Maluck pulled into an empty parking spot in front of the shop, took a deep breath, and stepped inside. The small bell jingled as the door swung open, and there, standing behind the counter like something straight out of a mystical artifact pawn shop cliché, was the mysterious old Chinese man.

The old man squinted at him, rubbing his chin, a glint of knowing in his eyes. “Ah, are you looking to change your luck?” His voice was low, almost a whisper, as though he was speaking a secret only the winds could hear. “Luck is not a simple thing, my friend. It is like the river—sometimes it flows freely, sometimes it pools, and other times it runs dry. But it is always moving, changing. And with the right guidance, you can learn to steer its course.”

He leaned in slightly, his gaze intense, as though peering into the very fabric of Maluck’s future. “Changing your luck is not about chasing fortune. It is about understanding the dance between your choices and the unseen forces that surround you. Only those who walk with wisdom can change the winds in their favor. Be patient, be humble, and the currents will shift in your direction. Just remember—luck is a gift, but it’s the way you use it that defines you.”

The old man paused, letting the words settle in the air like a spell, before adding with a knowing smile, “But remember, the winds of fortune are fickle… and they can turn just as quickly as they change.”

Then his expression shifted as recognition dawned.

‘Ah, hell.’

It was Maluck. The guy who had really overpaid for the bracelet. The guy who had been the tipping point for their relocation to Calgary.

‘Crap.’

The old man quickly switched gears, his posture snapping into polite salesman mode.

“Ah, benefactor!” he said smoothly. “What brings you all the way to Calgary?”

On the inside, he was mildly panicking.

‘Is he here for a refund? That would be bad. Very bad.’ Only a couple of people had asked for a refund. He never gave them one, though. It had gotten bad enough that they’d even changed the shop’s city location.

And considering Maluck had dropped two grand, making a three-hour drive and tracking him down wasn’t entirely unreasonable if he was feeling scam vibes. But still, the thought of refunds made his skin crawl. You know, in that “I’ve got a bad taste in my mouth and a sinking feeling in my stomach” kind of way.

‘Damn it. I really should have moved all the way to Vancouver. Or at least made sure nobody knew where we went.’

Well, no point in panicking now.

‘Let’s see if I can talk my way out of this.’

Maluck smiled. “I came to thank you.”

The old man blinked.

Wait. ‘What?’

Was this a trap?

“What?” the old man blurted out, then quickly recovered. “Ah, of course, of course! But may I ask what you’re thanking me for?”

“The bracelet, of course.”

Oh, that was unexpected.

The old man narrowed his eyes, still not fully convinced he wasn’t being set up for something. “Ohhh, the fortune bracelet?”

“Yeah, it’s completely changed my life. My luck has never been better.”

Maluck beamed, radiating pure gratitude.

The old man, meanwhile, was struggling to process this.

‘This guy actually believes it worked?’

“…Well, no thanks needed!” The old man quickly pivoted into gracious mode, his eyes gleaming with something otherworldly. “Your donation of $2,000 was very helpful. It will add to the balance of the universe in ways you cannot yet see, but trust me, it is already working its magic. The flow of energy is being shifted.”

He gave Maluck a knowing smile, one that made him feel like he’d just stepped into a strange world, one where money and luck were not just matters of chance, but cosmic forces at play.

Maluck crossed his arms, tilting his head. “But you still moved the store. I thought the two grand would’ve been enough to cover the rent.”

The old Chinese man sighed, shaking his head slowly as if remembering something far older than just the conversation. “Ah, we gathered the money, yes,” he murmured, his voice thick with the weight of ancient wisdom. “But the landlord—vicious man—refused it. Said he would rather leave the place empty, as if he could keep the fortune locked away from the world. But the winds of fate are not so easily stopped, young one. Some things are meant to flow, no matter how much resistance they face.”

He looked up at Maluck with a glint in his eye, as though he knew more than he let on. “Everything has its time. The universe will see to it that things find their place, even if not in the way we expect.”

