John Kenneth Galbraith argued that there are two types of prophets in the world: those who know nothing about the future, and those who don't know that they don't know.

　　But in my opinion, there are only two kinds of prophecy, one called coincidence and the other called fraud.

　　After graduating from the University of Manchester, I was at home with nothing to do when the social networking craze hit, so I decided to start a youtube account with Maldini, a childhood friend of mine from Belgium, focusing on some of the world's best-known "mediums", who are also known as "psychics". The way we do it is this.

　　The way we sought money was like this, I would go in first and find out what was going on, Maldini would observe from the periphery and come back to analyse how the opposite party was faking, then Maldini would go in with glasses or a watch with a hidden camera, and then break up the other party's tricks on the spot, so we could take the opportunity to blackmail them for money, and if the other party would agree to pay to make things go away, then we'd pretend that nothing happened, and if the other party was tough, we'd pretend that nothing happened. If the other party agrees to pay money to settle the matter, we will pretend that nothing has happened. If the other party is tough, we will put the video of the dismantling on the Internet, which can not only harvest a wave of traffic, but also make the other party's reputation bad.

　　Relying on this method, Maldini and I made nearly seven million dollars in just two years, you may think this is a bit unbelievable, but those "psychic" customers are not lacking in some of the country's political dignitaries or the top tycoons, which is also the reason why they were blackmailed by us do not dare to raise their voices, looking at those who are high and mighty and pretend to be something they are not. Watching those high and mighty monks and witches who were playing with the mystical and the mysterious, swallowing their grievances and paying the money obediently, was really something, and this was also the motivation for me to keep on enjoying myself.

　　Maldini and I used the money to buy a house and a yacht, which we financed together.

　　One day we were out on the high seas on the yacht when one of our friends at the party mentioned the Sandal Witch.

　 I was soaking in the ocean and flirting with my girlfriend Katherine when I heard it and immediately climbed up on deck from the swim bay, "Wait, wait, wait, Eden, did I hear you right, are you guys kidding?"

　　"No joke, it's true, Thorgen's girlfriend saw it with her own eyes, I was there at the time, and her friend literally didn't last two days before-"

　　"Prophecy of death," I couldn't help but make an amused noise, "It's the easiest trick in the book, just buy off the administrators who have access to the hospital's electronic records, and make the proper distinctions between users, and it works perfectly, we really should have taken you with us when we went to look at that Indian crystal ball back then, you wouldn't have been able to --"

　　"Carl," Eden said, "you don't understand, her friend wasn't even sick, it was a sudden car accident that took her."

　　"Then checking her mental state and concentration could do the same," I explained to the person next to me, "People with obsessive-compulsive habits are even less fit to drive, that's for sure, and if you also have the habit of overtaking once to the left and then having to overtake once more to the right, the rate of accidents will also be high ."

　　"And how do you explain," Eden looked at me, "that the licence plate number, the model number, she was able to pinpoint that as well?"

　　I couldn't answer at this point, but in order not to lose face in front of everyone, I forced myself to explain in a relaxed manner, "You know what else it could be? That would be murder."

　　Eden couldn't help but shake her head, "Carl, you're already talking complete bollocks, who's going to - over a prophecy?"

　　"That's not a prophecy," I interrupted Eden, "That's their sign to solicit business, just wait, the fox can't hide from the good hunter, I'll show her what I'm made of."

　　That was the reason why I approached Sandal and took my clothes off and sat in the tray like a chicken as she requested.

　　And Sandal, after making a gothic show of it, told me with an outward roll of the eyes (wow, that's a trick I'd kinda like to learn) that-

　　"On the fourth Wednesday of July this year, you will die of rape."

　　------ Huh?

　　I was beginning to wonder if Sandar had got wind of something and was deliberately trying to tease me, but being the "advance team" of the Prophecy Terminator, I just rubbed my nose in it, paid the bill, and swore in my heart.

　　After I expose you as a liar, I will definitely blackmail you severely.

　　Coming out of Sandar's, I find Maldini.

　　"How did it go?" Maldini asked.

　　"Fine," I couldn't really say what the old woman had commented to me, so I told Maldini, "She said I'll die in a robbery, on the fourth Wednesday of next month."

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

　　Robbery and rape don't sound too far apart.

