"Are you sure you''re okay?" Leo''s voice broke through my spiraling thoughts.


    He sat slouched in the chair beside me, one leg draped over the armrest and a book lazily propped on his lap. Not that he was reading it—his eyes were fixed on me with the intensity of someone who had way too much free time.


    "I''m fine," I replied, a little too sharply.


    <blockquote>


    (Skip to the red line halfway through the chapter if you’d rather avoid the emotional drama.)


    </blockquote>


    Leo arched an eyebrow, completely unfazed. "You sure? Because the way you’ve been staring at that phone for the past thirty minutes, it looks like you’re either expecting a message from God or trying to mentally summon one."


    I sighed, gripping the phone a little tighter. "Can you not?"


    Leo leaned back in his chair, letting out a dramatic sigh of his own. "Just saying, I don’t think notifications work faster through sheer willpower. You’ve checked your phone ten times in the last five minutes.”


    I shot him a warning look. "Leo, can you try—just try—for once in your life to be quiet?"


    “Hey, I’m just trying to help,” he said, raising his hands in mock surrender. Then, as if unable to help himself, he added under his breath, "Not my fault your girlfriend’s ghosting you."


    That did it. I turned to glare at him, but my usual fire was missing. He wasn’t entirely wrong, and that only made his words sting more. I let out a frustrated groan and sank back onto my bed, staring up at the ceiling like it held all the answers.


    Dammit! I think I was going mad and my life was coming to an end.


    Love was scary!


    "See?" Leo continued, his tone maddeningly cheerful. "Now you’re doing the classic ‘existential ceiling stare.’ That’s at least Level Three Worry. You’ve got it bad, man."


    “Do you have an off button?” I muttered, looking lifeless.


    "Nope," Leo replied with a grin. "But I do have suggestions. Why don’t you just go check on her? You know, like a normal person."


    I peeked over, frowning. "And do what? Knock on her door and say, ‘Hey, why aren’t you replying to my messages?’ That’s not desperate at all."


    Leo shrugged. "Desperate? Maybe. Effective? Definitely. I mean, what’s worse—sitting here going insane, or just ripping off the Band-Aid?"


    I frowned, my mind racing. Should I?


    The thought of showing up unannounced was tempting—but it also felt… reckless. What if she needed space and I just made things worse? But then again, what if something was wrong? What if I was sitting here moping like an idiot while she actually needed me?


    "You’re overthinking it," Leo chimed in, as if reading my mind. "Either you go check on her, or you sit here driving yourself crazy. Those are your options, bro."


    I sat up, immeditly jumping up. His words, as irritating as they were, made sense.


    "Fine," I muttered, dashing to grabbing my jacket. "I’ll go check on her."


    My heart was already teetering on the edge, needing just a little push to leap into action. Without a second thought, I rushed downstairs. Aunt Grace wasn’t home, sparing me the trouble of answering any questions or dealing with her knowing glances. The ride to Jade’s house felt both too fast and agonizingly slow. Twenty-five minutes, but each mile felt like a trial. When the car finally pulled up in front of her home, I sat there for a moment, staring at the front door. My palms were clammy, and my heartbeat was loud enough to drown out the engine’s noise. With a quick tip to the driver, I stepped out, the cool evening air doing little to calm my nerves.


    Knock. Knock.


    I rapped on the door, trying to strike the balance between polite and urgent. One minute passed. Then two. Then three.


    Knock. Knock. Knock.


    This time, I knocked harder, my frustration and worry spilling into the motion.


    “What are you doing, trying to break my door down?”


    Jade voice, sharp and irritated, came from behind the door.


    I froze, a strange mix of relief and nervousness washing over me. Before I could process her words, the door swung open to reveal Jade. Her eyes were puffy and red, her expression a swirl of exhaustion and barely concealed frustration.


    “Why are you here?” she asked, her voice sharp but unsteady. The crack at the end gave her away more than anything else.


    I hesitated for a moment, words escaping me. “I can leave if—”


    “Stupid,” she interrupted, her glare cutting through my hesitation like a knife. “Then why did you come in the first place?”


    Her tone was biting, but it didn’t match the trembling of her hands as she gripped the edge of the door. She was trying to hold it together, but the cracks in her armor were showing, fragile and unmistakable.


    “I was worried about you,” I said softly, taking a cautious step closer. “You haven’t been answering my calls. I just… I wanted to make sure you were okay.”


    "Now you have it. Look, I''m fine," She said rubbing her eyes as to wipe away any evidence, but she avoided directly looking at me.


    I shook my head at her falling attempts to hide her emotions and state, "Jade," I called out gently. My voice barely above a whisper. “It’s okay to not be fine.”


    Her expression faltered for a moment, like she wanted to respond but couldn’t figure out what to say. Without a word, she turned on her heel and walked back inside, leaving the door open. It was then I noticed she was wearing one of my hoodies—the same one she’d stolen from my room weeks ago. Was she missing me, or was it just a coincidence? The thought lingered, tugging at me in a way I wasn’t ready to unpack. Shaking my head, I followed her in and gently closed the door behind me. The living room was dim, illuminated only by the faint light filtering in through the curtains. A handful of crumpled tissues littered the coffee table. Jade plopped onto the sofa, her arms crossing defensively over her chest. Her back was rigid, her gaze fixed stubbornly on the floor. I hesitated for a moment before sitting down beside her, leaving a little space between us.


    I began carefully, my tone soft. “What’s wrong? You don’t have to deal with this alone. You can talk to me.”


    She shook her head, her hair falling over her face like a curtain. “Nothing’s wrong,” she said, her voice flat. “You shouldn’t have come.”


    Her words rang hollow, a flimsy wall that didn’t match the tired red of her eyes or the faint tremor in her hands as they clutched at the fabric of her sweatpants. She was holding on to something—maybe her pride, maybe her anger—but whatever it was, it was locking me out.


    I didn’t want to push too hard, but I couldn’t just sit there and accept her silence, either.


    “Don’t tell me nothing’s wrong,” I said gently but firmly. “I know you better than that.”


