Card Apprentice Daily Log

Chapter 2845: Peyote’s Long Game

Date: Unspecified

Time: Unspecified

Location: Myriad Realms, Card World, Southern Region, Blossom District, Three Mischief Encampment

"Well, what do we have here?" I said aloud, dragging the Emissary’s unconscious body along. My gaze shifted to Peyote, who had rooted himself into the ground, struggling to keep the Breath of Erosion from eating further into his divinity under the watchful eyes of Dredre, Field Marshal Lorn, and Karl.

I handed the Emissary’s unconscious body off to Karl and turned my attention to one of the living Ten Commandments in the flesh. Considering what this world had already done to his peers, I couldn’t help but wonder what gave him the confidence to step into it. Then again, maybe he hadn’t been thinking at all.

At my approach, a pair of beady eyes and a rugged mouth formed on the massive cactus. Locking onto me, it spoke, "Who are you?"

I looked at Peyote in mild surprise. He hadn’t bothered speaking to Karl, Dredre, or even the Field Marshal, yet he chose to address me directly. I could understand ignoring Karl or Dredre—one had nothing to do with the Devil Merchant Code, and the other was a pixie, beneath even slaves in their eyes. But the Field Marshal? She was a legitimate Devil Merchant. And still, he skipped her to speak with me—a mere demon merchant.

Then again, the Sandalphon had already noticed me stalking them through the bloodstorm clouds and tried to use its eye’s ability to read my emotions and memories attached to it, but I stopped it ruthlessly.

Also, Peyote seemed far more perceptive of his enemies than Slay had ever been. The Field Marshal might have been the most physically imposing among us, but her bearing made it clear she wasn’t the one in charge.

That aside... what did he mean by ’Who are you?’ Couldn’t he tell I was just a demon merchant native to this realm? Or was he asking about my background?

"That’s a damn pixie. How do you have one with you? Don’t you dare lie to me. She may seem braver, may even slip in and out of the River of Reincarnation and wield Breath of Erosion, but I know a lowly pixie when I see one.

"Are you serving one of the families under the Librarian? I heard his youngest—the one currently in charge of the Infinity Library in the inter-realm city, Zaltan Librarian Jr.—leads the Pixie Tribal Confederation. I’m guessing you answer to him."

Peyote laid out his entire line of thought without restraint, clearly trying to flaunt his deduction skills.

I wasn’t impressed.

It was common knowledge that all existing pixies in the Myriad Realm fell under the Librarian’s influence. At the same time, no one doubted that every last one of them was accounted for and belonged to the Librarian. There was no room for exceptions, stray pockets hidden somewhere beyond reach. Thanks to the Librarian and the Devil Merchant Code’s terrifying divination abilities. These two weren’t considered among the top beings closest to achieving transcendence in the myriad realm for nothing.

Any dark race or demon or devil merchant who saw me with Dredre outside the Infinity Library would come to the same conclusion—that I served the Librarian. It was the most natural assumption. Peyote had simply followed that line of thought. The difference was that he seemed to know more about the inner workings of the Infinity Library than most. I guessed that either he or the former members of the Ten Commandments had once been VVIP patrons there. In that case, this level of awareness wasn’t surprising.

"What are you getting at?" I asked, looking at the massive cactus. It was obvious he was trying to negotiate.

"I don’t know how someone like you managed to join the Librarian’s faction, but I want in. Even if it means serving under you."

The beady eyes and rough mouth on the cactus strained to form something resembling sincerity, doing their best to sell the proposal.

Having only just been reborn, Peyote had no intention of dying again. And this time, if Breath of Erosion took him, there would be no return—no rebirth in the Dark Realm.

So even if survival meant serving someone weaker than him, Peyote was willing to accept it without hesitation. More than that, it gave him a way into the Librarian’s faction—one of the top three ruler-class powers in the Myriad Realms.

From his perspective, this wasn’t rock bottom. It was an opportunity knocking on his door. The demon merchant before him wasn’t a threat, but a doorway. Once inside the Librarian’s faction, he could earn that demon merchant’s trust, learn the internal structure, and use it to his advantage. With his strength, climbing the Librarian Faction’s pecking order would only be a matter of time.

In his mind, this was the start of a comeback. One where he would settle scores—especially with the loan sharks who were trying to bleed him dry under unfair interest rates.

But all of it hinged on one thing: convincing the demon merchant in front of him to trust him enough to take him in as his subordinate. And that wouldn’t be easy—not with the gap in their strength.

Peyote weighed his options. If it came to it, he was even willing to sign a decade- or century-long slave contract—dressed up as employment—just to earn the demon merchant’s trust. Given his current situation and what he stood to gain, a few decades of servitude didn’t seem like much.

Even if the alternative wasn’t death and he somehow made it out of this alive and returned to the Dark Realm, his life right now was worse than that of a slave on the run. Every nobody was crawling out of the cracks and grabbing his collar, claiming his old faction owed them something.

If he wanted a real comeback, he had to be decisive—and play the long game. That said, he hadn’t forgotten this was still a negotiation. He wasn’t about to hand himself over without resistance. Whatever the outcome, he intended to secure the best terms he could.