“Blacky, I killed a woman,” I said, laying on the bed, staring at the white roof.

Blacky looked around, then inserted his head inside his card, exchanged some barks with his Border Collie guests, and plucked his head back out.

“They say they are willing to do the Galileo Galileo part.”

I remained silent, dumbfounded. This reality outdid itself in stupidity at every turn and it was becoming tiring.

“I am not doing a victim-gender-swapped version of Bohemian Rhapsody, Blacky.”

“That’s a shame. Women deserve to hear themselves being the victims in Bohemian Rhapsody.”

I decided not to entertain Blacky’s misconception of the kind of representation people wanted in media, mainly because he was a dog, but also because he was a moron.

“I caused the death of a unique, unrepeatable person.” (No, Vacatrola didn’t count because she was half cow. That’s a crime punishable by death)

“I know, that’s a principle of stratigraphy: faunal succession,” he informed. Thanks, Blacky.

It began to seem to me that Blacky was not that reliable of a guide, after all. He kept me alive and drove me to the right places and that was mighty fine, but for everything else… let’s leave it at this: he was a glorified GPS.

“Forget it, can you fetch me the pack from which she came out? I didn’t see the remaining cards.”

“I am not a Golden Retriever, Master.”

“And that precludes you from fetching?”

Blacky looked at the pack, considering my question for a few moments. “No.”

“Then do it!”

Reluctantly, with steps worthy of a Basset Hound, Blacky went and retrieved the pack. He left it besides me and I quickly snatched it to see the cards. I needed a distraction from the fact I had been complicit in the murder of a non-bovine person.

And you may wonder what my problem with cows is. We are lethal enemies, the ruminants and I. I value cow-based food and cosmetics because cows suffer to produce them. I don’t consume Milka chocolates because they glorify the demon animal. I buy more expensive milk because the cheaper brand has a cow printed on the sachet. That’s unacceptable, I am an atheist because no good God above would allow depiction of such vermin on foodstuffs. And yet there was a goddess, but she was not good, it seemed, and her attitude made me think she could be an eldritch creature, like… a calf. I don’t like calves; they are precows. I don’t like bulls, because their mothers and daughters are cows. It’s criminal to breed knowing your child could be a cow. And you may ask why do I only hate cows and not bulls and , well, I’d admit to foster artiodactyl-related sexism.

You might be reading a stolen copy. Visit Royal Road for the authentic version.

Back to the so-far-cow-free world of dogs, I passed the cards, and they were just low rarity filler. I opened the third pack. A not common appeared at the front: Chis from a Rose. The card depicted a bunch of Chihuahuas falling from a giant red flower into a white lake. IT was a 1/1 2 cost with the following text:

A deck can include any number of Chis from a Rose in it. When you summon your next Chis from a Rose, apply the following effect: (Placeholder text. This text will change dynamically as you summon them in a game). Every Chis from a rose you summon has 1/1 more than the previous.

Passing to the next cards, there were all copies of the previous one. A whole pack of the card probably meant it was considered useless at one copy.

I summoned the Manual.

“Chis from a Rose, rulings.”

The manual obeyed and showed me the page with the information I wanted. There had to be a trick here…-1

If you are seeing this page, you are probable playing a Sealed league. Chis from a Rose is a very special card: The more you play, the weirder their effects get and the more the game rules are bent! Here is the following list of effects. They are tied to the amount of Chis from a Rose summoned this game. So “1.” is the first, “2.” the second, and so on…

1. summon a Greyhound tower (0/2, can’t attack, but can block).

2. For the rest of the game, draw another card if your end-of-turn card draw is not Chis from a Rose and you still have more than twenty Chis from a Rose in your deck.

3. The Rainbow bridge is now called the Grave. Gain a spent omnikibble pellet.

4. Draw 2 cards.

5. Heal 3. Draw Gloom in the Bark if it is in your deck. Create it in the hand with +2 cost otherwise.

6. Your Chis from a Rose have unusually large eyes. They can block cards that state they cannot be blocked. They now cost 3.

7. Your commitment to this shit-deck is amazing. Compare an enemy unit to a Chis from a Rose on the Grave. If it shares the same health or attack value, send it to the Rainbow bridge. Your grave is called Rainbow Bridge again.

8. You now always draw an extra card at the end of the turn.

9. Next time you would die, heal back to your starting health.

10. Summon a mound of cocaine. All dogs currently summoned get Breathing issues and instantly die from them.

11. The sky becomes red. Your Chis from a Rose cost 3.5 and every one you summon gets a new positive keyword for ALL of them.

12. If you still didn’t win, git gud. Idk draw a card man.

13. Your Chis from a Rose now start a free attack as soon as they hit the board.

14. the attacker now may choose the blockers. If he or she doesn’t, the defender does.

15. Gloom in the Bark becomes 0 cost. You cannot lose due to decking out.

16. From here onwards, each summon has the same effect: heal 1, draw 1, deal 1 damage to your opponent. If possible, this effect has double the potency of the last time it resolved successfully.

“That’s a hell of a complex card,” I thought aloud.

“Yes, but having only five in the deck will do no good. The engine requires like thirty to work properly,” Blacky said.

I needed to see how one of those decks was made.

“Take me to the Data Centrer, I will open the last pack there.”