    Her head snapped up, her silver eyes meeting mine. They shimmered with unshed tears, her walls threatening to crumble. For a moment, she said nothing, just stared at me as though weighing the cost of letting me in.


    “Please,” she whispered, her voice trembling. “Don’t push me to open.”


    The rawness in her tone froze me in place. It wasn’t just a plea—it was a warning, a fragile, desperate attempt to hold herself together.


    I exhaled slowly, fighting the urge to press her further. “Okay,” I said softly, taking a small step back, though my voice stayed steady. “I won’t push. But I’m here. Whenever you’re ready. You don’t have to do this on your own.”


    She blinked, and the first tear slipped down her cheek. She swiped at it hastily, “Why do you always do this?” she muttered, her voice breaking. “Why do you always have to be so… so stubborn?”


    “Because someone has to be,” I said softly, my voice steady but gentle. “And if it means being stubborn to remind you that you don’t have to face this alone, then so be it.”


    Her hands clenched around the fabric of her sweatpants, her knuckles whitening. “You don’t get it. You can’t just… fix things by showing up and saying the right words. Life doesn’t work like that!”


    “I know,” I replied, “I’m not here to fix anything. I’m here for you. There’s a difference.”


    Her breath hitched, and she looked away, her shoulders trembling slightly. “I don’t need anyone,” she whispered, though her tone lacked conviction.


    “Maybe not,” I said, lowering my voice. “But that doesn’t mean you don’t deserve someone.”


    For a moment, the room fell silent except for her uneven breathing. Her walls were crumbling, piece by piece, and I knew better than to rush her.


    “Fine,” she muttered, “Just… stay.”


    “Okay,” I said softly. “I’ll stay.”


    I moved carefully, lowering myself onto the couch a few feet away from her. Close enough to be there, but not so close as to crowd her. Jade stayed where she was, her back to me, her breaths shallow but slowing. After a minute, I got up and walked to the kitchen, grabbing a glass from the cupboard. The faint clink of ice against the glass as I filled it with water echoed in the quiet house with snivels coming from the living room. I offered her the glass wordlessly. She hesitated before taking it, her fingers trembling slightly. She brought it to her lips, taking a few small sips. Her eyes stayed fixed on the water, as if avoiding mine on purpose.


    I studied her face—pale under the warm glow of the lamp, faint tear tracks streaking her cheeks, and the redness around her eyes.


    What was eating her up like this? It was painfully obvious that her parents had told her to stay away from me, but was that really enough to bring her to tears? Maybe I didn’t know her as well as I thought.


    When she finished, she set the glass on the coffee table and leaned forward, her elbows resting on her knees. Her hands moved to her hair, fingers threading through it as she let out a shaky breath.


    “It’s my parents,” she said finally, her voice barely above a whisper. “They’re trying to control everything again.”


    “They don’t trust me,” she continued, her fingers tightening in her hair. “They never have. It’s like... no matter what I do, it’s never good enough. I’m always just their stupid project, their puppet, something to manage.” She laughed bitterly, the sound hollow and brittle. “And I hate it.”


    I leaned forward slightly, resting my forearms on my knees to match her posture. “What are they trying to control this time?”


    ““Everything. My choices, my time, who I’m allowed to be with. They think I’m distracted,” she admitted, her voice wavering. “They think I’m distracted. That I’m not focused enough on their plans, on why I’m even here. They don’t like you, North. They think you’re... dangerous for me.” Her hands fell to her lap as she lifted her gaze, meeting mine. Her silver eyes shimmered with unshed tears. “They told me I should end things now. Before it’s too late. Before something bad happens.”


    “Something bad happens?” I echoed, confusion flickering in my voice. “What does that even mean?”


    Jade shook her head, wiping her eyes with the sleeve of her sweatshirt. “Yesterday, I didn’t realize the academy would inform my parents about the incident. And apparently, they’ve been keeping tabs on me the whole time.” she muttered, her voice tinged with frustration and fear. “They’ve always been like this—controlling, manipulative. But this time…” Her voice trailed off. “They’re not good people, North. You shouldn’t come in contact with them.”


    “What do you mean they’re not good people?” I hesitated, unsure how much to push. “Why did they send you here in the first place, then? If they don’t trust you or think you can handle yourself?”


    “That’s the thing,” she said, her voice tinged with frustration and something else—fear. “I don’t know. None of it makes sense. They’ve always had a plan for me, always made every decision. But this?” She gestured vaguely, her hands falling to her lap. “Sending me here, letting me come to Earth—it doesn’t fit. They never explained why, and now they’re trying to control me from a distance, like they’re scared I might actually start thinking for myself.”


    I slipped an arm around her shoulders, pulling her into a half-hug. Her body was stiff, but she didn’t pull away. My hand moved instinctively in slow, soothing circles on her back, the same way you’d comfort someone in the middle of a nightmare. That’s what it felt like—like she was trapped in something she couldn’t wake up from. Sometimes, parents are the worst thing that can happen to a child, I thought grimly. Jade’s few words had revealed more than she probably meant to. This wasn’t just about control. Her parents didn’t just oversee her life—they dictated it, manipulating everything around her, ensuring that no one, least of all Jade, ever stepped out of line.


    I could feel the weight of it in her trembling shoulders, in the way she pressed her lips together like she was trying to swallow the pain whole.


    “They can’t keep you like this forever, you know,” I said softly, my voice low enough that it wouldn’t startle her.


    Her head tilted slightly, just enough to show she’d heard me, but she didn’t reply.


    “You’re not something they get to own, Jade,” I continued. “Not a tool, not a puppet. You’re allowed to live for yourself. They don’t get to take that away from you.”


    “You make it sound so simple,” she murmured, her voice tinged with bitterness. “But it’s not. You don’t know what they’re capable of.”


    "Look," I said quietly and calmly. "Whatever they are, whoever they are, I’m not scared. They’re not going to push me away from you. I’m not going anywhere."


