The Second Ancient Knowledge (Part 2)

Card User.

Considerable time had passed before this particular Ancient Knowledge was revealed to the general player base. Rumors claimed a select few had hoarded the knowledge among themselves beforehand, but that hardly mattered. Rarity among Ancient Knowledge did not inherently denote excellence. In the case of Card User, though players initially marveled at its novelty, heads shook in collective disappointment once its true mechanics came to light.

There was good reason for their disillusionment: possessing the Ancient Knowledge: Card User accomplished virtually nothing on its own. Its solitary Soul Skill, Card Synthesis, was bafflingly vague. Though it sounded grand on paper, in practice it was a useless white elephant—a riddle wrapped in an enigma that left players clueless as to how to exploit it.

Of course, as time wore on, players gradually pieced together a rough understanding of what Card Synthesis entailed. The problem, however, was that grasping the concept was a far cry from being able to effectively utilize it. Ultimately written off as unusable garbage, Card User was cast into obscurity. Forgotten legacies like this were hardly rare among Ancient Knowledge, so nobody gave it a second thought.

And so it lay abandoned for nearly a decade—until Sanghyuk breathed life back into it.

Tap, tap.

Sanghyuk knocked twice on the green felt, checking his hand once more. From the moment he had stepped into the casino, he had parked himself at the lowest-stakes Seven Poker table, grinding hand after hand without pause. Most people visited casinos to gamble for profit or chase adrenaline, but Sanghyuk was playing for an entirely different purpose.

Another dud.

Glancing at his fifth card, Sanghyuk shook his head and folded. The hidden condition to unlock the Ancient Knowledge: Card User was straightforward in concept: assemble every standard poker hand achievable at the casino's Seven Poker tables. Specifically, one had to complete eight distinct combinations: One Pair, Two Pair, Three of a Kind, Straight, Flush, Full House, Four of a Kind, and Straight Flush.

At a glance, it might have sounded simple enough, but in reality it was an agonizing test of endurance. Seven Poker enjoyed little popularity in the casino, leaving the tables sparsely populated. Assembling every single rank under such sluggish conditions was an ordeal—especially Four of a Kind and the astronomical rarity of a Straight Flush.

For that reason, Sanghyuk had chosen the lowest-stakes table available, betting the absolute bare ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠minimum while focusing entirely on engineering the required hands. Since profiting was never his goal, he folded ruthlessly the moment a round showed zero promise of building a missing combination.

Whew. Just Four of a Kind and a Straight Flush left... but damn, they refuse to drop.

Two full days had elapsed since he entered the casino. Aside from mandatory physical rest intervals, Sanghyuk had remained glued to his seat.

Well, they'll show up eventually.

He felt no anxiety. Such unshakeable composure belonged only to someone who already held the definitive answer.

The final card...

With a faint pulse of anticipation, Sanghyuk gently peeled up the corner of his seventh card. The Ace of Hearts gleamed back at him. The moment he confirmed the suit and value, he gave a quiet, measured nod.

Done.

He had snagged Four of a Kind three days ago, but the Straight Flush had stubbornly refused to appear until now.

Has it been exactly a week?

Pushing legal log-in limits to their absolute brink, Sanghyuk had spent an entire week at the casino table to secure his prize. When the final betting round concluded and Sanghyuk flipped over his hidden cards for the showdown, stunned gasps rippled through the table. Yet Sanghyuk paid no mind to their shock; his focus was entirely claimed by the shimmering blue text materializing before his eyes.

Absorb!

With other players crowding around him, Sanghyuk shouted the command in his mind while offering only a subtle nod.

The ancient discipline settled deep into the empty spiritual vessel, and a satisfied smile touched Sanghyuk's lips as he rose from his seat. Having attained his goal, there was no reason to linger in the smoke-filled hall. Though he had parted with a fair amount of coin over the past seven days, he did not regret a single copper.

Card User. This is the true keystone of my Quadra Soul build.

In the previous timeline, Crash Choi Sangyeol—the prodigy Sanghyuk had personally cultivated—was a Double Soul user wielding Shadow Knight and Card Master. Because Sangyeol was effectively a player engineered from the ground up by Sanghyuk, every secret Sangyeol possessed was etched indelibly into Sanghyuk's memory. Thus, even with two empty Soul Holes still remaining, it was imperative that Sanghyuk first engrave Knight and Card User into his core.

Stepping out of the casino without a backward glance, Sanghyuk immediately opened his status window to inspect his newly acquired Ancient Knowledge.

Just as I remembered.

