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Chapter 9: Luck Is a Bitch

Imagine: you are walking down the street, maybe whistling a little tune like Jingle Bells, because that song always fits, even in the middle of summer with forty degrees under shadows. People wave at you as you walk by, because they know you, because you and your family are friends with most of them. This is your neighborhood. A dog barks from a house nearby: a tiny chihuahua. The little bastard could use something to keep that barking at bay, it’s annoying, seeing how it usually starts to bark at six in the morning. Precisely. It was useful when you had to go to school, but now that it’s summer break and you can finally sleep it’s just unbearable.

Still, you’re not the kind of neighbor that complains about such small things. You tell yourself that you’ll just get used to it and tune out the sound after a while. You know won’t manage that, your mind is already thinking about where you could buy some earplugs. Maybe the local pharmacy has some. Seems like a good excuse to see that cute girl, Alice. A really charming individual. Some people would say that the bags under her eyes make her look a lot less attractive, but you don’t care. You think of them as little light purple hands supporting her beautiful light green eyes.

Imagine then, if you will, closing your eyes. Not as in, completely, no, just batting them. That single moment of darkness that people don’t ever notice.

Liam did just that. As he walked down the street towards his house, ready for an afternoon of light fun, maybe a game or two with his online friends, then have dinner and watch a film with his parents, he batted his eyes.

And he found himself on a battlefield.

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The System observed the boy, its programming stopping for a short while as it dedicated a good chunk of its processing power to understanding how to fix the current situation.

It Looked at the boy, and Saw him and everything he was.

Liam Roy, 22 years old, male, human, chestnut eyes and hair, small button nose with a slight imperfection in the nasal sect, 28 teeth, missing all four wisdom teeth, slight breathing fatigue caused by asthma at a young age, small opening in the mitral valve in the heart, nothing serious for now, bone callus on the left ulna, everything else nominal.

It knew the boy’s fears and wants, the things he liked and disliked, it knew everything he remembered and even the things he had forgotten.

And, in all this, there was a single problem: the boy hadn’t made a wish.

[Error…]

[Unable to Execute Protocol: Last Wish]

[Attempting to Circumvent Protocol…]

[Attempting…]

[Attempt Failed!]

[Looking for Alternative Solution…]

[Looking…]

[Alternative Solution Found!]

[Engaging Protocol: Luck Is a Bitch!]

[Drawing Up Random Class!]

[Class Assigned!]

[Sending Query: Why is the Protocol named this way?]

[Sent!]

[Expected Time for Answer to Query: T-Minus ∞ Minutes]

[Returning to Protocol: Observe and Judge!]

That situation taken care of, the System went back to its usual state. The rest of its mind informed it of all the actions of the mortals and few immortals on the planet. It took note, assigned the righteously earned points to the right individuals, decided the eventual Classes they would receive or evolve into, and then kept Observing. Just another day.

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The first thing that hit him was the screaming.

Or does it count as shouting? asked a little intrusive thought in his mind.

That was more or less the last moment of peace he had. Because he was on a battlefield full of soldiers. And said soldiers didn’t care who he was or how he had gotten here. They saw a man, and they didn’t recognize the colors of his clothes. Most of them didn’t notice that he wasn’t wearing any armor: there was no time for that on the battlefield.

The second thing that hit Liam was a shield. Right in the face. The impact was so sudden he didn’t realize he was hit until he lay on the ground, dazed, his nose broken and bleeding, his head abuzz.

What was happening? Where was he? Wh-

Something pierced his left shoulder. He screamed, the pain on his face forgotten as an even greater pain radiated from the new wound. Tears appeared in his eyes and flowed uncontrollably as his mind tried to understand what to do, since some subconscious, nearly animalistic, instinct had already told the rational part of his mind to go fuck itself and taken over. He looked around for a single moment, trying to figure out what had hurt him, and noticed the sword stuck in his shoulder. And the hand holding its hilt. Hand that pulled, taking the weapon out.

Pain flared again and he screamed.

He didn’t know it, but he had been lucky that first time. The soldier had slipped, and a blow that should have hit him in the heart had instead found his shoulder.

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The unknown soldier, helmet covering his head, raised the weapon high and went for the killing blow.

Liam rolled sideways, missing the sharp blade by a few centimeters. The soldier didn’t miss a beat and booted him in the side, going for another strike.