    Her fear was evident - that our relationship would bring danger to my door. And while, maybe her parents were likely connected to some underground network, perhaps even leaders in their world. But that wasn’t the whole picture. Someone else—someone bigger—was behind the scenes. Perhaps the mastermind could be tied to the original time traveler or someone they controlled. The pieces were there, scattered like a jigsaw puzzle, but putting them together would take time. For now, all I could do was wait for the picture to come into focus.


    Jade leaned back slightly, her head tilting just enough to look at me. Her eyes were wide and wet, shimmering with unshed tears that caught the dim light. She looked like she wanted to believe me but couldn’t let herself.


    “You don’t get it, North,” she whispered, her voice cracking on my name. “They don’t just control me—they control everything. People, systems, entire lives. If they see you as a problem, they won’t stop. They’ll do whatever it takes to—”


    “Do you trust me?” I asked, cutting her off gently.


    Her lips parted, her breath hitching as if she wanted to argue. But after a moment of hesitation, she nodded, the motion barely perceptible. “I do.”


    “Then trust me when I say I’m not going anywhere,” I said, brushing a stray tear from her cheek with my thumb. Her skin was cold, and it made my resolve burn even hotter. “Even if you push me away, I’m staying. I’m not letting them win.”


    She shook her head, frustration bubbling over as her voice rose slightly. “You’re not listening! You don’t understand how dangerous they are. They don’t just threaten people—they erase them. If they see you as a problem, they won’t stop until you’re—”


    “You know why I like you?” I interrupted again, this time more firmly.


    Her lips pressed into a thin line, and she shook her head, clearly more interested in protecting me than hearing my reasons.


    I exhaled slowly, searching for the right words. This wasn’t a moment for anything less than honesty.


    “Because I need a reason to keep moving forward,” I said, my voice steady.


    Her brow furrowed, confusion breaking through the storm in her eyes.


    My hand moved to her chest, resting lightly over her heart. The rhythm beneath my fingers was uneven but strong, like it was fighting to keep her standing. “You make my days shorter,” I said softly, my voice quieter now but no less certain. “You make the hours slip through my fingers faster than they should. No matter how much time I spend with you, it’s never enough. And that’s never happened to me before.”


    Her gaze darted to mine, a mix of confusion and vulnerability flashing across her silver eyes. I pressed on, wanting her to hear me, to understand.


    “Believe me when I say, time doesn’t mean the same thing to me as it does to you,” I continued. “ Chaos? It’s just free entertainment. I wasn’t afraid of it yesterday, and I won’t be tomorrow.”


    I caught her gaze again, holding it steady as I spoke, my tone firm but gentle. “So, you don’t have to worry about me. Whatever they are, whoever they are, they’re not going to scare me off. I’m not going anywhere.”


    Her expression shifted slightly, the tension in her shoulders loosening, like a tightly wound spring beginning to unwind. I couldn’t tell how much of what I said she truly believed. But something was changing. Maybe it was relief that I wouldn’t abandon her, or maybe she was finding her own strength to push back against the fear that seemed to haunt her.


    Sometimes, all it took was knowing someone else believed in you.


    Jade exhaled deeply, the sound carrying the weight of the turmoil she’d been holding inside. Her head leaned against my shoulder, a quiet surrender of her defenses. For a moment, the mighty dragon let her walls drop, and in that moment, she wasn’t a force of nature—she was just Jade.


    “You’re so stubborn,” she murmured, her voice low and almost teasing. “Why can’t you just leave me alone? It would be easier.”


    Easier for whom? The thought crossed my mind, but I didn’t say it aloud. Instead, I brushed a strand of her hair from her face, letting my hand linger there for a moment.


    “Maybe it would be,” I admitted quietly. “But easy doesn’t mean right. And you’re not something I could ever give up.”


    “I don’t deserve this,” she murmured.


    I glanced at her, surprised. “Don’t deserve what?”


    “This,” she said, gesturing vaguely at the space between us. “You. Any of it. You don’t even know what you’re risking.”


    “You don’t get to decide what you deserve. That’s not how this works.” I replied stubbornly.


    Her eyes flicked up to meet mine, a flicker of vulnerability shining through the fear. “But I’ve done things… things I can’t fix.


    I cut her off, my tone firm but kind. “Do you think I care what others think? About what you’ve done? You think I don’t know the risks?” I paused, searching her face. “I’m here because I want to be. Because you’re worth it.”


    Her breath hitched, and she shook her head, her hands balling into fists against my chest. “Why? Why would you do that? It doesn’t make sense.”


    “Because you’re the first person who’s ever made my life feel bigger than just me,” I said, my voice steady. “You make it matter. And no one—no parent, no enemy, no shadow—is going to take that away from me.”


    Her tears came silently this time, streaking her cheeks as her fingers curled into the fabric of my shirt as if holding onto it could steady the storm inside her. “You’re so stupid,” she whispered, a small laugh escaping through her tears. “But I’m glad you’re stupid.”


    “Huh?” I feigned surprise, raising an eyebrow.


    “I thought you already knew that.” Then, with a playful smile, I flicked her forehead gently. “But only a real idiot falls in love with another idiot.”


    “Ouch!” she yelped, her hand flying to her forehead as if I’d seriously hurt her. But the sound was followed by a laugh—light and genuine—and a real smile broke through the tears still clinging to her lashes.


    “Yeah,” she said softly, her voice steadying as she looked up at me. “I guess I must be stupid too.”


    “Yes, you’re,” I replied with a grin, wrapping my arms around her and pulling her closer. “That makes two of us. Let’s figure this out together, okay?”


    Her nod was slow, but it carried a certainty that hadn’t been there before.


    Her arms slid around me tightly, her grip almost desperate, as if letting go would make me vanish.


    “Okay,” she whispered, her voice muffled against my chest. “Together.”


    I pressed a kiss to the top of her head, letting the warmth of the moment settle around us. I held her as close as I could, as if I could shield her from everything she feared.


    “Together,” I promised, my voice low but unwavering.


    ?????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????


    For the next two weeks, Jade and I kept our interactions more discreet, avoiding open spaces where prying eyes might be watching. I was worried, her parents were probably keeping tabs on us, and we couldn’t afford to give them a reason to interfere. Instead, we made the academy''s emergency stairwell our secret meeting spot. It wasn’t glamorous, but it was ours. The lack of cameras and its usual state of being locked made it a safe haven for us.


