Maluck stared at the screen, unblinking.

  Then he blinked.

  Then he leaned in closer, as if squinting at the text would somehow make it better.

  Luck Level: 2 (0/200)

  Unfortunate – Your toast lands butter-side down. On your last clean shirt.

  “…Excuse me?”

  This was supposed to be an improvement. He had spent his hard-earned LP on this. And now, instead of just maybe stepping in a puddle, he was guaranteed to ruin his last clean shirt every time toast was involved?

  What kind of dystopian breakfast hell was this? Maluck ran a hand down his face.

  “So you’re telling me I just paid to make my mornings worse?”

  The System, as usual, remained silent. He groaned and flopped back onto the bed.

  This wasn’t the kind of level-up he was expecting.

  But alright. Fine.

  If he had learned anything from this System so far, it was that progress was slow.

  And painful.

  And occasionally covered in butter stains.

  But he wasn’t giving up yet.

  Because if Level 2 sucked this bad, that meant Level 3 had to be better.

  Right?

  …Right?

  ***

  Maluck stared at his Luck Level 2 upgrade with a mixture of betrayal and disappointment.

  “System, really? I just spent 100 LP on this. And all it does is doom my breakfast?!”

  The System, ever the condescending life coach, responded with what was clearly its best effort at reassurance.

  [System Response] “Of course not. That’s merely an example. Here is the full, balanced explanation of its effects.”

  BP now increases by 2 per hour. Because screw you, Maluck. However, once per day, a BP event is negated randomly. You still have bad luck, but occasionally the universe lets one slide.

  Maluck read over the new effects, his scowl deepening.

  BP now increases by 2 per hour.

  “Because screw you, Maluck.” really stood out, though!

  ‘What the hell is up with that? Did the System description just swear at him?’

  However, once per day, a BP event is negated randomly.

  “You still have bad luck, but occasionally the universe lets one slide.”

  He had to read it again to make sure he wasn’t hallucinating.

  “Wait. My BP goes up twice as fast?! I don’t know if this is an upgrade or a downgrade!”

  Did you know this story is from Royal Road? Read the official version for free and support the author.

  The System, in its infinite wisdom, answered in the most System way possible.

  [System Response] “There are many ways to manage and reduce your BP. It will be your responsibility to discover them. If you consider it carefully, you will see that this is still an improvement.”

  Maluck blinked. Then he blinked again.

  “Yeah, let me just think about it really hard. Maybe I’ll realize how being twice as unlucky is a blessing.”

  No response.

  “No, really. I love it. Can’t wait to wake up tomorrow and watch my entire life turn into a slapstick comedy routine.”

  Still nothing.

  The bastard system had ghosted him.

  Maluck sighed heavily and rubbed his temples. This was not the divine ascension into Son of Fortune, Lord of Luck, Ultimate Gambling God that he had imagined. Instead, he had somehow signed himself up for Hard Mode.

  ***

  Just as Maluck was still staring at the System screen, trying to process how he had paid to become twice as unlucky, his BP ticked up by two more points.

  He froze.

  Then he let out an exhausted groan, “Oh, come on!”

  This was some upgrade. If this kept up, by the end of the week, he’d be dodging falling pianos and slipping on banana peels like a damn cartoon character.

  “All right, nope. Not dealing with this right now.”

  Maluck took a deep breath and forced himself to focus on the bright side. At least he had a new item to play with.

  Appraiser’s Lens.

  He pulled it out of his inventory and examined it. A small, shimmering monocle that looked valuable—but what mattered was what it could do.

  As soon as he attached it to his eye, the monocle turned completely invisible.

  “Oh, thank God.”

  For a brief second, he had worried that he’d be walking around looking like some wannabe anime protagonist with a giant monocle of destiny strapped to his face. But this? This was subtle. Invisible. Nobody would even know he was wearing it.

  Now… the big question.

  Where could he use this thing to make some cold, hard cash?

  The possibilities ran through his mind.

  He could start a talent agency. Go around scouting “hidden potential” in people. Maybe discover the next big Hollywood star, or the greatest quarterback nobody had ever heard of.

  Or… what about a reality TV show? Find The Next Great Chef! He could spot hidden cooking talent in random people and turn them into world-class culinary masters.

  “Wait, what the hell am I even talking about?”

  Maluck let out a short laugh as he realized something important:

  He had zero connections in any of those industries.

  Sure, someday he might pull it off, but today was not that day.

  He needed quick, easy money.

  That’s when the idea hit him.

  “Hold on a second. All those guys in those goofy novels—especially the Chinese ones—go looking for hidden jade stones inside sealed rocks, right? They use their powers to secretly peek inside and make a fortune.”

  Was there anything like that here?

  Maluck stopped walking, deep in thought.

  Then he slapped his forehead.

  “Duh. Scratch-off tickets!”

  Of course.

  He could literally see hidden value. Why waste time on mining Jade in Myrammar when he could just walk into a convenience store and clean up?

  With renewed confidence, Maluck strode out of his hotel room, ready to exploit the absolute hell out of the lottery system.

  Next stop? The biggest wall of scratchers he could find.

  Secondary goal? Not to let his increasing BP (now at 54), screw with him.

  ***

  Getting out of his car, Maluck strutted into the 7-24 like a man on a mission. This wasn’t just a convenience store run—this was the moment. The first real test of his Appraiser’s Lens.

  The second he activated it, a small countdown timer appeared in his vision.

  ‘Huh. Guess this thing isn’t permanent. Makes sense. But… Five hours? Oh hell yeah, that’s way better than the Probability Charm.’

  He had plenty of time to abuse this power.

  Not wasting a second, Maluck made a beeline for the real prize:

  The lottery tickets.

  Rows upon rows of false hope neatly stacked behind the glass, each one promising fortunes they would never deliver.

  He squinted at the big $748 Million Megaball Jackpot poster. ‘Would this thing work on draw tickets? Could he just see the winning numbers?’

  He stared at it intensely.

  Nothing.

  Not a glimmer.

  “Damn. Worth a shot.”

  But then he shifted his gaze to the scratchers.

  And that was when everything changed.

  A faint glow pulsed around some of them. Others had a brighter aura. And a few were as dead as Britney Federlyne’s singing career.

  Jackpot.

  Maluck’s eyes locked onto the glowing tickets like a predator spotting its prey. He quickly pointed at the ones he wanted.

  The clerk behind the counter—a tired, underpaid retail warrior who had seen it all—raised an eyebrow.

  “You sure you want these ones specifically?”

  Maluck nodded with absolute confidence.

  “Yes. These ones specifically.”

  The cashier just shrugged. He had long since stopped trying to understand the strange rituals of scratch-off junkies.

  Some people bought in batches. Some only grabbed ticket number 8. Others picked tickets based on lucky colors.

  Maluck? He looked like he was communing with the lottery gods themselves.

  But hey, none of my business.

  Maluck paid the $460 with his Visex and walked out, a stack of scratchers clutched tightly in his hands like they were gold bars.

  This was it.

  Time to see if this power actually worked.

  ***