Maluck frowned. “Why the hell would he do that?”

The old man let out an exaggerated sigh, his shoulders slumping as if the weight of countless untold years had finally caught up with him. “Ah,” he murmured, his voice laced with ancient weariness, “he said it was better to leave it vacant, to let it wither, so he could tear it down and build a mega complex. A thing of steel and glass, like all the others.”

He paused, shaking his head slowly, as though disappointed by the folly of modern men. “But the land, it remembers,” he continued, his voice lowering as if speaking to the earth itself. “The stones and the walls—they’ve seen countless changes. And no matter how many towers rise, the old ways still whisper beneath it all. The greedy may try to claim it, but the land always has its own plans.”

He looked up at Maluck, his eyes gleaming with a hint of knowing. “The winds will shift. What is meant to be will find its way, whether through the cracks or over the walls. Remember that.”

Maluck groaned. “Of course. Nothing says ‘great city planning’ like another overpriced concrete box.”

The old man’s eyes sparkled with a depth that seemed to transcend time, his voice carrying the weight of forgotten wisdom. “Indeed, benefactor. Your generosity… it flows like a river, unseen but powerful. Though the stones may shift and the winds may howl, your donation still ripples through the fabric of things, affecting what you cannot yet see.”

He clasped his hands together, a gesture that seemed to hold the weight of countless prayers. “Your kindness, though small in your eyes, has woven threads of fate, guiding us through shadowed paths. And for that, we are eternally grateful.”

He bowed his head slightly, as though acknowledging not just Maluck, but the unseen forces that had conspired to bring them together. “The universe always returns what is given, in ways both grand and subtle. Know this: your help was not just material, but spiritual. You’ve set things in motion… and we are forever in your debt.”

He straightened, his smile warm but mysterious, as though he could see the path ahead that Maluck could not. “And the path you walk, benefactor, will be one filled with unexpected twists and gifts. Of that, I am certain.”

Maluck nodded. “Well, that’s good to hear.” Then, after a pause, he leaned in slightly. “Can you tell me more about the bracelet and its powers?”

You could be reading stolen content. Head to Royal Road for the genuine story.

The old man did not hesitate for a second.

As an experienced con artist, this was his moment to shine.

The old man’s eyes narrowed with practiced wisdom, and he stroked his beard as if recalling some long-forgotten secret of the universe.

“Ah, yes… the bracelet,” he began, his voice soft yet commanding, like a man who had spent decades unraveling the mysteries of fate itself.

Maluck leaned in, completely hooked.

“This is no ordinary trinket,” the old man continued. “It is an artifact of immense power, forged in the fires of destiny itself.”

His hands moved dramatically, as if he were tracing unseen energy in the air.

“Legend speaks of seven great celestial forces—beings beyond human comprehension—that once roamed the astral plane. They battled endlessly, shaping the very fabric of luck and fortune in the mortal world.”

He paused for effect, glancing at Maluck, who was hanging onto every word like he was listening to a prophecy.

The old man lowered his voice, adding an air of secrecy.

“Only one artifact was ever made to balance these forces… one object, imbued with their very essence, capable of bending fate itself. This bracelet.”

Maluck’s eyes widened.

“Wait, seriously?”

The old man nodded gravely, pretending to hesitate, as if he were about to reveal forbidden knowledge.

“Yes, but only the worthy can wield it,” he said, eyeing Maluck as if assessing his soul. “Most who attempt to harness its power… fail. Their luck turns against them. They are… consumed by misfortune.”

Maluck instinctively tightened his grip on the bracelet.

The old man continued, smoothly shifting into a more intricate web of lies.

“But you… you are different.”

His tone shifted, carrying a hint of awe, admiration—just enough to stroke Maluck’s ego.

“The bracelet chose you. That means you possess a rare energy, a balance of fate itself. That is why your life has changed, why luck now bends in your favor.”

Maluck nodded slowly, this explanation fitting perfectly into what he had already observed.