　　"So what should we do?" Maldini asked worriedly, "Is she going to send someone to rob you? How about you cancel your wedding to Katherine and we all hide out on the high seas for the day."

　　I immediately dismissed Maldini's suggestion, "No, that would be more of a show of strength, it doesn't matter, I've already hired a group of security companies to surround me, so if I survive the day, her prophecy will be broken."

　　That being said, my heart began to grow nervous as the day drew closer and closer, Katherine hadn't been paying attention when she was trying on wedding dresses and almost made her mad.

　　"Honey, it's all as you say," I had to dutifully offer my fanny pack, "You can pick which one you want, I'm going to take a call, I'll be right back."

　　The call was from Maldini, "The day is two weeks away, are you sure you don't want to cancel the wedding?"

　　"No cancellation." I said through gritted teeth, "It's not even a few days away anyway." I've thought about it, after we tie the knot, Katherine and I can use our honeymoon as an excuse to go to a small island abroad, and spend a month there in peace and quiet, and by that time, not to mention rape, it's probably unlikely that we'll even find a male gorilla, and there'll only be two of us on the whole island, unless she's suddenly genetically mutated to have a fifteen centimetre alien clitoris, and to be able to get away from being raped by Hot Coco and Gucci, and then to have a good time. Unless she suddenly developed a fifteen centimetre long alien clitoris and developed some bizarre sexual fetish out of her hot cocoa and Gucci mind.

　　Maldini was silent for a long time, "If you need anything, feel free to contact me."

　　As the days drew closer, my mind became more and more stressed in ways it hadn't been before, and I became paranoid, which is perhaps a kind of psychic suggestion, a talent widely used in the "psychic" world.

　　I began to feel that everyone was watching me, that they were the men in black sent by Sandar to terrorise me. I had nightmares for several nights in a row, and even on my wedding night, I woke up from my room in a cold sweat, gasping for breath in the moonlight, and I looked at Katherine, who was sleeping soundly in her bed, and the moonlight shone on her face, and at that moment, I suddenly noticed a kind of quiet majesty and cruelty in her face, which I had seen a million times. quiet majesty and cruelty, I suddenly realised that I knew nothing about the woman in front of me.

　　What subject did she study at university? Why didn't her aunt show up at the wedding? Who had she contacted on that phone call half a year ago?

　　A sudden shiver travelled down my spine.

　　What was Katherine's mother's original surname? It seemed to start with an S. Was it "Sandal"? Could Katherine be part of the Sandals' plan?

　　The seeds of doubt, once planted, quickly grew into trees, and I escaped from the island overnight, arriving in the Manchester I knew so well, and as I emerged from the airport with a black eye, I contacted the only person I trusted on a public phone, someone I'd known long before Katherine and I met - Maldini Courtois.

　　Maldini Courtois.

　　"Hello?" The breath I had been carrying for days finally came out as Maldini's voice came through the microphone,

　　"Maldini, it's me."

　　"Carl!" Maldini sounded surprised, "Why are you calling all of a sudden? Aren't you on your honeymoon?"

　　"Katherine can't be trusted, you're right." I spent the next ten minutes speaking to Maldini about the frequent warnings my sixth sense had been sending me for days, and my suspicions about what was going on between Katherine and Sandal.

　　"You have a point." Maldini mused for a moment before saying, "So it looks like conspiracy for Sandar to be learned by you as well."

　　I thought of Eden and my heart sank hard, "Is too much of a coincidence."

　　"Hold off on contacting the others for now to prevent messages from being passed between them and Katherine."

　　"That's what I thought." True to form, Maldini was thinking exactly what I was thinking, "I'm coming to get you."

　　"Where are you, I'll drive to pick you up."

　　"Don't do that, to prevent spooking, I'll come to you, where are you? At home?"

　　"Yes," said Maldini, "just about to have some wine, I've just opened a bottle of good vintage noble rot."

　　"Okay, I'll come to you."

　　Maldini also told me on the phone that he had a full entertainment setup in his basement, and that we were going to have a blast tonight.

　　I couldn't help but smile, I remembered that Maldini had told me that he had upgraded the security, I was sure that no one would be able to do me any harm once I was in that bunker, I would sleep well there, wait until the first rays of the sun hit the windows tomorrow, and then post Sandal's prophecy on the website, telling the world that she was a complete and utter liar.

　　And then I'll go ahead and write the actual end, after this line.