Miracle Card Shop: All My Cards Can Be Actualize

— Night - Fort Sumner Frontline —

— Albert POV —

The Slippery Eel, The Liar, The Heartbreaker, and The Master of Whisperer—these are all my aliases, titles I wear proudly like badges of honor, even if some are less than flattering. They define who I am, Albert Worseley.

Truth be told, after being betrayed and stabbed to death by one of my women, my memory fades. I can't recall if I ended up in hell or heaven... but let's face it, people like me don't earn a place in heaven. What I do know is that I have no recollection of anything after my death.

What I do remember is that The Hightower had been planning my demise for some time. They weren't happy that I knew a little bit too much about their dirty little secrets—deals with the Hell Lord, the Vatican, and even the Olympian Gods.

I can only speculate about what happened after my death, but I'm certain the Alchemont Clan must have wiped out all my associates and employees. They don't take risks with their secrets, even though I had no intention of selling these secrets to anyone.

As for how they found out about my knowledge of their secrets, I suspect they had a prophet or diviner informing them. It's the only explanation for their knowledge.

But all of that is in the past. If I were to have a chance for revenge, that would be good, but if not, that's okay too. Since my resurrection, I refuse to let grudges cloud my mind and tarnish my thoughts.

To be honest, what helped me let go of anger and hatred wasn't some newfound benevolence; I'm quite petty, in fact. It was the scenes I witnessed upon my resurrection by my lord that truly allowed me to release those feelings.

The scenes revealed the truth of magic, the essence of all things, and the boundless possibilities that magic can create. Magic in this world is the manipulation of reality using mana, an energy capable of bending reality to one's will.

Witnessing the potential of mana to manifest anything left a lasting impression on me. The knowledge infused into my mind and the sense of loyalty, though unfamiliar, felt natural—a spell, perhaps, to ensure my allegiance.

Heh… How paranoid my new master must be, resorting to such spells. But even without them, I would never betray him. Serving a mage who can unlock countless possibilities is a dream come true. As far as I know, I am the only mage besides my lord who witnesses the root of magic. If given the chance to study it, the sky would be the limit for me!

Walking through the expansive military airport alongside my colleague Maria, The Vampire, I caught sight of my lord waving to us. Near him were several folding desks and chairs, along with the modern machinery known as notebook PCs.

Speaking of Maria, her name Maria struck a familiar chord with me, and the fact that she's a vampire adds to the intrigue. Could she be the adopted daughter of Vlad Tepez the Impaler? It's highly probable, given my lord's ability to resurrect people without giving a fuck for the gods of death or their laws.

His method of resurrection commands respect even from the deities themselves, since it's the true resurrection.

"Mr. Worseley, what do you need to set up your bureau within a week? Keep in mind that I can't go to London to set up your Whispering Hall for you," my lord inquired.

Yes, my own bureau. But what did my lord just say? Set up the Whispering Hall for me? Ha ha ha, he must be joking. My Whispering Hall is as mysterious and magical as the Hightower HQ, with numerous magical equipment for contacting different divisions, training facilities for spies, and a space for freelancers to anonymously sell their information to us.

Even though my lord is powerful, there's no way he can set up the Whispering Hall for me. I'm sure those bastards from the Alchemont clan have already razed it to the ground.

"Ha ha ha, it's okay, My Lord. You don't need to go as far as setting up the Whispering Hall for me," I replied, then continued, "As for what I need, firstly, a substantial amount of fund, and secondly, individuals well-versed in intelligence gathering. I don't mind working with ordinary people as long as they can gather information; they're all valuable to me."

My lord smiled but didn't say anything, indicating he might have different thoughts about the Whispering Hall. Perhaps he didn't know that the Whispering Hall itself is a relic, irreplaceable once destroyed. Still, I'll play along. As long as the Whispering Hall retains at least 80% no 60% of its appearance, I can be content with that.

"This card has $100 millions US Dollars loaded. If it's not enough, just call me for more. As for manpower, wait a bit," my lord said, handing me a black gold card before moving forward to stand in a vast open space.

At that moment, I felt a surge of mana ripple through the ground, its volume immense like a tsunami crashing ashore. My lord drawing mana from the land itself!? Controlling such a vast amount of mana is unthinkable for an individual! Even the most powerful mage I know, Lady Envy, would struggle to handle this much mana!

As I observed, a yellow light tunnel descended from the sky, and souls materialized in front of me, coming down as if from a disease. As the light faded, they knelt before my lord one by one. Around 30 of them appeared, each clad in various garments—some in rags akin to beggars, others in commoner or noble attire.

Yet, they all shared an aura of secrecy, indicating their potential as excellent informants if put to work.

Additionally, I noticed individuals in uniforms I recognized—employees of the Whispering Hall, donning dark blue suits with badges and decorations denoting their affiliation. Strangely, I couldn't recall their faces. While I'm not the best at remembering all my employees, I should at least recognize some of them, considering the Whispering Hall's workforce isn't extensive.

However, they all seemed unfamiliar to me.

There were also operatives in snug-fitting attire, the elite agents I often dispatched for intricate information gathering in challenging locations. These individuals, whom I should distinctly remember, felt like strangers. Could death truly affect memory this severely? I doubted it; I've retained many details from my life. It's just that these particular individuals remain entirely unfamiliar.

"Maria, register them and let some of them help registering new employees." My Lord said to Maria.

"Yes, My lord." Maria replied with a smile then immediately went to work on registering.

—

A quarter of an hour into the registration process, my lord had already left, leaving me, Maria, and a handful of others to manage the influx. Fifty new recruits, all resurrected by him – at least, that's the only explanation that keeps me sane.

Creation of life is a power reserved for the divine, and I'm quite certain my lord isn't a god... though the possibility occasionally niggles at the back of my mind.

These newcomers lacked even basic names, yet their skills were undeniable. Their hearing surpassed even my most seasoned operatives from the Whispering Hall's glory days. They possessed an uncanny knack for eavesdropping, nimble fingers for pilfering, and an aptitude for bypassing even the most secure locks.

Then there were the more… questionable individuals. Clad in leather and wielding a variety of well-worn metal convincing tools, their attire spoke volumes of their interrogation techniques. A few pointed inquiries from me confirmed my suspicions that even the most resolute spy would crumble under their ministrations.

The most puzzling aspect, however, was their unwavering recognition of me and the Whispering Hall's inner workings. My own memories, however, held no trace of them. Curious, isn't it?

There are two possibilities that can explain these… mind boggling question. Perhaps my lord, in his unconventional methods, created them from scratch, imbuing them with knowledge of both me and the guild's operations. However, the god theory remains firmly out of the question.

The more likely scenario is a memory lapse – both mine and theirs. My resurrection, a marvel though it may be, might have come with a minor side effect. If forgetting a name is the price for a true second chance, it's a bargain I'm more than willing to accept.

Well, then. It seems both I and these fellows have been granted a remarkable stroke of fortune – a literal second chance at life. This debt I will not take lightly. My first priority will be to gather intelligence from the frontlines, anything that might offer my lord an edge in this conflict.

— Albert POV End —

— A few Days later - Washington DC - White House —

Inside the Oval Office of the White House, General Moore, the current Supreme Leader of the Confederacy, is in discussion with his strategist and advisor regarding the frontline. A large screen before them displays a map of New Mexico and Texas.

The red line indicating the frontline reveals that the US has reclaimed territory from the Territory, and now the frontline is only 50 kilometers away from Austin, the capital of Texas.

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