The old man noticed that his nonsense was working beautifully, so he kept going.

“The bracelet’s power fluctuates,” he said, voice heavy with meaning. “It must be nurtured, respected. When properly attuned, it can shift even the most improbable circumstances in your favor. But if neglected…”

He let the sentence hang ominously.

Maluck swallowed hard.

“Wait, neglected how?”

The old man let out a deep sigh, shaking his head.

“The energies within are ancient. They must be maintained, recharged. If not… well, even the luckiest man can find himself stranded in the storms of fate.”

Maluck’s brain clicked immediately—this explained why his luck points had been running low, why things seemed to be getting slightly off.

The old man watched as realization dawned on Maluck’s face.

‘Oh, this is going better than expected.’

Deciding to really sell it, he gestured toward the bracelet.

The old man leaned closer, his eyes glinting with an ancient, knowing light. “Tell me, have you noticed… strange occurrences? Things that seem too perfectly timed, too coincidental to be mere chance?” He paused, letting the words linger in the air like smoke from an old incense. “Perhaps, you’ve felt an unseen hand guiding you, or a voice in your mind telling you what to do?”

He leaned back, the smile on his face both comforting and unsettling. “Fate is like a river, benefactor. It flows in mysterious ways, twisting and turning with currents you can’t see, but always leading you somewhere. Perhaps you’ve felt its current… pulling you toward something greater than you ever imagined?”

His voice lowered, almost to a whisper, as if sharing an ancient secret. “When the stars align, and the right choices are made, things… things begin to fall into place. Your actions ripple out, touching the unseen threads of destiny. Do you feel it? That subtle shift, the sense that things are beginning to make sense in ways you cannot fully grasp yet?”

He gave a knowing nod, his expression unreadable. “If you pay attention, the universe will show you what you must do. But be warned—sometimes, the answers come in ways we least expect.”

Maluck nodded enthusiastically. “Yes! That’s exactly what’s been happening!”

The old man smiled knowingly, as if he had expected this.

“Ah, then it is working. You are in harmony with its energy. But be mindful—the forces of luck are like the tides. They must be respected, or they will turn against you.”

Maluck took this all in, eyes wide, completely believing every word.

The old man, meanwhile, was internally patting himself on the back.

‘Damn, I’m good at this.’

Maluck listened intently, nodding along. It all made perfect sense.

At least, to him.

The old man, meanwhile, couldn’t believe his luck.

He had just made up half of that on the spot.

After finishing his totally-not-bullshit explanation, the con man watched as Maluck’s eyes glazed over for a brief second.

And then—

[System Task Accomplished] Find Your Benefactors

+ 10 Luck Points.

Maluck grinned as the notification flashed in his mind. ‘Yes! Finally, I have luck points again!’

The old man, noticing Maluck’s happy expression, took the opportunity to strike again.

“The old man’s eyes sparkled with an enigmatic wisdom as he leaned forward, his voice dropping to a near-whisper. “Ah, you seek the favor of fate, yes? The bracelet has served you well, but even the strongest of charms can grow weary, like a candle that burns too long without a fresh breath of flame.”

He stroked his long, flowing beard thoughtfully, as if considering something far beyond the mortal realm. “If you wish, I can help recharge the bracelet’s luck for you. A small ritual, a simple touch of the ancient forces that flow through us all. It’s not difficult… but only if your heart is in the right place.”

Maluck’s ears perked up. “Oh? That’d be great.”

‘This could be an easy way to boost my Luck Level without grinding for points.’

The old man nodded sagely, his eyes narrowing with an air of deep, ancient knowledge. “Yes, yes… the energy to restore balance to such an item requires more than mere will—it requires sacrifice, power, and the alignment of forces not easily harnessed.” He paused dramatically, stroking his chin as if pondering a great mystery.

“Ah, but fear not, for I am capable. However, it will take time—time to prepare, to call upon the ancient currents that bind us all. For such rituals do not rush. They flow like a river, steady and unyielding.”

