Understanding the Cardmaker Guild's intent to spotlight him as a model citizen, Russell quickly forced a humble smile and waved his hands.
"Oh, it's nothing, really. In a situation like that, I believe any well-educated citizen of New Metro would've stepped up."
That wasn't entirely true. Most rookie cardmakers froze during senior-year dungeon simulations. Some even failed to activate their cards at all when confronted with real threats.
Still, the Clearwater Branch President thought to himself that while Russell's words might be modest to a fault, his awareness of public optics was impressive.
"Well then, Russell," the president said, nodding. "Let's get your official registration completed first. After that, we'll discuss the interview."
Standing outside the branch building, Russell stared at the Black Iron–level ID card now sitting in his hand.
He felt… dazed.
So this was it.
He was an officially registered cardmaker.
From here, the ranking path stretched long and steep—
Black Iron, Bronze, Silver, Gold, Emerald, Diamond, Master… Hall of Fame.
Today was just the first step.
Earlier, Marcus, the New Metro branch president of the Soulweaver Clan, had told him:
"Russell, we're planning to run a profile piece at your school tomorrow."
"We've already arranged things with the administration."
"The feature will run in the New Metro Daily. How do you feel about that?"
Russell wasn't in a position to object—especially after receiving a 10,000-credit award for his public service.
The only condition: the funds would be transferred after he posed for a few photos.
On the way home, Russell's phone kept buzzing.
Caller ID: Mr. Williams.
He answered. "Hello?"
"Russell!"
The booming voice nearly shattered his eardrum.
He pulled the phone back. "…Still here, sir."
Mr. Williams eventually calmed.
"I heard from the school. What you did—are you okay? Are you hurt?"
Russell felt a flicker of warmth.
"I'm fine, sir. Not even a scratch. It was just a few Ghouls."
"Glad to hear it. Get some rest tonight. And tomorrow morning—make sure you look presentable. That's all."
Russell smiled as the call ended.
Really? All that drama for that?
Ding. Transit Pass Used.
The next morning, Russell rose early and boarded the city bus.
Today marked the official start of the school year for high schools across New Metro.
"Morning, Russell."
A slick-haired boy plopped down beside him.
"Morning, Marvin."
Marvin—the son of small business owners—had been a borderline acquaintance of the "old Russell."
Their relationship was… cordial, if not close.
As Russell leaned against the window, Marvin turned, barely able to contain himself.
"So, how's your cardmaking going?"
Russell grinned. Ah. There it was.
Sure enough, Marvin puffed up proudly.
"Got lucky over the break. Managed to make a Black Iron–grade green card!"
Not bad for the start of senior year. A Green-tier card this early meant Marvin might reach Blue-tier by graduation—enough for certification.
Marvin was clearly hoping Russell hadn't done much during the break. Or that, as an orphan, he hadn't had the means.
He waited for a reaction—maybe envy. Maybe admiration.
Instead, Russell simply said, "Good for you."
No sarcasm. No smugness.
He didn't feel the need to put Marvin in his place.
To him, Marvin was just another high schooler. Not worth crushing.
Marvin scratched his head.
Russell felt… different today. He couldn't quite say how.
Ding. Next Stop: New Metro First High. Please disembark in an orderly fashion.
"Come on, we're here," Marvin said, grabbing his backpack.
As they stepped off, Russell spotted Mr. Williams pacing near the school gate.
"Morning, Mr. Williams," Marvin greeted.
Mr. Williams nodded, then immediately pulled Russell aside.
"Come on—everyone's waiting."
As the teacher dragged Russell away, Marvin furrowed his brows.
Then an idea struck.
He bolted into the classroom and announced:
"Russell's dropping out to get a job!"
He laid out his "evidence"—the quiet bus ride, Russell's gloomy expression, Mr. Williams pulling him away at the gate…
Gradually, his audience began to believe it.
Charity rumors. Transfer theories. Secret injuries. The class buzzed with speculation.
Meanwhile, Russell had already been brought to the principal's office.
Mr. Williams straightened his shirt and knocked.
"Principal Shepherd, I've brought Russell."
"Come in. Reporter Lee and President Marcus have been waiting."
Russell stepped inside, greeting them politely.
"Good morning, Principal Shepherd. President Marcus."
Marcus grinned. "Didn't I tell you? Just call me Uncle Marcus."
He gestured toward a sharply dressed woman with a digital tablet in hand.
"This is Reporter Lee from the New Metro Daily."
She shook Russell's hand warmly. "Nice to meet you. Just a short interview today—nothing to worry about."
"Russell, why did you choose to act during such a dangerous incident?"
Russell answered smoothly:
"Because my neighbors at Harmony Heights needed help. And I believe any student from New Metro First High, or any cardmaker from the Soulweaver Clan, would've done the same."
Principal Shepherd beamed. That was a perfect answer.
Reporter Lee followed up:
"Is it true you created a Purple-tier card on your very first try?"
Russell suppressed a sigh.
Didn't she know card specs were typically classified?
But he remained composed.
"I was lucky. The story I built resonated well with the materials. I couldn't have done it without the guidance I received at school—and from the Clan."
Principal Shepherd's smile widened.
This boy had talent and political awareness. A rare combination.
Reporter Lee wrapped up her notes.
"Can I get a photo of you with the principal and Uncle Marcus?"
She handed him a cloth banner reading:
Fearless Student of First High – A Model of Heroism!
Russell winced internally. This had to be a school-made prop.
Still, he posed with a polite smile.
"Perfect," said Reporter Lee. "Thank you for your cooperation."
"Can I go now?" Russell asked hopefully.
"Hold on," said Principal Shepherd, eyes twinkling. "You've already received an award from the Clan—but New Metro First High has a gift of its own as well."