    It felt like a necessary sacrifice to keep her close to me. I couldn’t bear the thought of her parents deciding to pull her out of the academy and moving her back to their home planet. The mere idea was horrifying.


    Meanwhile, I had my own burdens to deal with: the 24 hours of weekly community service and endless ethics lectures. They were a pain in the ass. I found myself wishing every day for some miraculous reprieve, but, as always, my prayers fell on deaf ears.


    During this time, I also made a significant investment—an idea that had been rattling around in my head for weeks. I bought an old research lab in the Western District. It wasn’t cheap. Fifty million dollars evaporated from my account in a single transaction, but I didn’t hesitate. The place had once been a cutting-edge lab where scientists studied particles and energy, but the company had gone bankrupt and while their downfall was unfortunate, it left behind exactly what I needed: an empty lab with specialized tools and instruments I could repurpose for my own needs.


    I intended to transform it into my personal lab, a base where I could dive into my research on Arcane magic and spells.


    This felt like a worthwhile pursuit—a field vast and mysterious enough to challenge me, to give purpose to this third cycle.If you stumble upon this narrative on Amazon, it''s taken without the author''s consent. Report it.


    The first time I walked into the lab, it felt surreal. Dust covered most of the surfaces, and the air carried the faint metallic tang of disuse. Rows of complicated machines lined the walls, their screens black. The silence was heavy, like the place had been waiting for someone to wake it up again.


    I spent hours wandering through the small facility, imagining what it must’ve been like when it was buzzing with dozens of scientists. Every corner held some potential. I sketched out plans for where I’d start setting up my work, which areas I’d clear for testing, and which equipment needed repairs or upgrades. It was overwhelming but kind of exciting in a way. And then, the next month flew by in a blur of fixing, tweaking, and setting things up. Having been a student of science in my second cycle, I had a pretty good grasp of handling machines and solving technical issues. Each success, no matter how small, filled me with a quiet sense of pride as the lab slowly transformed from a dusty, abandoned relic into something functional—something mine.


    The work wasn’t glamorous. Most days, I was up to my elbows in grease or fiddling with outdated instruments and circuits. But there was a strange satisfaction in the repetition, in seeing my plans come to life one wire, one screw, one recalibrated machine at a time. The equipment, once dead and silent, now lit up softly, signaling progress.


    Still, the venture was turning out to be a black hole for money.


    Even though my lottery win had filled my account to the brim, it was draining faster than I anticipated. Equipment repairs, software updates, special tools—I had budgeted for all of it, but the reality of running a full-scale lab, especially that dabbled into magic, hit harder than expected. Every week, I saw the numbers in my account dip lower and lower. I wasn’t worried—yet. After all, luck was still on my side. I had been cautious about overusing it, mindful of the delicate balance that kept it from turning against me. But today, it was time to dip into that well again.


    Today was the lucky day of the month, the day when someone would scratch another winning lottery ticket.


    I had mapped out the patterns, observed the timings, and now I just needed to follow the plan meticulously. Being in the right place at the right time was all it would take to tip the odds in my favor.


    Another lottery scratch. Something to refill the coffers and keep my plans afloat.


    Hopefully, I won’t be getting beaten this time around, I thought grimly. The memory of my last ill-fated attempt was still fresh—and painful. Jade had practically dragged my half-conscious body home after that fiasco, muttering something about how my stupidity knew no bounds. The humiliation still stung.


    <hr>


    “Great, now we’re inside the mall,” Alex grumbled, his tone dripping with frustration. “You guys still haven’t told me why you dragged me here. I have better things to do.”


    “Do you?” Jade quipped, her eyebrow arching as she glanced at him.


    Alex scowled. “Yes. Like… not being here.”


    Jade turned to me, shrugged, and silently handed off the “explaining” part to me. Thanks for that.


    “We’re here to win the monthly lottery draw,” I said, keeping my tone as casual as possible.


    Alex blinked at me, clearly unimpressed. “Win the lottery? How exactly?”


    “Well,” I began, choosing my words carefully, “using Jade’s and my meta natures, we can, uh, pinpoint the winning ticket and, you know, make it happen.”


    Alex raised an eyebrow, skepticism radiating off him in waves. “Meta natures. Right. Sure. And the tooth fairy’s in the food court grabbing a smoothie, I suppose?”


    Naturally, I couldn’t tell him the full truth—that I already knew exactly where the winning ticket would show up. Still, I wasn’t technically lying. If I pushed my meta abilities hard enough, I could locate a fortune. The real issue was what kind of cosmic tantrum I’d have to deal with afterward. For example, my meta nature might point me toward a mountain of gold and when I reach there I found a dragon coiling it that would burn me alive. Not Good!


    “Oh,” Alex said slowly, his expression shifting as realization hit. “Wait a second—is that why you two are always so close?”


    Hold on. Wrong conclusion!


    “No!” I said, maybe a little too quickly. Jade shot me a look, part amusement, part “you’re on your own.”


    Alex crossed his arms, clearly enjoying my discomfort. “Uh-huh. Sure. But isn’t this whole thing, like… against the rules or something? Manipulating luck to win?”


    I sighed, rubbing the back of my neck. “First of all, it’s not manipulating luck—it’s redistributing probabilities. Totally different thing. Second…” I paused, debating how much of this I wanted to explain. “Okay, fine, but who’s going to prove it? Good fortune isn’t illegal. As long as no one sees a ‘crime,’ then there is no crime.”


    I glanced at Jade for backup. She nodded, her expression as unapologetic as mine. Team solidarity.


    Alex hesitated, clearly suspicious. “So, what do you need me for? Pretty sure no one likes sharing their fortune with others.”


    Jade stepped in, her voice calm and composed, like she was explaining why we needed eggs for breakfast. “I’ll be increasing North’s fortune for a couple of minutes,” she said. “During that time, and for a few hours after, his luck will… recalibrate.”


    “Recalibrate?” Alex repeated, narrowing his eyes.