His gaze grew distant, as if he were looking far beyond the room, seeing things unseen by others. “There are… rare ingredients required. Ingredients that are difficult to come by, hidden away in forgotten corners of the world. Quite expensive, too, I’m afraid. Some may call them priceless, but you will see… the cost is always higher than you expect.”

He leaned in closer, his voice lowering to a whisper, as if sharing a secret only the truly enlightened could understand. “But it is worth it, for in this exchange, great power will flow your way. Fortune’s tides will shift, and your luck will be renewed.”

He stepped back, a knowing smile crossing his face. “It’s not a simple thing, but nothing worth having ever is, hmm?”

Maluck squinted. “How expensive?”

The old man pretended to hesitate, his face contorting into an expression of deep reluctance, as though the very mention of money caused him great pain. He looked down at the bracelet, then back up at Maluck with an almost apologetic gaze, as if burdened by the task of asking.

“To restore it to its full strength, to truly awaken its potential?” he said slowly, his voice dropping to a near whisper, as though he were imparting a sacred secret. “One thousand dollars, my friend.”

He sighed dramatically, his eyes narrowing with a touch of sorrow. “But you must understand, it is not simply for the physical materials. No, no. It is for the energy, the power of the universe itself. To call upon these forces, to align fate in your favor, requires more than just currency. It is the balance of energy that we must honor.”

His hand waved dismissively as if trying to brush away the weight of the offer, yet his gaze remained steady. “But of course, this is not a small price to pay. Great fortune, after all, is never attained without some cost.”

He sighed dramatically. “But! I cannot ask this of you, benefactor. You have already done so much for us.”

Maluck, without a second thought, shook his head. “No, no. I insist.”

‘This is a bargain! A thousand bucks to boost my luck again? Maybe it’ll move it up two or three levels!’

The old man nearly choked on his own saliva as Maluck peeled off a thousand dollars from his remaining cash roll and handed it over.

As the old man accepted the cash, his sharp eyes locked onto the rest of the stack.

‘Ohhh, this is definitely an opportunity.’

He forced a solemn nod, his fingers gently brushing the bills as though handling a sacred relic, their significance far beyond mere paper. “Very well,” he murmured, his voice thick with reverence. “Come back tomorrow night, when the shop is closed, and I will have everything prepared.”

He stepped back, his movements slow and deliberate, as though he were sealing some ancient pact between them. “It will be a time of alignment, when the world is quiet and the energies flow freely. Only then can we truly harness the luck you seek.”

His eyes twinkled with an unfathomable depth, as if he knew that tomorrow’s ritual would change everything. “You must trust in the process. The universe will guide us, but you must be ready to receive it.”

With that, he turned and vanished into the back of the shop, the faint sound of wind chimes tingling softly in the background, as if the very air had thickened with the promise of something mystical unfolding.

Maluck nodded eagerly. “Sounds good. Do I need to take the bracelet off now?”

He was really reluctant to give it up, even for a moment.

The old man raised his hands with an almost dramatic flourish, his eyes gleaming with ancient knowledge. “No, no!” he said, his voice filled with urgency. “Keep it on. It must absorb your essence overnight. Without this, the ritual may not take full effect.”

His fingers trembled slightly as he pointed to the bracelet, now resting in Maluck’s palm, almost as if the object itself were alive. “The bracelet needs your energy, your intent. It is not just an object, but a vessel. If you remove it, its connection to you will weaken. The stars must align with you wearing it, drawing in your will, your spirit. Only then can the luck truly flow.”

He paused, a knowing look crossing his face as he gazed deeply into Maluck’s eyes. “Trust the process. Let it bond with you, and the change will come. But only if you leave it undisturbed.”

Maluck had no idea what that meant, but it sounded mystical enough to be legit.

“Alright, then. See you tomorrow night.”

As he walked out of the shop, the old man watched him go, still marveling at his incredible luck.

‘Easiest thousand dollars I’ve ever made. And tomorrow? I might just make more.’

***