The Ancient Knowledge was identical to what Sanghyuk knew from his past life. It was no exaggeration to say that every strategy he envisioned stemmed from Card User. At a glance, Card User was an undeniably peculiar discipline. Its foremost function was Card Crafting. Nearly everything in EL could be converted into card form, though the methodology differed by category. Standard inanimate items could be converted with ease as long as one held clear ownership, whereas living monsters or beasts required fulfilling complex prerequisites.

Regardless of the target, proper finesse was vital to successful crafting. Conversely, Reversion functioned exactly as its name implied—restoring a card back to its original physical state. If one possessed a worn iron sword, for instance, it could be compressed into a card, stored compactly, and reverted to a tangible blade whenever needed. The catch was that anything converted into a card became immediately and irrevocably soulbound, rendering it impossible to trade. Had trading been permitted, Card User might well have reigned as the preeminent Ancient Knowledge for merchant classes.

Even so, for personal gear, Card Crafting and Reversion allowed effortless inventory management. This was the sole reason Sanghyuk had refrained from purchasing expensive, high-capacity spatial expansion bags despite having ample funds.

Taken at face value, Card User seemed like little more than a glorified storage utility. Yet the true terror of Card User lay neither in Card Crafting nor Reversion.

It was its sole Soul Skill: Card Synthesis.

This was undeniably the most broken skill in all of EL.

The possibilities of Card Synthesis were boundless. ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠Through it, one could execute an endless array of skills free from standard class and resource restrictions. When Choi Sangyeol claimed the title of EL's undisputed champion in the past life, the reaction of every pro gamer who faced him was identical:

The weapon behind Sangyeol's invincible reign was none other than Card Synthesis. More precisely, it was the Card Synthesis powered by the Cheonryong Paebeop that Sanghyuk had developed for him. Nevertheless, that synthesis had propelled Sangyeol to the absolute pinnacle of the professional scene.

Why, then, had such a formidable Ancient Knowledge ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠been so thoroughly shunned by the player base? The reason was deceptively simple.

Because not a single synthesis formula was ever made public...

Synthesis formulas. That was the crux of the problem. An outsider might wonder why players couldn't just discover the formulas through trial and error, but anyone privy to the underlying mechanics knew better.

A single synthesis required four cards. Since virtually everything in EL could be converted into a card, the number of potential ingredient cards was practically astronomical. Had combinations succeeded easily, players might have persevered, eventually cataloging and circulating valid formulas among themselves. Card Synthesis, however, was rarely forgiving.

Even on the rare occasion a combination succeeded, an overwhelming majority of formulas yielded garbage. Certain combinations even detonated upon completion, instantly blowing the unfortunate crafter to pieces. Worse still, whether an attempt succeeded or failed, all consumed cards were permanently destroyed. Testing valuable items as ingredients was a financial gamble few could stomach. Consequently, players shied away from experimentation. Rumors abounded of players who had bankrupted themselves chasing elusive recipes. Even when someone did stumble upon a workable formula through monumental effort, they guarded it zealously, sharing it with no one—save for the occasional transaction at exorbitant prices.

Eventually, dismissed as utterly impractical, fewer and fewer players chose Card User until researchers vanished entirely. Card User was shunned, extinguishing formula sharing; the lack of formulas made Card User even more undesirable. In this vicious cycle, Card User faded into total obscurity within EL.

The one who had dragged Card Synthesis out from the trash heap was, of course, Sanghyuk. After his ruin, he had realized that climbing back from the abyss required an all-or-nothing gamble. His wager was Card Synthesis.

For seven grueling years at rock bottom, he scraped together every scrap of synthesis data whenever opportunity permitted. Struggling to log in despite his wretched VRA, he conducted experiments himself or painstakingly dug up abandoned ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠research notes from past failures, piecing together viable recipes from the ashes. Fortunately, Sanghyuk's gaming intellect was second to none. After nearly seven years of relentless toil, he finally bore fruit: the Cheonryong Paebeop, the very art he imparted to Crash Choi Sangyeol. Comprising twenty-four distinct synthesis formulas, the Cheonryong Paebeop swept through EL like a tempest, igniting a veritable card craze.

Countless players scrambled to emulate Sangyeol's Card Master build, leading to a sudden explosion of shared formulas across communities. Yet none of those shared public formulas ever surpassed the masterpiece Sanghyuk had forged through seven years of blood and sweat. Instead, Sanghyuk took advantage of the surging wave of public research to quietly construct an even greater compendium of formulas behind the scenes—one far superior to the Cheonryong Paebeop. Preparing for the day Team SKY might cast him aside, he had poured every ounce of his resources into amassing formula data, achieving remarkable breakthroughs in record time.

"And what was born from that preparation is the exact recipe catalog I will wield in this life."

A pleasant smile played across Sanghyuk's face as he murmured softly. He was already armed with the formulas he needed.