    I cut in, helpfully. “Plummet into the negatives. Think sudden chaos, accidents, stuff catching on fire for no reason.”


    “Awesome,” Alex deadpanned. “And you’re just… cool with that?”


    I shrugged. “It’s manageable.”


    “That’s where you come in,” Jade said, picking up the thread without missing a beat. “We need you to keep him alive and in one piece while the universe throws its tantrum. Deal with any random disasters, make sure he doesn’t walk into traffic or accidentally blow something up. You know, basic babysitting.”


    Alex stared at us like we’d just asked him to wrestle a bear. “So let me get this straight: you’re going to cheat the lottery, tank your own luck, and I’m the guy who has to babysit you while the universe tries to murder you?”


    “Exactly,” I said, grinning. “And hey, you might even get a cut of the winnings. It’s a win-win.”


    “For who?” Alex muttered, pinching the bridge of his nose. “This has bad idea written all over it.”


    “Not if you’re good at your job,” I said cheerfully.


    “Great,” Alex groaned. “This better be worth it. If I end up in the hospital because of one of your schemes, you owe me for life. No exceptions.”


    “Deal,” I said without hesitation.


    But Our little venture was doomed to hit snags from the start. As we neared the shop in the mall, my steps faltered. There he was—the goon from last time, jabbing furiously at the lottery machine’s buttons like it had personally wronged him. His frustration was palpable. Worse still, he wasn’t alone. Two burly accomplices loitered nearby, radiating a level of menace usually reserved for bad action movies. I froze just outside the shop, raising a hand to stop both Alex and Jade. They exchanged confused glances before following my gaze through the half-glass window. Jade’s expression shifted instantly to one of righteous indignation, while Alex just looked, well, Alex—clueless and slightly alarmed.


    “What’s the problem?” Alex asked, leaning in to peer at the man with the subtlety of a train horn.


    “He’s our competitor,” Jade muttered, her voice low but brimming with disdain. “Last time, we almost had to run for our lives because of him. And now he’s brought backup.”


    Alex’s gaze flicked back to the shop. “So, uh, what’s the plan here? Because I’m not built for running—or dying, for that matter.”


    My eyes narrowed as I focused on the scene inside. Though I couldn’t be entirely sure, I had a strong suspicion this guy might be the second anomaly I’d encountered this cycle, aside from Jade. Trouble seemed to orbit me like a storm cloud that didn’t know how to take a hint.


    “We can’t fight in the mall,” I said after a moment, glancing at Jade. “Unless, of course, you’re feeling lucky enough to spend the night in a jail cell.”


    “Pass,” she replied dryly.


    “Can you reduce their odds of winning?” I asked, shifting gears.


    Jade’s eyes lit up, a sly smile curling at the edges of her lips. “Easily.”


    “Good. But don’t go overboard—just enough to make sure they can’t win,” I instructed. but looking at her evil grin for a second, I wondered if she would actually hold back.


    Alex, meanwhile, was watching our exchange with growing suspicion. “Okay, but what about us?” he asked. “We can’t just hang around here forever.”


    “We’ll wait them out,” I explained. “They’re not going to stay in there all day. But timing is critical—if no one draws the winning ticket within the allocated window, the draw’s voided, and we’re out of luck.”


    “And if they don’t leave in time?” Alex asked skeptically.


    “Then we improvise,” I said with a shrug. “But hopefully, it won’t come to that.”


    I turned to Alex and handed him my bank card. “You’ll have to go in. They don’t know you’re with us.”


    Alex hesitated, looking at the card like I’d handed him a live grenade. “Wait. Me? What about my luck? Isn’t it going to screw things up?”


    Jade smirked, already preparing to work her magic. “Don’t worry about that,” she said, her tone far too gleeful for comfort. “I’ll make sure you have just enough luck to pull this off. Any more, and we risk making it obvious.”


    “And any less?” Alex asked, clearly not reassured.


    “Then you might trip over your own feet and end up in the fountain,” she said sweetly.


    “Great,” Alex muttered, pinching the bridge of his nose. “This is definitely going to end well.”


    “Exactly,” I said, clapping him on the back. “You’ve got this. Just stay calm, act natural, and don’t make eye contact with the goons.”


    Alex hesitated, his brow furrowing. “What about my luck? Won’t that screw things up?”


    Jade explained, “It won’t matter. Once I lower their odds of success, the system will be in our favor. They won’t be able to draw the winning ticket no matter how hard they try. That leaves the field open for you.”


    Alex’s eyes narrowed, his skepticism plain. “And you’re sure about this? Because I don’t feel like ending up as a statistical anomaly.”


    “It’s science,” Jade said breezily.


    I gave Alex a reassuring nod. “You’ll be fine. Worst case, we get in a fight end up in the hospital for a night.”


    Alex squared his shoulders with a sigh, muttered something under his breath about questionable friends, and strode toward the store with all the confidence of someone marching to their doom.


    Jade and I retreated to an inconspicuous spot behind a nearby pillar, keeping a clear view of the shop while avoiding any unnecessary attention. I took a deep breath, finally appreciating the foresight of bringing Alex along. If this trio of misfits decided to start trouble, Alex could flatten them. Reinforcements or not, it wouldn’t even be a fair fight. Of course, there was another reason for involving Alex. Having him draw the winning ticket under his name added a layer of plausible deniability. Jade and I couldn’t afford to leave fingerprints on this little operation—not if we wanted to keep flying under the radar. Alex was our perfect buffer: unlucky enough to be believable, strong enough to bail me out if this went south.


    We watched, eyes glued to the shop like hawks on a hunt. Inside, the main goon smacked the lottery machine, his face a picture of frustration. He clearly hadn’t noticed his luck taking a nosedive—though, judging by the way his accomplices were fidgeting uncomfortably, they might have sensed something wasn’t right.


    I allowed myself a small, satisfied grin. This might actually work better than expected without me putting my life in danger.


