Chapter 56: Special Treatment

Even though he had been decisively defeated by Shard, Mr. Lavende remained quite excited. Unfortunately, his number had already been called, so he could only rise and leave with a sense of regret, though he carefully tucked Shard's business card away.

After the card game ended and the organizer departed, people had no intention of playing further. Shard sat there, somewhat dazed, as he was invited into a discussion regarding royal gossip, forced to express opinions on a conflict he knew nothing about: the friction between Prince Mogus Cavendish and the Colonel of the Third Steam Equipment Division, Marquis Kalade.

Fortunately, his number was finally called. Seeing an excuse to leave, he stood up hurriedly and took the opportunity to hand out his business cards to those around him; it was an excellent way to solicit business, as those who played Rode cards were almost always wealthy.

He pushed open the side door of the room and entered, not forgetting to close the door behind him. The previous Rode card collector had already departed through the main entrance. At this moment, the only person in the room was an elderly gentleman sitting behind a desk, who yawned and motioned for Shard to sit down.

The room was not large; it could even be described as somewhat cramped. Only a few picture frames on the walls served as decoration, while the Rode card appraiser's desk occupied nearly a quarter of the room's area.

As he sat down, Shard noticed that besides several gas lamps and various lenses, there was a very conspicuous black metal box on the desk, filled with torn Rode cards. On top was the "Ace 1" of the Delarion Hero series that Mr. Lavende had been flaunting—it had no special effects, but the card art was beautiful; unfortunately, it was a forgery.

"Forged Rode cards are to be destroyed. Are you aware of that?"

The elderly man wearing glasses asked. Seeing Shard nod, he gestured for him to present the card for appraisal.

Carefully opening his diary, Shard took out "Sun 3: [Genesis · Silver Moon]" and placed it on the padded mat on the desk. The gloved old man reached out to take it, but after a single glance, his brow furrowed.

"A Silver Moon from the Genesis series?"

He looked up at Shard as if he were looking at a mental patient, clearly disbelieving that anyone would come to appraise such a card.

Nevertheless, he dutifully pulled the lotus-shaped gas lamp closer, turned the light to its maximum intensity, and picked up a magnifying glass to examine the card's details under the light.

Sitting there, Shard felt as though he were waiting for the results of a lottery ticket he had found on the street; suddenly, he didn't feel quite so nervous. However, the man sitting on the other side of the table grew more tense as time passed. It was nearly several dozen minutes before he finally looked up at Shard with a serious expression, his forehead—partially obscured by hair—beaded with sweat.

"A Silver Moon from the Genesis series?"

The question was identical to the one he had asked when Shard first sat down, but the tone was entirely different.

Having roughly grasped the result, Shard merely shook his head.

"I suppose so," he said with practiced composure. Even though he believed he could control his emotions, he still could not suppress his joy at this moment.

"Oh, sir, please wait, please wait! I cannot appraise this card. I must go and fetch someone else."

The old appraiser's hands trembled as he returned the card to Shard. He took off his glasses, grabbed a towel from a nearby rack to wipe his face, and then rushed around the desk toward the door.

"Sir, please don't run off! I'll be right back! Give me three minutes!"

His voice was actually shaking.

*Why would I run?* Shard thought to himself, watching the door close.

He looked down again at the "Sun 3: [Genesis · Silver Moon]," gazing at the lady on the card art who was gracefully lifting a silver moon.

"Come to think of it, the Silver Moon and I truly do share a strange destiny."

The old appraiser did not take three minutes; he hadn't even taken one before rushing back. He leaned against the doorframe, looking as if he were about to suffocate from running.

"Thank goodness, sir, you're still here."

*Why wouldn't I be here?* Shard thought, picking up the card and standing up. Just then, he heard the sound of running in the corridor behind the old appraiser, and a tall, thin middle-aged man in black leather shoes soon appeared. He was dressed in black formal attire and wore a brooch featuring the Ouroboros symbol.

"Cynthia Mark, Vice President of the Tobesk Branch of the Prophet Association."

Panting heavily, the middle-aged man bypassed the old appraiser and stepped forward to shake Shard's hand.

"You should catch your breath before you speak. I'm not going anywhere," Shard said, then whispered, "So, is my card real?"

Mr. Mark invited Shard to the association's third floor for a discussion. This time, it was a formal reception room, complete with servants employed by the association to prepare tea for guests.

Shard took a seat on the sofa in the reception room. After Mr. Mark sat down, two more appraisers, both appearing older than Priest Augu, hurried in.

"Regarding this Silver Moon from the Genesis series, we must conduct a more advanced appraisal, but we will do it right here, before your very eyes. Sir, would you mind waiting a moment longer?"

Vice President Cynthia Mark spoke while wiping sweat from his brow. Shard keenly noticed that the collar of the man's shirt beneath his formal attire was already soaked with perspiration.

"Of course, that's no problem. But the appraisal fee..." Shard said, intentionally hesitating.

"It will still be five pence, of course. You don't need to spend extra," Mr. Mark said. He took the business card Shard handed him and, much like Mr. Lavende before, expressed surprise at the address: "No. 6 St. Dean's Square."

He then asked, "Mr. Hamilton, would you like some refreshments?"

"I think I'll pass for now."

Shard waved him off. Although the Prophet Association was a very formal international institution where incidents like murder for cards were unlikely to occur, as a stranger without any backing, influence, or strength, it was better to remain cautious while traveling.

He looked toward the three elderly appraisers who had been hurriedly summoned. The three of them had already spread out a dense array of tools and lenses on a long table on the other side of the reception room and had lit various uniquely shaped lamps brought by the servants. The grand floor-to-ceiling curtains of the reception room were tightly drawn, shutting out the view of the Yodel Palace silhouette shrouded in morning mist.

"Regarding this Genesis Silver Moon... if it is real, I imagine the Association wouldn't go around announcing it everywhere," Shard said, seemingly offhandedly, without looking at Mr. Mark.

"Of course. The Association is absolutely impartial regarding Rode cards and will never compromise the interests of any collector. That is our principle," Cynthia Mark guaranteed, implicitly treating Shard, the owner of the card, as a collector.

He observed Shard out of the corner of his eye. The man was well-dressed but did not appear to be wealthy; he simply possessed a very unique temperament. After a moment of hesitation, Vice President Mark asked

"Then, if it is convenient, could you tell us the origin of this card? I mean no offense, it's just that the last time the Association saw it was during the 'Great City Player' Rode Card Tournament approximately 127 years ago. That year, Baron Stidwick Byron used this card to reach the finals and stole the show. The Association has wanted to record the whereabouts of this card over the past century. I truly did not expect that I would have the honor of seeing it."