As soon as the sunflower starfish card entered Deckard’s repository, a ripple went through the machine. The cards within shifted and rearranged, the pale paper lighting up with a faint, underwater glow. Gradually, the light focused, forming a rectangle that pulsed once and then solidified into a new card.
A series of notifications floated into his field of vision, each one more exciting than the last.
Collection updated!
+0.5 HP regeneration
Congratulations! You’ve captured all creature cards from the shallows of the Island of Beginnings shallows ecosystem.
Your repository cross-references all genetic information, and you obtain new knowledge of this ecosystem.
You’ve received [Shallows Swarm].
Deckard felt a surge of satisfaction. “No way! Another rare card?!”
You’ve unlocked a new skill: [Healing Ray].
Deckard smiled from ear to ear. So, as I complete my collection or reach certain milestones, I get special cards and unlock skills! All the more reason to complete my collection as fast and thoroughly as possible, then.
[Shallows Swarm] was a pretty nice Terralore card. Even though it had a random effect that could provide creatures to his opponents, it still seemed worth playing. Flooding the opponents’ lanes with starfish and clams didn’t seem too dangerous. Without the right synergies these creature cards were harmless.
However, he could do a lot with this card if he built a deck just right. He imagined the powerful combo of playing [Shallows Swarm] first and then a [Sunflower Starfish] next, absorbing all the random starfish in the field and turning it into a huge creature.
I can’t wait to get to the city and start playing at the parlors.
He had also obtained his first skill ever since he took up the card slinger class! Healing ray!
Healing Ray (Common)
Skill description: You feel others’ pain, and thanks to the power of your mutation, you can slightly alleviate it.
Skill effects:
Active. Heal your target;
Healing slightly scales with cards that grant HP regeneration.
It was a simple healing skill. Deckard dove underwater, waiting for his energy bar to hit rock bottom and for him to start losing health. As soon as he’d lost some, he resurfaced.
Healing Ray!
You don’t have enough energy!
“Right. Silly me. I need energy to use this skill.”
Deckard waited for the energy bar to recover, and he tried the skill again.
Healing Ray!
+10
Sure enough, a beam of light fell on him. It followed the theme of healing from all the starfish that he’d captured. It was the equivalent of a free potion.
Even though [Healing Ray] was a simple skill, it represented a significant discovery. He couldn’t learn skills from cards like regular players. At least not in the standard way. But as he increased his collection and reached certain milestones, he could get Terralore cards that granted him a skill he could use when adventuring in AstroTerra.
After getting this card, I know that there really isn’t any other starfish or clam to capture out here. I guess it’s time to figure out if I can hold my own against seagulls!
Deckard headed toward the shore, leaving the shallows behind. Across the beach, beginners were scattered, each battling the most basic creature around: the diseased seagull.
He took out his deck of blank cards and started shuffling them, getting accustomed to their weight again. “Time to find out just how much damage these babies can do.” Deckard moved further along the shore, away from the village—he didn’t need an audience. The quieter the battlefield, the better. The last thing he needed was for some unsavory player to aggro all the seagulls on the beach and bring them his way.
As Stiltwave shrank to a dot on the horizon and Gull Rock remained out of sight, Deckard nodded in satisfaction. He’d found the perfect spot for his first real card-slinging battle.
He spotted a lone seagull pecking at the sand—a safe choice with no other creatures around to complicate the fight. Taking a deep breath, Deckard steadied himself. The fighting aspect of this game was far from being his strong suit, but there was no way around it but to get better at it. There’s no point in overthinking this.
He broke into a sprint, closing the gap, and, just within range, channeled all his momentum into a powerful throw. He used his wrist, elbow, shoulder, and legs, putting every ounce of energy into launching the card. He’d practiced the throw with coconuts, which were high up in the trees. Without the need to counteract gravity, the card flew like a missile, hitting the seagull dead-on.
-2!
The oversized number and exclamation mark over the seagull told him he’d landed a critical hit, but the low damage was instantly disappointing. What in the world? Two? My toy sword does more damage than that.
He processed the implications quickly: at this rate, he wouldn’t have enough cards to finish the fight. There was no way he could throw every card like this all the time. His mind whirred with possible solutions.
Stolen from its rightful author, this tale is not meant to be on Amazon; report any sightings.
The seagull turned toward him, furious, letting out a piercing screech as it launched forward. Its wings flapped wildly, sand spraying up behind it as it barreled toward him, closing the distance with alarming speed. Deckard fired off two more throws, quick and precise.
-1
-1
So little damage, he thought, grimacing. Each hit dealt only a single point, and his card supply wouldn’t last much longer. He turned and sprinted, putting distance between them to avoid its rapid advance.
The seagull’s squawks were shrill and angry, its legs pumping as it scrambled to keep up with him. From a distance, though, its aggression felt less daunting. Deckard quickly adjusted his pace to match the creature’s, now able to focus on timing his throws rather than reacting out of urgency.
Deckard smiled at how calm he felt. He didn’t feel flustered and was able to plan his every move. Long-range really is best for me. I don’t do well in the middle of a fight.
At around six meters, he turned and flung three cards in quick succession.
-1
-1
-1
You’ve seen a diseased seagull fight.
Your understanding of it grows.
He mentally marked his limit—three throws before the seagull caught up—then spun and took off running again. As he settled into a cycle of spacing, throwing, and sprinting, he noted each movement with a calculated precision. He could feel himself easing into control until—
-1
-1
I’m out of ammo!
Deckard’s deck only allowed for 52 blank cards, and the repository would take time to regenerate more. Even with his best efforts, he hadn’t made enough impact on the seagull’s health. Glancing at its stats, he saw that it still had nearly half its health left.