    I glanced at Jade, who was peering intently into the store through the window. Her outfit today was its own mix of charm: a white high-neck crop top that hugged her slender figure, paired with a fluffy blue-and-navy argyle cardigan draped loosely over her narrow shoulders. Her high-waisted, vintage-style blue jeans added a relaxed, casual vibe, while the pink-tinted round glasses perched on her nose gave her an intellectual edge. Also, her hair was worn straight and loose, with soft bangs framing her face, enhancing the casual and natural appeal.


    In the last two months, things had calmed down a lot between us. The storm of emotions, her parents’ interference, and the fight had all seemed to settle, leaving us in a more peaceful place. And Jade had mostly returned to her usual cheerful and whimsical nature. As I watched her, I wished I could freeze this moment in time. Her smile, her presence—it was a dream I wanted to hold onto, even if I knew dreams like this rarely stayed forever.


    Eventually, I broke the silence. “So, how does this whole luck manipulation thing work for you?”


    She didn’t look back, her eyes still locked on the store as she answered. “It’s nothing complicated. I’m just affecting randomness in his surroundings. While doing that, I’m taking away the chances and possibilities of anything good happening around him—or to him—and storing them for later use. That’s how I increased your luck last time. I just borrowed it from someone else’s pool of fortune.”


    Her explanation left me a little surprised. It sounded like maintaining a universal balance, shifting fortune like currency from one person to another.


    She finally turned to look at me, "I can''t just create good fortune from nothing. Well—" A shadow crossed her face. "I could, technically. But there''s a ninety-eight percent chance that in the next second, you''d be reduced to strips of ribbons."


    “Strips of ribbons?” I repeated, staring at her.


    “Yes,” she said matter-of-factly, her lips twitching in amusement. “Messing with randomness too much creates chaos. So I don’t pull from nothing—I just borrow luck and misfortune from the world around me, from what''s already out there. It''s like working with the current instead of against it."


    It made sense in a twisted sort of way. Luck wasn''t some infinite resource you could tap into endlessly—it wasn''t even something you could see or touch. It was subtle, elusive, and those rare few who could manipulate it were like master thieves working with an invisible treasure.


    Moreover, there was rarely anyone at Jade’s level. Just looking at the lucky goon, even though he had meta nature that allowed him to be extremely lucky, it wasn’t much before her.


    “Well,” I said lightly, trying to shake off the mental image of me as decorative ribbons, “I’d prefer not to be turned into confetti.”


    “That’s good,” she teased, her smile widening. “Then don’t push your luck.”


    Meanwhile, the situation inside the store was heating up fast. The main goon—a thin man with a permanent scowl and a leather jacket that looked two sizes too big—slammed his fist against the lottery machine. His frustration boiled over as the screen displayed yet another losing ticket.


    “Goddammit! This thing’s rigged!” he snarled, his voice loud enough to draw uneasy glances from nearby customers.


    One of his lackeys, a scruffy-bearded guy in a faded hoodie, crossed his arms and glared at him. “Rigged, my ass! You’re supposed to be the lucky one, huh? Said you’d lead us to fortune. But ever since we started following you, it’s been nothing but bad luck!”


    “Yeah,” chimed in the other lackey, a burly man with a shaved head and a permanent scowl of his own. His voice was low and dripping with bitterness. “First, we lost that stash to the cops because you wanted to ‘test today’s luck.’ Now we’re standing here watching you punch a damn machine like it’s gonna spit out gold coins!”


    The thin man—the so-called Lucky Rabbit—whirled around to face them, his scowl deepening. “Shut it, both of you! I know what I’m doing! Luck’s just… outta sync today, that’s all.”


    Lucky Rabbit’s scowl deepened, his jaw tightening as he turned to face his lackey. “Shut your mouth,” he growled, his voice low and menacing.


    The wiry one, undeterred, threw his hands up dramatically. “Am I wrong? We lost the stash because you said, ‘Don’t worry, today’s my lucky day!’ We lost the car because, what? You had a hunch it could make it through the alley?” He gestured wildly at the machine. “And now this? The machine doesn’t even want to work with you!”


    The burly lackey, who had been watching in uncomfortable silence, finally chimed in. “He’s got a point, boss. You said luck was your thing, but lately… it’s not lookin’ so good.”


    Lucky Rabbit shot him a glare sharp enough to cut glass. “You two idiots wanna do this without me? Be my guest. Go ahead—show me how much better you are.” He stepped back, gesturing at the stubborn machine like it was a challenge.


    For a moment, the tension between them was thick enough to cut with a knife. The burly lackey held his ground, but he didn’t move toward the machine. Instead, he muttered under his breath, “I mean… I didn’t say I could do better—"


    “Then shut up!” Lucky Rabbit barked, his voice loud enough to draw a few wary glances from nearby shoppers.


    "You’re gonna keep blaming the universe no matter what.” Wiry lackey rolled his eyes.


    “Damn right I am!” Lucky Rabbit snapped, turning back to the machine. He gave it one last slap for good measure, then leaned against it, glaring at the flashing lights like they’d personally insulted him.


    From our vantage point behind the pillar, Jade smirked, her amusement barely contained. “This is so much fun,” she whispered, her voice brimming with mischief.


    Back inside the store, the wiry lackey folded his arms, clearly still annoyed. “Whatever, man. I’m just saying, maybe stop calling yourself the Lucky Rabbit until, you know, you actually get lucky.”


    Lucky Rabbit growled, his fists clenching as he stepped closer to the machine, jabbing at the buttons with renewed frustration. “Just watch. I’ll prove it. You’ll see.”


    Meanwhile, Alex moved quietly to the other lottery machine, his posture casual and unassuming. His movements were almost too relaxed, but his sharp gaze darted over the screen and keypad like a predator sizing up its prey. Sliding the bank card I’d given him through the machine with one hand, he hovered his other hand over the buttons, ready to strike.


    Tickets began spitting out with rhythmic precision, each one folded neatly into his pocket. He kept his pace steady and deliberate, his ears tuned to the escalating chaos behind him.


    "Man, I can’t believe this!" the wiry lackey shouted, throwing his hands up. "Why the hell did I even stick with you? It’s like everything you touch turns to crap!"


