Deckard stood at the edge of the pool in the city’s central square. All around him, players dove in or climbed out, dripping water across the stone.

  This was one of Aquascape’s ocean tunnels, vast submerged conduits that connected the city to the open sea. From here, he could see faint shadows drifting beneath the surface: players swimming through the network, moving between the city’s pools and the open waters beyond.

  He’d seen smaller versions of these from afar during his visit to the garrison, but standing here, poised to plunge in himself, made it all feel real in a new way.

  He checked his stats and gear. Everything was in order. Only one task remained.

  With a flick of his hand, he summoned the [Card Dealer] menu. As a Novice Card Dealer, he was limited to three active decks, each holding six skills.

  Thankfully, the [Card Dealer] skill itself didn’t count toward the cap.

  His dimensional binder held several hundred cards, mostly skills, collected through wagers after several long days in Terralore. All of them usable. All of them viable.

  Which meant it was time to make some hard choices.

  His foot tapped against the smooth stone tile as he scrolled through the menu, rows of shimmering cards sliding past.

  Focus. Start with the non-negotiables.

  He dragged [Card Slinging] and [Subdimensionalize] into the first two slots. Without those, he couldn’t even throw a card, let alone capture anything inside the dungeon.

  Next came an obvious pick: [Webbed Feet Gene]. The swimming speed bonus and underwater breathing weren’t optional.

  That left three slots.

  And that’s where things got tricky. This was a level 20 dungeon, nearly triple the level of the last one he’d cleared. With only six skills to work with, the margin for error was thin.

  The outcome of the run hinged on these decisions—and so did his chances in the upcoming Terralore private tournament.

  He opened the filter for class-unique skills.

  [Telekinetic Reload] and [Repository Recharge] caught his eye. Both handled reloading mid-combat. One pulled three cards back into his hand. The other regenerated ammunition over time and expanded his throwing deck.

  There wasn’t any doubt here. [Telekinetic Reload] was still in its basic form, while he’d already upgraded [Repository Recharge] twice, boosting its regeneration rate and the size of his throwing deck. It was the superior choice.

  He slotted it in.

  The remaining class-specific skills were active, offensive skills: [Four Aces], [Power Throw], and [Rainbow Throw].

  [Four Aces] had been a staple so far, letting him shuffle four telekinetically charged cards into his deck. But with his deck now approaching sixty cards, the value of a four-card shuffle was starting to drop off.

  He struck it from the list.

  [Heavy Shot] stood out as a solid choice.

  Heavy Shot (Uncommon)

  Description: By channeling all your body movements into one throw, you can deliver a devastating strike.

  Effect: Active. 250% damage with a single throw.

  Cooldown: 30 seconds

  Energy: 10

  Two hundred and fifty percent damage in one throw. It was straightforward and reliable.

  But he’d unlocked something that might be even better after completing the macaw mini-set.

  Rainbow Throw (Uncommon)

  Description: Tropical birds use colors to issue warnings to predators and communicate with their kin. You’ve figured out how to use them to attack.

  Effect: Active. Throw three cards simultaneously in a fan pattern. 100% damage if you hit 1, 250% if you hit 2, and 400% damage if you hit all 3.

  Cooldown: 45 seconds

  Energy: 15

  He hadn’t tested this skill yet, but it had the potential to deal almost twice as much damage as [Heavy Shot]. And since he couldn’t throw cards as far underwater, he’d be forced to fight at closer range. At point-blank range, hitting all three cards wouldn't be difficult.

  He slotted [Rainbow Throw] in.

  One slot to go.

  He scrolled through the remaining candidates. [Islander’s Path] offered a massive passive buff, but he figured his recent stat climb might let him skip it for now.

  Plenty of other options remained in his collection. Movement skills, buffs, debuffs, healing, crowd control.

  Too many possibilities. He decided to leave the final slot open.

  With his skills selected, he closed the menu. That was everything.

  He paused at the edge. Then he took a breath and dove in.

  The noise of the square faded behind him, replaced by the muffled hush of rushing water.

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  Lamps embedded in the tunnel walls cast steady beams, guiding swimmers through the current. Players moved past him in both directions.

  Pure humans were easy to spot. They looked the clunkiest, wrapped in diving gear from head to toe.

  Oceanlings were unmistakable too. They glided through the water, overtaking human players without effort.

  He spotted a lizardman, one of the starting races. Its thick tail gave it an extra burst of momentum with every kick. Deckard raised an eyebrow.

  Cool. He hadn’t known they could do that.

  The fastest swimmers were the ones riding mounts. Some held onto dolphins' dorsal fins, letting them pull forward with minimal effort. Others cruised along in shark-drawn carriages.

  Deckard kicked off to join the current. His improved stats and hydrodynamic necklace gave him a noticeable boost, but it still felt like everyone else was faster.

  Time to activate turbo.

  Webbed Feet Gene!

  A ticklish sensation spread between his toes, followed by a prickling at the sides of his neck.

  +50% swimming speed

  -25% lightning resistance

  You can now breathe underwater

  His body surged forward as the skill activated. He opened his mouth, expecting a mouthful of water, and instead drew in a smooth, easy breath. It felt no different from breathing air.

  Every kick felt lighter. Every movement flowed with less resistance.

  He grinned as the current carried him along.

  He felt like a fish in water. Literally.

