Not all scams were so obvious. At one stall, a man offered to appraise Miles’s dungeon items for free, claiming to be an expert in rare artifacts.

Miles rolled the dice to check his intentions. The system warned: “High probability of theft. Appraiser plans to swap items with counterfeits.”

“Thanks, but I think I’ll hold onto these,” Miles said, clutching his bag tightly.

The appraiser glared at him as he walked away, muttering something under his breath. Miles couldn’t help but feel a twinge of paranoia.

As the day wore on, Miles began to notice a pattern. Each time he walked away from a scam, the merchants seemed to exchange glances. Whispers followed him through the market, and he caught snippets of conversations about his “uncanny luck.”

The system chimed in: “Warning: Unusual attention detected. High probability of rumors spreading. Recommend lowering profile.”

“Great,” Miles muttered. “Just what I need—more people wondering about my rolls.”

He decided to wrap up his business quickly. After some careful negotiations (and a few well-placed rolls), he managed to sell his dungeon loot at a fair price to a legitimate merchant. But by the time he left the market, he felt the weight of too many eyes on him.

As night fell, Miles wandered the streets in search of an inn. The bustling crowds of the day had thinned, replaced by flickering lanterns and the occasional group of travelers or guards.

“System,” he said quietly, “let’s roll for a good inn.”

But then he hesitated. In the back of his mind, he could hear John’s voice: “Relying on your rolls too much can become a bad habit.”

Miles sighed. “I can find a decent place without rolling. How hard can it be?”

Ignoring the system’s soft chime of disapproval, he chose the first inn he came across: The Silver Sparrow.

The building looked respectable enough from the outside, with warm light spilling from its windows and a modest sign hanging above the door. Inside, the common room was lively, filled with laughter and the clinking of mugs.

The innkeeper, a portly man with a cheerful demeanor, greeted him warmly. “Looking for a room, traveler?”

“Yes,” Miles said. “How much for the night?”

“Five silver, including breakfast,” the innkeeper replied.

Taken from Royal Road, this narrative should be reported if found on Amazon.

Miles hesitated. The price seemed steep, but he didn’t want to roll and draw more attention to himself. “Fine,” he said, handing over the coins.

The room Miles was given was small and poorly lit, with a single lumpy bed and a window that didn’t close properly. The smell of damp wood lingered in the air, and the faint sounds of rats scurrying in the walls made his skin crawl.

“Five silver for this?” he muttered.

The system chimed: “Critical failure. Accommodation quality: poor. Overpriced.”

“Yeah, thanks for pointing that out now,” Miles grumbled, flopping onto the bed. He regretted not rolling for the inn, but he was too tired to care.

Just as he was starting to drift off, a loud argument broke out in the common room below. Voices shouted back and forth, followed by the sound of something breaking. Miles tensed, his hand instinctively reaching for his dice.

“System,” he whispered. “What’s going on?”

The system replied: “Danger detected. Moderate probability of violence. Recommend evacuation.”

Miles groaned. “Of course.”

Grabbing his belongings, Miles slipped out of the room and down the back stairs. He didn’t stop until he was several blocks away, his heart pounding in his chest.

“Lesson learned,” he muttered. “Always roll for safety.”

The system chimed softly: “Acknowledged.”

Miles spent the rest of the night wandering the quieter parts of the city, too wary to try another inn. Eventually, he found a quiet spot near the city walls where he could rest without being disturbed.

As he stared up at the stars, he thought about his journey so far. Lumeina City had been a harsh reminder that the world was full of opportunists, and his luck wouldn’t always be enough to keep him safe.

But it also reinforced something he’d been learning all along: he couldn’t rely on the system for everything.

Tomorrow, he’d figure out his next steps. For now, he let the cool night air soothe his nerves and drifted into a light, uneasy sleep.

The streets of Lumeina City were unrecognizable under the moonlight. What had been bustling and colorful during the day now seemed shrouded in an eerie stillness. Lanterns hung low, casting long, flickering shadows that seemed to dance and writhe like living things. Miles walked briskly, his steps echoing faintly on the cobblestone streets.

The cool night air was refreshing, and for the first time since he had arrived in the city, Miles felt like he could breathe.

“This isn’t so bad,” he muttered to himself, glancing up at the stars barely visible through the city haze. “A quiet stroll, no market scams, no dice rolls... Peaceful.”

But that peace was deceptive, a thin veil hiding the dangers lurking in the city’s underbelly.

As he turned into a narrower alley to cut across the district, Miles felt the system stir.

“Roll for safety,” it chimed suddenly, startling him.

“What? Why? I’m just walking!”

The system remained silent, but Miles, now uneasy, pulled out his dice and let them tumble across his palm. The result was immediate.

“Roll result: 1. Danger detected. Immediate action required.”

Miles froze. A chill ran down his spine as he scanned his surroundings, his heart beginning to race. The shadows seemed thicker now, more oppressive, and the faint sound of footsteps echoed somewhere behind him.

“Danger?” he whispered under his breath. “Where—?”

His question was answered by a low, menacing chuckle behind him.

He spun around, but the alley was empty—or so it seemed. He took a cautious step back, his senses on high alert. Then he saw it: a figure, half-hidden in the shadows, moving toward him with deliberate slowness.

“Hey there,” the figure said, his voice smooth and casual. “You look lost, friend.”

Miles thought he was being attacked by one person, but his theory was proven wrong quickly.