    Lucky Rabbit whipped around, and barked. “You think I’m the problem? You think I’m the reason things keep going south?” Slamming his fist against the machine one last time. This time, the machine responded with a loud, angry beep and an error message flashing across the screen.


    The wiry lackey let out a sharp laugh, pointing at the uncooperative machine. "ha, even the machine’s had enough of you, man!"


    The burly lackey snorted, unable to hold back his own laugh. “Hey, maybe you should change your name, boss. How about Unlucky Turtle? Way more fitting.”


    Lucky Rabbit’s jaw tightened, "You two wanna keep running your mouths, or do you actually have something useful to say?”


    Alex, meanwhile, smirked subtly, his fingers deftly retrieving another ticket. He pocketed it without breaking stride, his calm, calculated movements making it look like he’d been born for this.


    The two goons’ frustration hit a boiling point as they turned to vent their anger elsewhere. That’s when they noticed Alex, standing at the other machine with an air of calm detachment, smoothly drawing tickets one after another.


    Lucky Rabbit’s eyes narrowed, his suspicion growing as he watched Alex casually pocket another ticket, his movements confident and unhurried, as if he owned the place.


    “Hey, boss,” the wiry lackey muttered, nudging Lucky Rabbit. “That guy over there’s pulling tickets like it’s no big deal.”


    Lucky Rabbit’s scowl deepened as he squinted at Alex. “What the hell is he doing?”


    The burly lackey folded his arms, tilting his head as he studied Alex. “Looks like he’s got it all figured out. That machine’s spitting ‘em out like candy for him.”


    The wiry lackey snorted. “Meanwhile, we’ve got this busted junk heap that doesn’t even want to look at us anymore.”


    “Shut it,” Lucky Rabbit growled. His eyes stayed locked on Alex, who, oblivious—or perhaps intentionally so—continued to draw tickets with an enviable ease.


    “Hey, you!” Lucky Rabbit barked, finally stepping toward Alex, his lackeys trailing behind him. “Step away from that machine. We need it.”


    Alex didn’t flinch. He drew another ticket, slid it into his pocket, and pressed the button for the next one, all without so much as a glance in their direction. His air of complete indifference only seemed to enrage the goons further.


    "You deaf?" the wiry lackey snapped, stepping in closer, his voice dripping with aggression.


    "Boss said move," added the burly lackey, cracking his knuckles for emphasis.


    "Yeah," the wiry lackey chimed in, cracking his knuckles for effect. "Don’t make us get rough."


    With perfect timing, Alex finally turned to them, his expression utterly bored. “Oh, were you talking to me?” he asked, feigning ignorance.


    Lucky Rabbit’s eye twitched, “Yeah. We were talking to you. Get lost before you make this worse for yourself.”


    Alex casually pocketed another ticket, his smirk widening just a fraction. “Don’t mind me. I’m just here for the jackpot. You guys seem busy… breaking machines.”


    The wiry lackey stepped closer, his patience clearly running out. “You’ve got about five seconds to move, pal.”


    Behind the pillar, I stifled a laugh. “He’s really pushing it.”


    "You three look like you’ve had a bad day," Alex said dryly, slipping another ticket into his pocket without a care in the world. "I’d recommend you leave before it gets worse."


    The burly goon leaned in, his scowl deepening into something he probably thought was menacing. "You think you’re tough, huh? We’re not asking. We’re telling. Step away, or we’ll make you regret it."


    Alex let out a slow, deliberate sigh, straightening his posture. His calm eyes took on a steely glint, and the easygoing smirk on his face vanished, replaced by something cold and cutting. "Do you idiots even know who you’re dealing with?" he asked, his voice low and dangerous.


    The three goons exchanged uneasy glances, their bravado faltering.


    Alex took a deliberate step toward them, his entire demeanor shifting. It was as though the air around him grew heavier, his presence swelling with an authority that seemed completely out of place in a mall lottery kiosk. "I’m a student of Beyonder’s Academy," he said, his words slicing through the tension like a knife. "If you’ve got half a brain, you’d know what that means."


    The wiry lackey immediately paled, taking a hesitant step back. "B-Beyonder’s Academy?" he stammered, his voice barely above a whisper. "He’s gotta be bluffing—"


    "Shut up," Lucky Rabbit barked, though even his voice wavered.


    It was a lose-lose situation, and they all knew it. If what Alex said was true, then picking a fight with him was about as smart as poking a sleeping bear. Lucky Rabbit tried to hold his ground, but Alex’s piercing stare and effortless confidence made him falter.


    Alex took another step forward, letting the silence stretch out just long enough to unsettle them further. "Let me spell it out for you," he said icily. "You mess with me, you’re messing with my friends from the academy. You think you’ve had bad luck today? Try crossing paths with a few of my seniors. They don’t ask questions. They don’t negotiate."


    The wiry lackey swallowed hard, his earlier bravado evaporating like mist in the sun. "M-Maybe we should listen to him, boss," he muttered nervously, glancing at Lucky Rabbit.


    The burly lackey nodded in agreement, his posture shrinking. Even Lucky Rabbit’s hand twitched at his side, his confidence visibly crumbling.


    "I—I don’t think it’s worth it, boss," the wiry one added, a faint tremor in his voice. "Let’s just go. He’s not worth the trouble."


    Alex smirked, folding his arms across his chest. His stance was unyielding, like a storm wall standing firm against the wind. "Smart choice," he said coolly. "Now, back off before I decide to teach you a lesson myself."


    The wiry lackey didn’t need to be told twice. He grabbed the burly goon by the sleeve, tugging him away with surprising urgency. "Come on, man. Let’s go."


    Lucky Rabbit lingered for a moment longer. As Alex threw one final glare over his shoulder, something shifted in Lucky Rabbit expression—a flicker of genuine fear. Bad luck was one thing, but risking his life over a lottery ticket? No matter what that stranger had said, it wasn''t worth it. Besides, with his particular talent, there were always other tickets to scratch, other games to win. Alex waited until they vanished around the corner before turning back to the machine with practiced calm. The ticket that emerged had an unmistakable golden sheen in my vision. He caught our eye through the window, and his subtle smirk said everything.