Diseased Seagull
Lvl. 2
HP: 48/100
He’d known this might happen. That’s why he’d kept one last card in reserve. Without hesitating, he held it facing the seagull, steadying his breath.
“Here goes nothing.”
Subdimensionalize!
Sensing its impending capture, the seagull froze mid-charge, then frantically attempted to flee, wings flapping as it stumbled backward in the sand. But the card’s vortex took hold, spiraling around the creature with unstoppable force. Deckard watched, transfixed, as the seagull’s form distorted, its dimensional depth peeling away like layers of paper. The seagull squawked in defiance, but it was no use—the vortex drew it in, compressing and flattening it until, with a final pull, the creature was sucked into the card, trapped within its two-dimensional realm.
All those experiments in the shallows had born fruit. He was confident that the skill would work before he even used it. He had received four messages about gaining an understanding of the diseased seagull throughout the fight and also knew that a lower health bar increased his chances of success.
The card’s light dimmed, and Deckard inspected it.
“Why are seagull cards so bad?” Deckard muttered. Seagull cards always came paired with a lousy debuff that made them unplayable. He knew he was scraping the bottom of the barrel; these were the weakest creatures in the game. There was a reason the cards had such lousy effects, but that didn’t make it any less frustrating.
With a sigh, he moved over to the loot pile. All the cards he’d thrown at the seagull were neatly stacked—at least the developers had thought to make it easy for him to restock ammo. Beside the cards lay a diseased feather and a few copper coins.
No XP, but I still get regular loot. If I’m seeing this right. I have an edge on capturing creature cards, but skill cards are another story. They probably had to drop for him, just as they did for other players, which meant grinding was likely part of the process.
Deckard let the repository absorb his card.
Collection updated.
+0.1% attack speed.
Like with the other seagull cards, he gained more attack speed. It wasn’t what he needed most—what he wanted was attack power. Ideally, he’d be able to finish off a seagull with his available ammo. He couldn’t wait to increase his damage and the number of cards he could carry.
He’d used the Subdimensionalize trick, but after experimenting with starfish and clams earlier, he’d learned that he could only capture each card once. He wasn’t sure if that cap lifted after selling a card, but he’d have to see his next battle through to the bitter end.
It was time for another try. Deckard readied his deck, sprinted toward his next target, and put his whole momentum into one powerful throw.
-2!
Without wasting a second, he fired off another round, his arms moving in fluid, practiced motions as he kept an eye on the seagull’s reactions. The creature shrieked in outrage, snapping its beak and flaring its wings.
Good. Keep shrieking and displaying that you’re coming for me while I throw cards.
-1
-1
-1
-1
-1
Deckard managed to get five hits in before the seagull finally started running. Deckard gritted his teeth. He was learning the pattern now—throw, run, turn, throw again.
-1
-1
-1
The battle seemed quieter now—no new notifications or insights popping up. But that silence only heightened his focus. He could feel his instincts sharpening as he slung cards with increasing confidence. The seagull stumbled but kept up its relentless charge, barely slowing with each hit.
Time passed in a blur as he burned through his deck, the sand kicking up in gritty sprays under his feet with every evasive step. His breathing grew heavier, the steady rhythm of the fight pulling him in. By the time he realized he’d run out of cards, the seagull was already halfway to him, feathers ruffled, its beady eyes locked on him with furious intent.
He didn’t hesitate. With no cards left, he drew his toy sword from his inventory, gripping it tightly as he braced for the creature’s assault.
The seagull barreled forward, shrieking, its beak aimed straight at him. He raised his sword just in time as it collided with him, pecking with a fury that sent vibrations up his arm. Luckily, his new coconut armor took the brunt of the impact.
-3
Without the armor, he knew the blow would’ve been much worse—eight points easily. Between the armor, damage resistance from his clam cards, and him being able to somewhat block the hit, the attack felt manageable, though it still stung. His fingers clenched the hilt tighter, and he swung the wooden sword at the seagull, catching it with a solid strike.
-4
The seagull squawked and struck back, its beak glancing off his armor but landing another blow.
-5
Even with his armor, Deckard knew he would be at a disadvantage in a drawn-out battle. His sword felt light in his hand, but his damage was low, and the seagull was relentless. Thankfully, he’d already worn down most of its health from a distance. After a few more clumsy exchanges, the seagull staggered, its movements slowing before it collapsed, leaving behind a neat stack of his cards along with a feather and a few copper coins.
Deckard knelt, collecting the loot and noting that his health bar had dropped into the 60s. But thanks to his starfish cards, he could see it ticking back up, slowly but steadily.
Healing Ray!
He activated his new skill, and a bright ray of light cascaded over him.
+10
The familiar warmth spread through him, his health bar rising significantly at the cost of a chunk of energy. With all the running, card throwing, and close combat, his energy reserves were dropping fast, forcing him to sit and rest.
It wasn’t a flawless strategy, but it worked. He could hunt seagulls, earn loot, and eventually collect their skill cards if he kept at it. And even if none dropped, he’d make enough to sell loot and buy what he needed from other players.
He scanned the beach, looking for his next unlucky target.
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Hey folks! Whenever Deckard completes a milestone, he unlocks a new card and a skill. Now I’m wondering: Should he also receive a stat bonus? For example, he has just completed the Shallows Set. Should he get a small HP regeneration boost on top of the benefits the cards already give him? Or should the new card and its effects (plus any stat bonuses baked into the card itself) be the full reward? Let me know what you think! Would love to hear your thoughts on balance and progression. 👇
