, and promptly promised, "Next time, I'll draw you."
Upon hearing this, Daiyu nodded gently, her lips moved slightly, and she gracefully lay down in the coffin.
Yingtai was baffled, vaguely aware that the other was playing with something very new, but she couldn't understand it at all.
She couldn't help but show a simple expression, quite at odds with her coldly beautiful aura.
"Both 'Red Evil Qi' and 'White Evil Qi' are in place, the suona band, paper sedan bearers, and coffin bearers have all been upgraded…"
"Now it's time for me, the 'groom'."
Thinking this, Chronicle summoned the skin card that Xie Wenyuan had given him a few days ago.
One of the cards had been painted with a ghastly image of him as the main character, in the guise of a groom, pale-faced, crazed, with a blood-red flower on his chest, riding a paper horse.
As he slowly infused his mental energy, the card transformed into a red light that fell upon him.
***
Moments later, Chronicle abruptly opened his eyes and pulled out a small craft mirror from his pocket.
He saw his handsome face, altered by expression changes and pale makeup, exuding a strong sense of madness. With a slight tilt of his head, it sent chills down one's spine.
"It turns out I'm the most sinister in this team."
Chronicle smiled faintly, the image in the mirror becoming even more ferocious, and a cold, low laugh emanated from his throat.
No wonder the makeup of Jiuzhou is considered sorcery. Looking at the face in the mirror, even Chronicle himself felt a bit estranged.
"That's the effect I want."
He thought to himself, kicked the paper horse, and led the Red Evil Qi team into the wilderness.
With his appearance, the clear skies that Coin had maintained were replaced by a dark and oppressive gloom.
In the boundless wilderness, a cold wind suddenly blew, chilly and clammy, making even the robust Coin shiver.
His domain card named "Epic of the Qingshan Brave" could indeed affect day and night weather, but that was based on a stable magnetic field.
However, "Red and White Collision," as a top-tier underworld technique, gathered the extreme emotions of great joy and great sorrow.
The density of the Evil Qi was born to disrupt the magnetic field.
A single collision broke Coin's home field advantage.
The domain covered by the gloomy mist now belonged entirely to Chronicle.
The sharp and eerie sound of the suona spread across the wilderness, sending chills down one's spine.
***
"Is it coming already?"
Coin's brow furrowed slightly, but a smile appeared on his face.
He enjoyed challenging strong opponents.
Gao Sheng and Yu Anran were schoolmates, with dozens of battles big and small, some won, some lost, nothing interesting.
Yan Lou, Lü Re, and others were good players, but at best they were on his level, perhaps even slightly inferior.
Only Chronicle had always exuded a sense of strength and mystery.
Some said he took advantage of the rules to be "invincible" in the previous rounds, defeating contemporaries like Lu Shiping, Yan Lou, and Yu Anran.
But Coin believed that these rules were actually a constraint on him.
Without these shackles, this civilian genius would only be more terrifying.
And for this reason, Coin dreamed of fighting Chronicle.
A head-on clash.
And this domain confrontation was exactly what he wanted.
Thinking this, Coin couldn't help but smile.
He flipped out several summoning cards and integrated them into the domain:
"One-Eyed Rusty Butcher" sat under a crooked old locust tree that appeared out of nowhere;
"Hundred-Scarred Prisoner" held a pitted shackle and iron ball, guarding by his side;
"Straw Hat Frozen Fish Assassin" hid in the river, ready to strike, with a twisted shadow trailing behind;
"Red-Robed Sneering Demon Monk" sat in the temple, behind the slightly ajar temple doors, was a "Buddha" head weeping blood.
With the supporting characters in place, it was time for the protagonist to make an entrance.
An emaciated old man with white hair, carrying a sand pot on his head and wearing a white lab coat from who knows where, rode an old, peeling tricycle into the arena.
Between his right hand and the handlebar was a long, straight wooden stick.
His murky, chaotic eyes shone with unwavering courage and confidence.
The story began with an old man suffering from Alzheimer's, confined at home by his children, left to entertain himself with comic books he hadn't managed to sell as scrap.
Day and night, his brain gradually dried up, losing all reason.
His mind was filled with heroes, cards, magic, and god-slaying tales, all from the books taken as truth.
So one night, he unlocked the door, took his scrap-collecting tricycle as his steed, put on a sand pot from the trash as a helmet, stole a lab coat from a clinic as a cape.
He found a good stick and set off alone on his "ride."
He caused countless laughs, mistaking buildings for monsters, underpasses for safe houses, shops for the heads of demons, and believing that the card masters searching for him on behalf of his children were disciples of evil gods.
And so he went on his way.
Until one stormy night, a towering figure appeared at the end of the city.
People fell into despair.
The rather comical old man, however, stood tall and straight, riding his tricycle, charging at the invincible deity.
In the end, he died tragically under the hooves of the deity's chariot.
Or rather, under the wheels of a concrete mixer…
Such an absurd and comical story, supported by ultra-rare materials, became Coin's strongest card spirit and the core of this domain card.
The old man in the story was a "madman," but as a card spirit, he could truly "slay gods."
Coin even believed that this card's strength ranked first among all the summoning cards of the "Qingshan Cup" contestants.
That was his confidence.
"Uncle Tang, prepare to charge."
Coin said solemnly, leaping forcefully into the tricycle's basket, sitting on bags of urea filled with garbage bottles, with "The Hundred-Scarred Prisoner" awkwardly squeezed next to the compacted cardboard boxes.
The old man with long hair and a dirty face wiped his nose with his sleeve, grinned with missing teeth, and carried the two towards the pale red mist ahead.
"Do you remember the day when the phoenixes were joyous in their flight, or do you think of the butterfly's ingratitude on another branch, or do you pity the old love with no place to stay, or do you think of the orphan with no mother or father…"
The cold song spread through the air, interspersed with sharp and terrifying suona sounds.
In the pale red mist, a procession slowly approached.
The leading figure was somewhat emaciated, tilting his head, his face powdered and slightly blushed.
"Melons and gourds extend in succession, hearts and minds in harmony. Suitable for home, suitable for family, a perfect match made in heaven!"
The person next to the groom shouted loudly, with a bit of a duck's voice, hopping along and scattering paper flowers.
Following behind, the sedan bearers in short coats, vests, and small hats smiled gently, carrying the big red flower sedan with light steps.
At the very end was the suona band, their pale hands with blackened fingertips and bulging veins gripping the suona poles, with penetrating force.
The heavy and sharp rhythm was almost suffocating.
One felt countless cold winds drilling into their collar, with a hundred ghosts lurking in the shadows.
Even Coin, the tough guy, felt an intense sense of suffocation.
It was as if what lay before him wasn't a wedding procession, but the very concept of "death" itself.
No matter how much you ran or struggled, you couldn't escape, and the air was filled with a near-despairing sense of fate.