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

More figures emerged from the darkness, their silhouettes blocking the alley’s only exit. There were four of them, dressed in mismatched clothing that marked them as common thugs.

Miles’s instincts screamed at him to run.

“System, what do I do?” he whispered desperately.

“Evade. Immediate retreat recommended.”

Without hesitation, Miles turned and bolted down the alley.

“Hey! Don’t let him get away!” one of the thugs shouted, and the sound of pounding footsteps followed him.

Miles’s legs burned as he sprinted through the twisting alleys of Lumeina City. The streets seemed to close in around him, the labyrinthine paths confusing him further with each turn.

“System, guide me to safety!” he gasped.

The system chimed: “Path identified. Probability of escape: 63%.”

Miles followed the system’s directions, darting down a side street and scaling a low wall into an abandoned courtyard. He crouched behind a stack of crates, his chest heaving as he tried to catch his breath.

The voices of his pursuers grew louder.

“Where’d he go?”

“Split up! He couldn’t have gotten far!”

Miles bit his lip, willing himself to stay silent as the footsteps scattered.

As the thugs searched the area, Miles’s ears caught snippets of their conversation.

“He’s fresh meat,” one of them muttered.

“Yeah, probably doesn’t even know how things work in this city,” another said with a cruel laugh. “We get him, we sell him. Easy money.”

Miles’s stomach turned. Sell me? What does that even mean? He didn’t want to find out.

The system chimed softly in his mind: “Remaining hidden: essential. Probability of survival: low if discovered.”

Miles clenched his fists. “Yeah, I got that,” he whispered.

The thugs lingered for what felt like an eternity, their voices growing fainter as they moved further away. Eventually, the courtyard fell silent.

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Miles stayed crouched behind the crates for several minutes, listening intently. When he was certain the coast was clear, he let out a shaky breath and pulled out his dice.

“Roll for safety,” he whispered, tossing the dice onto the ground.

The system chimed: “Moderate success. Immediate threat diminished. Recommend finding secure shelter.”

Miles sagged against the crates, his exhaustion catching up with him. He had known Lumeina City would be challenging, but he hadn’t expected this level of danger.

“This place is insane,” he muttered. “I’m not even safe walking around at night.”

The system remained silent, offering no comfort.

As he made his way cautiously through the city, avoiding well-lit streets and keeping to the shadows, Miles couldn’t shake the feeling of being watched. His mind replayed the thugs’ words: “fresh meat” and “easy money.”

The realization hit him like a punch to the gut: his luck, the very thing that had saved him countless times before, was now painting a target on his back.

“System,” he said quietly, “why did I roll a 1 earlier? Isn’t my luck supposed to be better than that?”

“Luck is influenced by environmental factors. Current location: high-risk zone. Probability of low rolls increased.”

Miles frowned. “So what you’re saying is... the city itself makes me unlucky?”

“Correct.”

“Fantastic,” he muttered bitterly.

As he approached the edge of the market district, Miles spotted an inn that looked marginally better than the Silver Sparrow. He considered trying his luck again but decided against it.

“Not tonight,” he muttered. “I’ll figure out a better plan tomorrow.”

Instead, he found a quiet alcove near a warehouse and settled in for the night, his back against the cold stone wall.

As he sat there, his mind raced with thoughts of the day’s events. The thugs, the scams, the city’s oppressive atmosphere—it was all too much. For the first time since leaving his party, Miles felt truly alone.

But he wasn’t just alone; he was vulnerable.

“This city isn’t just dangerous,” he whispered to himself. “It’s a predator, and I’m its prey.”

The system chimed softly in agreement: “Recommendation: proceed with extreme caution. Trust no one.”

Miles sighed, pulling his cloak tighter around himself. He wasn’t sure how long he could keep this up, but one thing was clear: Lumeina City was a proving ground, and he would need every ounce of his luck—and skill—to survive it.

The night had been rough for Miles. Despite the relative quiet of his corner near the warehouse, the events of the previous night haunted his thoughts, and sleep had eluded him. When dawn finally broke, he felt like a hollow shell, his body sluggish and his mind clouded.

“Just a quick breakfast,” he muttered, dragging himself to the inn’s dining hall. “Then I’ll figure out what to do next.”

As he pushed open the door to the dining area, Miles was hit by a cacophony of voices. It wasn’t just loud—it was chaotic. Laughter, gasps, and animated chatter filled the air, making the small space feel suffocating.

“What’s going on here?” Miles mumbled, blinking against the noise.

His eyes were drawn to the center of the commotion. There, seated at one of the largest tables, was a man who seemed to radiate a strange, almost otherworldly energy.

The stranger was dressed in rich, tailored clothing, his dark velvet coat lined with golden trim that shimmered faintly in the light. His hair was a cascade of silvery blond waves that caught the sunlight streaming through the windows, making it look like it was glowing. His piercing blue eyes held a playful, knowing glint, and his smile was dazzling enough to disarm even the most guarded of hearts.

Every movement he made, no matter how subtle, drew the attention of the entire room. When he raised a hand to emphasize a point, a burst of laughter erupted from the crowd around him. When he leaned back in his chair, his gaze sweeping across the room, the chatter would die down, as if everyone was holding their breath.

Miles felt a strange unease settle in his chest.

“Who is this guy?” he whispered, more to himself than anyone else.