  Now that he had gained some speed, he no longer felt like the runt of the litter. He swam with ease, weaving through the current, leaving other players behind.

  He still couldn’t keep up with the true Oceanlings, but overtaking regular humans in diving gear—or even lizardmen using their tails for extra propulsion—was easy.

  The tunnel twisted and branched. At intersections, players flowed in from other pools scattered across the city. Fortunately, there were plenty of signs to keep him oriented. He passed markers pointing toward the Crafting District, University, Garrison, and other destinations across Aquascape.

  He followed only one: Ocean.

  The tunnel ended. The walls fell away.

  Deckard passed the threshold and emerged into the open sea.

  A vast blue-black expanse opened around him. Shafts of light filtered down in shimmering columns, but beyond that shimmer stretched nothing but darkness. Below him, kelp swayed gently, anchored to coral ridges.

  The traffic spread out as players fanned in every direction. Some, especially those in diving gear, rose toward the surface, likely heading for nearby islands or land dungeons.

  Oceanlings stayed submerged, gliding through the deep to hunt or complete quests, simply disappearing into the blue.

  Deckard floated in place as others moved past him.

  Whoa. Isn’t this something?

  He was deep.

  The deepest he’d ever gone in real life was two meters—in a pool. On Beginner Island, maybe ten at most. But this had to be at least fifty meters.

  The pressure surrounded him, cool and heavy, but it didn’t suffocate. Thanks to the [Webbed Feet Gene], he breathed easily. The water felt more like air than anything else.

  He began swimming.

  All around him, players were busy. Some clashed with fish as big as a man, trying to wear them down with skills and teamwork. One fish rammed into a group hard enough to send them scattering.

  There were also Fishing players who used sleek harpoons or nets to hunt smaller fish.

  Deckard’s eyes lit up. He didn’t own the card for any of these fish. After all the wagers and captures, it was humbling to see a fish so common this close to the city gates and realize he hadn’t owned the card for it yet. He still had a long way to go in completing his regional collection.

  Farther down, others struck at veined stone with pickaxes, sending up clouds of silt. It was the first time Deckard had seen miners in action, and he watched with interest as they chipped away at the seabed.

  Others crawled the sea floor, brushing aside rocks to find clams and shellfish. One of them lifted the wrong rock and got bit by an eel. The player dropped his basket, pulled out an axe, and dealt with the creature before calmly returning to work.

  So many players, all chasing different goals. Each had their own story, their own reason for being here. And surrounding all of it, a boundless ocean that seemed large enough to hold everything they brought with them—their worries, ambitions, dreams.

  “Awesome,” he whispered. The sea swallowed the word.

  There was an entire world waiting to be explored. And plenty of cards left to collect.

  Deckard added the coordinates of the Sea Currents dungeon to his map and followed the route. As he swam above a group of fishermen combing the seabed, something colorful caught his eye.

  A starfish.

  He already owned the card for this one, but seeing it up close made him wonder if there were new starfish around. That old itch to collect tugged at him.

  Focus, Deckard.

  His time was limited. He’d already spent enough studying the competition and prepping for the Sea Currents dungeon. He couldn’t afford any detours now.

  So he swam on. The fish began to change, the players he passed wore slightly better gear, and the crowd gradually thinned.

  Once he’d left the bustle of the city gates behind, and the density of players with it, he slowed to a stop. Before going any farther, he needed to test his underwater combat readiness.

  He pulled out his deck of throwing cards. It felt thicker now, thanks to [Repository Recharge] expanding his slot count. Taking a steadying breath, he coiled his arm back and launched a card.

  It left his hand cleanly, trailing bubbles as it sliced through the water. But within seconds, it began to wobble. Its momentum dropped off fast, and it drifted downward in a lazy, uneven arc.

  He watched it fall, helpless to correct its course. In a real fight, that kind of throw would be worthless.

  That settles it.

  He opened his binder and dragged a card he’d won in the Gaming Parlor during a recent wager.

  Hydrofoil Dive (Uncommon)

  Description: Inspired by the streamlined plunge of sea-diving finches, this technique shapes your movement and attacks to cut cleanly through water.

  Effect: Passive. Greatly reduces water drag on underwater attacks.

  Even though the skill was uncommon, every mob in the Finch dungeon had a chance of dropping it. Many players in the Water Cave regions used it. With it equipped, he balled a fist and threw a quick punch.

  His arm moved freely, like the water no longer resisted him.

  Let’s try this again.

  He drew another card and let it fly.

  This time, it shot forward like a torpedo. It traveled several meters before slowing, leaving a trail of bubbles in its wake.

  With this, he wouldn’t need to rely on the bulky Burrowing Crab Spear to take on the dungeon’s turtles. His cards would hit hard enough on their own.

  And best of all, he hadn’t needed to grind the Finch dungeon or spend gold at the Auction House.

  He’d won this skill playing Terralore.

  While he was at it, he tested his new offensive skill.

  He grabbed three cards at once.

  Rainbow Throw!

  Each card lit up—red, blue, and green—the same colors as the three macaws on Beginner Island.

  He launched them in a fan pattern, watching as they spread wider the farther they traveled.

  Awesome.

  The skill worked just as he’d hoped. With this and [Hydrofoil Dive] in play, he was confident he could handle the dungeon.

  He resumed his course. He wasn’t far now.