He stared at the System task, his heart pounding as if it were the final boss in an arcade game. “Alright, sure—my stats may not be stellar, but I could use a luckier name,” he said, though his mind was a swirling mess of doubts and half-baked ideas. At first, he toyed with the idea of simply adopting “Lucky.” But that sounded like a name for a carnival barker, not someone who’d spent his life dodging banana peels and mishaps. “Luckzor” flitted briefly through his mind next—too over-the-top, like something a comic book villain would choose. And “El Lucko”? That was downright absurd, evoking images of a cheesy Mexican wrestling reject.
The System had given him a strict limitation: only one letter could change. One letter! It felt like being handed a single puzzle piece and told to reassemble your entire identity.
He tapped his fingers on the desk, his gaze fixed on his current name: Malick. “I can only change one letter, huh?” he murmured, almost in disbelief. Every option he considered seemed to mock him with its inadequacy. His internal debate grew heated—a battle of irony and self-doubt. Was it possible that a single letter could salvage his legacy of misfortune?
Malick stared at his name on the screen, rubbing his chin. If luck was the issue, maybe a little rebranding was in order. He could only change one letter, so he had to make it count.
“Alright… let’s tweak this.”
Malik? Dropping the C made it look cleaner, but did it actually do anything? It just felt like his name had been autocorrected.
Malickk? Too many K’s. Now it looked like an internet username from middle school.
Malich? He tilted his head. Was this supposed to sound mysterious? Was he now an undead wizard?
Malixk? Ugh. Now it just felt like he was trying too hard to be edgy.
Malack? No, that just looked like an old-timey insult. “Thou art a Malack!”
Malock? Now he sounded like a cheesy 80’s detective .
Malisk? That sounded like a mister that could petrify you with it’s stare
Malicko? Nope, now he was just an off-brand Italian soda. “Drink a Malicko… eeets a deeeliccouso!”
Alright, maybe the issue wasn’t the last few letters. What if he changed the M?
Balick? Now he just sounded like a medieval knight. “Balick the Brave went out to save the Princess, hope in his heart…onwards my steed!”
Galick? Wait… wasn’t that a seasoning?
Palick? Ugh. Now it sounded like he was some weird fusion of a friend (pal) and his own name.
Talick? That one actually almost worked. It had a kind of rogue-ish charm—then he realized it sounded like a prescription drug.
Halick? No. Just no. It looked like he was trying to cosplay as some long-lost Norse god.
Zalick? Now he sounded like a futuristic DJ.
He groaned, slumping back. Maybe the System was just screwing with him.
Finallyyyyy though…..
“Maluck,” he whispered, the word tasting bittersweet on his tongue.
Could swapping an “I” for a “U” really signal a fresh start?
It was as if that one letter encapsulated every failure and every hopeful dream of turning his luck around.
You could be reading stolen content. Head to the original site for the genuine story.
With a shaky exhale and trembling fingers, he reached for the confirm button. The screen blinked in response, sealing his decision. It wasn’t just a name change; it was a small act of rebellion against the relentless parade of bad luck that had defined him for so long. And though the road ahead remained as unpredictable as ever, for the first time in a long while, he felt a spark of hope—and maybe, just maybe, a little bit of luck.
***
After he hit the confirm button, he was taken aback. “Isn’t there supposed to be a prize or bonus or something?” he wondered aloud. Instead of confetti or bonus multipliers, the screen simply confirmed the change. His name was now Maluck—a single, decisive letter swap that promised a hint of fortune amid his long streak of misadventures.
Biting his lip in disbelief, he addressed the System. “System, I’ve changed my name. Why isn’t the task complete?”
Almost immediately, a response lit up his vision in a pleasantly conversational tone:
The curt, arrogant tone had given way to a kinder, more empathetic voice.
[System Response] Ah, Host, it’s nice to chat with you. Of course, you’ve changed your name in the System, but you need to do it legally on Earth. That won’t be easy, but rest assured, the System will register your name change as completed as long as you start the process. No need to wait for actual paperwork. You’re doing great!
Maluck let out a half-chuckle. “Thank you, System, for the clear and kind response. You’re so much better than when I talked to you earlier.”
[System Response] It takes time for the System to fully merge with a host, and sometimes communication isn’t as smooth as it could be. I know it can be frustrating, but please remember, you’re not alone in this. We’re figuring it out together, step by step, and I’ll do my best to support you as we go.
Unbeknownst to him, a day had passed since his initial interaction, and the System’s controller had changed. Pride had stepped aside, replaced by Kindness—infusing every message with surprising warmth. Part of what made Pride so pissy? His turn as controller on the first day after blessing the bracelet was spent watching Malick sleep.
“Thanks, System,” Maluck mused. “Now I just need to brave the wild world of Earth bureaucracy. Wish me luck.”
[System Response] Good luck! You can do it! I believe in you!
“Alright, how do I go about legally changing my name on Earth?”
He started a SkewesSearch, scrolling through instructions for changing his name in Alberta. First, he checked the eligibility—18 or older, check. Resident for 3 months, check. Proof of Canadian citizenship, check.
Next, he saw he’d need to fill out some forms, gather a bunch of documents, and, for some reason, get a criminal record check—because apparently the government wanted to make sure he wasn’t trying to outrun a shady past.
The cherry on top was the fees—about $120, plus a few extra charges for fingerprints and registry services. After that, he’d submit everything, wait 6 to 8 weeks, and boom, a new name and a mountain of paperwork to prove it. ‘At least,’ he thought, it will be worth it.’
With a determined nod and a resigned sigh, Maluck accepted the challenge. The System task might not have showered him with instant cash or flashy bonuses, but it had set him on a new path—a path toward legally becoming “Maluck”, a name that was both a nod to his past misadventures and a hopeful promise for a brighter, if paperwork-laden, future.
***
After paying his bill, he headed out of the diner and made his way to the local registry. Luckily, this wasn’t a government office with 9-to-5 hours. Registries in Alberta were private and could set their own hours.
The idea of a legal name change felt like embarking on an epic quest—one that involved more paperwork than a tax audit but promised to transform his life, at least on paper.
Walking into the registry in Edmonton, Alberta, he recalled all the horror stories he’d heard about the DMV in America. In Canada, however, things were relatively simple—especially at reputable spots like Ellerslie Registry, which boasted quick and efficient service.
With his paperwork neatly bundled, he handed everything over to the registry agent. He couldn’t help but feel as though he were handing in his old “Malick” identity for a total upgrade—like trading in a rusty clunker for a sleek, brand-new ride. Though the bureaucratic process might have been tedious, in his mind it was a crucial first step toward transforming his luck—and his entire life.
If approved, he’d soon receive a Certificate of Name Change—official proof that his new identity, Maluck, was set in stone. Then came the fun part: updating his driver’s license, health card, SIN, passport… basically every piece of identification that declared his existence to the world.
As he sat in the waiting area, flipping through a magazine and wondering if the processing time of 6–8 weeks felt like an eternity or just enough time to plan his next misadventure. Here he was, a guy whose life had been defined by hangovers, car breakdowns, and viral parade fails, now trying to change his stars with one simple letter.
After this paperwork, he would emerge as Maluck—an identity that promised to attract better fortune, or at least, a new chapter filled with more quirky adventures. And for now, with the scent of freshly printed documents mingling with the lingering aroma of greasy breakfast, Maluck felt like he was finally taking control of his destiny, one bureaucratic step at a time.