He grabbed his keys, shoved on his shoes (one of them was suspiciously damp, but he chose not to investigate), and walked out the door. There was a greasy spoon he liked just around the corner, the kind of place where the floors were always just a little too sticky, and the waitresses called you “hon” whether they liked you or not. The best thing? It was open 24/7 and always served breakfast, no matter the time of day.
His go-to order? The legendary ChumbaBumba —named because it was perfect for when you got knocked down and needed to get up again. Two eggs (cooked however the chef felt like making them that day), greasy sausages that probably defied health regulations, crispy bacon that was at least 60% salt, pancakes big enough to be used as flotation devices, and hash browns—the good kind, the little patties, not those chaotic diced ones that always tasted like disappointment. Best of all? Unlimited coffee. All of it for just twelve bucks, which, in his opinion, made this place a temple of divinity.
For him, this was heaven. A place of healing. A shrine dedicated to the sacred art of curing hangovers through sheer caloric force. And, more importantly, the perfect spot to sit down and figure out what the hell this System was all about.
***
Sitting down at a booth and waiting for his breakfast to arrive, Malick let out a long, slow sigh. His body still felt like it had been hit by a truck, then backed over for good measure. But the promise of food and coffee was enough to keep him conscious. His first coffee couldn’t come soon enough. When it finally arrived, he wasted no time drowning it in sugar and creamer, using at least five of those tiny plastic cups like a man on the verge of collapse. A testament to how desperate he was to banish his hangover.
‘All right, I’ve explored the stat sheet and the skills list, even though I think it’s not 100% accurate. Seriously below average charisma? Let’s see what else is there?’ He scrolled through the System menu until something caught his eye. ‘Ooh, look, inventory.’
He mentally tapped the button, half-expecting to find a treasure trove of hidden riches. Maybe some secret rewards for surviving terrible life choices? Nope. The inventory was about as barren as his fridge. In fact, there was only one thing listed.
Item: Bad Luck Bracelet
‘Ah, yes,’ he muttered, glancing down at the bracelet on his wrist. ‘This bad boy’s gonna change my life.’
What he didn’t realize was that the bracelet itself was about as special as a gas station scratch-off ticket. It was the Seven Sins and Virtues that had blessed it, turning it into something worth having. Without them, it was just another cheap trinket that probably wouldn’t even fetch five bucks on Zbay. But hey, it didn’t matter. He had the bracelet. He had the System. And life was about to get seriously better.
And speaking of life getting better—his breakfast had arrived. A glorious, heart-clogging masterpiece. The ChumbaBumba sat before him, steaming and golden, practically waving at him with its greasy goodness. Two perfect eggs, glistening bacon, fat sausages, crispy hash brown patties—not that weak diced-up stuff—and a stack of pancakes ready to be drowned in syrup.
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Malick grinned, grabbing his fork. ‘System or no System, THIS is a blessing.’
***
As he started to work his way through the ChumbaBumba, he couldn’t help but reflect on his current plans and lifestyle. The job interview he was supposed to attend yesterday was clearly a non-starter. If you had the choice between someone who shows up on time and someone who doesn’t arrive, there’s simply no contest—you wouldn’t choose the absentee interviewee.
And, honestly, it wasn’t like he boasted any particularly impressive skills for the role. The job was at a security company that valued military experience, but come on—how useful was wildlife survival in an urban security gig? Sure, he could survive a bear attack in the wild, but navigating office politics and unlocking a door with a keycard were a completely different skill set.
He found himself reminiscing about his time in the military. Part of him wished he hadn’t washed out, but after completing the bare minimum of mandatory service, he had to admit that a life in uniform was fraught with danger—especially for someone as notoriously accident-prone as he was. His chronic bad luck seemed to affect everything, including his ability to handle firearms with any semblance of competence.
One incident in particular stood out in his memory. There he was, marching proudly on parade, when suddenly he noticed something utterly absurd—a banana peel on the floor. “Seriously?” he thought. Before he could even process his disbelief, KERSPLAT, he slipped, sending himself sprawling in a spectacular display of unintended acrobatics. In one fell comedic moment, he took down half of his squad, turning what was meant to be a dignified march into a full-blown slapstick routine.
Of course, the incident had its own viral afterlife. It was still on ViewTube under the title “You Won’t Believe What Happens During This Parade!” with the hashtag #CanadianMilitaryFail trending among military mishap compilations. Every time he thought about it, he couldn’t help but laugh bitterly—if only to remind himself that sometimes his life felt like a never-ending blooper reel. But now he knew it was all because of bad luck and wasn’t his fault personally.
As he chewed through his breakfast, the greasy goodness of the meal somehow made all these reflections a little more bearable. Despite the setbacks, he couldn’t help but feel that maybe, just maybe, his life was an adventure in the making—even if it was previously filled with banana peels and missed opportunities.
But still he had to find a job or some way to make some cash. Maybe the System could help?
***
Just when he was thinking about how he could use the System to score some extra cash, a prompt suddenly appeared in his vision. The words blinked onto the screen in bold, neon letters, as if the universe itself had decided to give him a little nudge—an opportunity, or perhaps a challenge.
[System Task] Change your name from Malick to something luckier. You can only change 1 letter. Reward to be determined based on completion speed.
For a moment, he blinked in disbelief. Was the system really offering him a way to line his pockets? The System had been curt, and arrogant yesterday, so he didn’t trust it completely.
He rubbed his eyes, half-expecting the prompt to vanish like a hangover after a hearty breakfast. But there it was, persistent and glowing with promise.
“Ah, so that’s how it’s gonna work,” he muttered to himself, a wry smile tugging at his lips. “When life gives you lemons, apparently the System offers you a task for making lemonade stands.”
His mind raced with possibilities. Could this be his chance to finally balance out the cosmic scales of bad luck? With the lingering taste of greasy breakfast and a head still recovering from the previous night’s bad choices, he felt a surge of determination. Maybe this was the universe—or his System—saying, “Hey, here’s a way to cash in on your misfortune. Prove you deserve it!”
With a deep, resolute breath and a renewed sense of purpose, he accepted the task. The System had given him a chance to prove that even a guy like him could turn his luck around. And as he set off to complete his first task, he couldn’t help but chuckle at the awesomeness of it all.