    “All clear,” he murmured, his tone smug yet calm, as if scaring off three grown men was just another mundane task on his to-do list.


    Suddenly, I could feel Jade tense beside me, her hand gripping mine tightly. She turned to me, her eyes wide with barely contained energy. “Should we take action?” she whispered urgently.


    “And do what?” I asked, genuinely surprised.


    She pressed closer, her eagerness palpable—like an overexcited puppy, albeit one with a penchant for violence. “We could... you know... beat... no, teach them a lesson,” she mumbled, her cheeks tinged with redness as though she realized how absurd she sounded.


    I blinked at her, caught between exasperation and amusement. This wasn’t the first time she’d suggested “beating” someone as a solution, but it never failed to catch me off guard. Looking at her, I couldn’t help but wonder about the peculiar upbringing that had shaped her. This strange mix of childlike need for approval and casual ruthlessness was as endearing as it was baffling. Maybe her parents had a very... unique approach to teaching problem-solving. Either way, her answer to most problems was always a decisive (if not entirely rational) “beat them.”


    I shook my head firmly. “It’s not worth getting into trouble. Besides,” I added, gesturing toward Alex, “our mission here is already a success.”


    Jade huffed, crossing her arms in a pout but relenting. “Fine,” she grumbled, though the spark of annoyance in her eyes made it clear she wasn’t thrilled with my decision.


    Moments later, Alex strolled out of the shop, stretching leisurely like he’d just wrapped up a satisfying workout. Reaching into his pocket, he pulled out a neat stack of tickets, handing them over to me with an exaggerated flourish. “Here. Your fruits of hard work,” he said, grinning like he’d just delivered a priceless treasure.


    “More like your hard work,” I replied, taking the tickets and tucking them away. “And don’t get too cocky. That was only phase one.”


    Alex arched an eyebrow. “Phase one? Do I even want to know what phase two is?”


    I smirked. “No. But don’t worry—you’ll find out soon enough.”


    Jade perked up at that, her earlier annoyance vanishing. “Does phase two involve teaching lessons?” she asked hopefully.


    “No,” I said firmly, shooting her a look.


    She sighed dramatically.


    I took the tickets, flipping through them briefly. Most of them appeared ordinary to the naked eye, but in my vision, the golden one stood out vividly. Its glow was almost blinding, a clear indicator that it was the winning ticket.


    I pulled the golden-looking one out from the stack and held it up. “This one stays with you.”


    Alex arched an eyebrow, clearly curious. “Is this phase two?”


    “Yes,” I replied, handing the rest of the tickets back to him. “I can’t have more than one big winning ticket linked to me directly. You’ll draw it online. Once the money comes in, we’ll split it.”


    He hesitated for a moment, glancing between the ticket and me, as if weighing the implications. Then, a sly smirk tugged at his lips. “Smart move. It makes sense, considering we don’t want anyone sniffing around for foul play.”


    “Exactly,” I said with a nod, my tone serious. “Better safe than sorry.”


    Jade, who had been watching the exchange, finally chimed in with mischief., “Just remember, Alex, if they trace anything back to you, we’re not bailing you out.”


    To be honest, Alex was the only one within our small friend group, whom she felt comfortable talking. They could even be called good friends.


    Alex turned his head slightly, giving her an exaggerated look of mock betrayal. “Wow, thanks for the vote of confidence, Jade. Good to know I can always count on you in a pinch.”


    Jade shrugged nonchalantly, “Oh, you can count on me—for moral support. From a safe distance.”


    I chuckled, shaking my head. “Don’t let her fool you, Alex. If it gets bad, she’d probably send flowers to your hospital room. Maybe even a card.”


    “Handwritten or printed?” Alex asked, his voice dripping with sarcasm as he pocketed another ticket.


    “Depends on how bad it is,” Jade quipped, leaning casually against the pillar. “If it’s just a minor scuffle, you’re getting a printed one. But if it’s a full-on fight?” She paused dramatically, her grin widening. “I might break out the glitter pens.”


    Alex let out a soft laugh, tucking the golden ticket safely into his pocket. “Don’t worry. I’m not planning on getting caught. Besides, who’d suspect someone as charming as me?”


    Jade and I exchanged a glance, her expression skeptical, mine slightly amused. For all his smugness, Alex had proven reliable so far, and this arrangement really was the safest option.


    “Alright,” Alex said, clapping his hands together with finality. “I’ll get this ticket submitted tonight. When the money comes in, I’ll let you guys know.”


    The tension of the day dissolved as we moved on, deciding to kill time browsing the mall’s shops together. Alex, much to my surprise, turned out to have strong opinions about leather jackets, critiquing every one he tried on as though he were preparing for a biker fashion show. Jade, on the other hand, was drawn to every expensive clothing or accessory that caught her eye. By the time she tried on an oversized pair of rhinestone sunglasses and a neon pink scarf, she looked like she was starring in an avant-garde fashion show. “What do you think?” she asked, striking a dramatic pose.


    “Perfect,” Alex said without missing a beat. “If you’re planning to fight crime in Las Vegas.”


    Even I couldn’t hold back a laugh.


    Eventually, evening rolled around, and we prepared to part ways. By this point, my hands were overflowing with Jade’s shopping bags. There were at least four of them, all packed with everything from limited edition boots and jeans to a small stuffed animal she’d insisted was “too cute to leave behind.”


    “Well,” Alex said, shooting me a knowing smirk. “Looks like you’ve got your hands full, North.”


    “Literally,” I muttered, adjusting my grip on the bags.


    “Good luck with that,” he added, waving us off as he disappeared into the crowd to “handle business.”


    As Jade and I walked toward the exit, the cool evening air brushing against us, she glanced up at me, her eyes soft and warm. “Today was fun,” she said quietly.


    “Yeah,” I replied, trying to shrug despite the awkward load in my arms.


    She stopped just before the entrance, standing on her toes to press a light kiss to my cheek. Her smile turned slightly mischievous as she gestured to the bags in my hands. “Consider it your reward for carrying all my treasures.”


    I rolled my eyes but couldn’t stop the smile spreading across my face. “Oh, lucky me.”