Liam rolled again, but this time towards the soldier. His left shoulder screamed, and he screamed with it, as he pushed himself towards the man, hitting him in the legs. The man keened forward, trying to stay on his feet, but the momentum behind his swing carried him over, making him fall over the young man. They scrambled around, Liam trying to lift the man, and failing miserably because he was wearing armor and Liam wasn’t exactly muscled, while the soldier tried to stab him with the sword, and kept failing because either he sacrificed a part of his body to kill the boy or he didn’t.

In the end, Liam got lucky. His hand touched the handle of something: a knife. It was hanging from the man’s waist, inside a leather sheath. He pulled, the knife coming out, and before he even realized it he planted the weapon in the man’s neck, blade perpendicular to the jugular, cutting deep into his airways.

The man gurgled, blood already flowing to fill the empty space inside him since it couldn’t get out much because of the knife effectively blocking it in.

The man reached out towards it and tried to bat away Liam’s hand, wanting to get the extraneous body out of himself, but adrenaline was coursing through the boy’s veins and he managed to keep it in place even as the metal ‘gloves’ of the armor hit him and caused minor cuts.

The soldier was so out of his mind with fear that he completely forgot about his Skills, which would have turned the short encounter around in a moment, allowing him to kill the boy. He scrambled, but already his vision was going dark, his lungs full of blood. He coughed, but the blade in his larynx didn’t let much of the blood out.

Some still managed to end up on Liam’s face, but he was beyond caring as he pushed the knife even deeper, the blade stuck on the cartilage ever so slowly carving its way further back. A few more seconds and it would probably touch the spine.

Fortunately, that didn’t happen, since the man finally died, his dead body slumping over Liam. The boy immediately pushed it off, his shoulder making him hiss in pain again.

He could have done the intelligent thing and stayed where he was, covering himself with the soldier’s body, which would have surely hidden him from the other, distracted, soldiers. You didn’t exactly have much time to look under your feet when you were fighting for your life.

But, as stated before, Liam’s rational mind had been temporarily sent on a vacation, so he lifted himself from the ground and, after a moment’s thought, took the soldier’s sword. It wasn’t heavy. Anyone with a bit of education about medieval weaponry would tell you that swords were crafted to be as light as possible, so that anyone could use them. You had to fling a heavy weapon around pretty hard to hit someone, and that wasn’t a good idea on a battlefield packed with both enemies and allies.

So Liam took the sword in his hands, securing the knife on his belt, picked a random direction, and ran away, hoping to get out of wherever he was. The questions had stopped flowing in his mind, their place taken up by the natural instinct all living beings had to stay alive.

But then, Liam was a son of the twenty-first century, and the moment that thought crossed his mind, the song “Staying Alive” by the BGs began playing back in the background of his thoughts.

Now with a soundtrack, Liam ran, and he was lucky enough that, for the first minute, nobody seemed to notice his existence.

Then Lady Luck, being the bitch she was, which didn’t change from world to world, gave Liam a parting kiss and looked the other way, deciding to help someone else.

So Liam stumbled and practically shoulder charged a [Soldier]. The man felt the sudden impact, and him being a little less green than Liam’s last adversary, activated the Skill [Maintain Footing], which allowed him to stay on his feet even if the impact should have unbalanced him. He finished the man he’d been fighting against, then looked down, seeing Liam already scrambling away from him on the ground. He didn’t even question the situation, instead going for the free blow. One less enemy to worry about after all.

That’s when Luck decided that she liked Liam again, and made him trip again. As he fell, the boy felt the air moving at the nape of his neck, and realized he’d been this close to losing his head.

He scrambled to his feet and kept running, “Staying Alive”’s chorus playing in the background, and that was it for that fight. The [Soldier] just saw a boy run away, and didn’t think about pursuing him. He had to stay in line and, more or less, he was grateful, because that had gotten him a short breath of relief.

He turned back to the battlefield, looking for his best enemy as he chugged down a Stamina Potion. Energy filled him up, and he reminded himself not to overdo it, ‘less he wanted to poison himself.

Meanwhile Liam ran.

He was nearly at the edge of the battlefield. He was going to make it!

The joy was short-lived, because he was trampled by a running horse. He hadn’t studied medieval military strategies, hence he didn’t know that running towards the sides of an army led to the areas where the cavalry fought.

He fell to the ground, feeling his bones break under hundreds of newtons of force applied by the horse. His ribcage was nearly pulverized, sternum fractured and pressed against his somehow still beating and unperforated heart. Same went for his lugs. How lucky, am I right?

How lucky he felt, as his body burned in agony and he desired for it all to end, his life be damned. Somehow, he was still clinging to consciousness, because he knew that, if he closed his eyes and gave in to oblivion, he would die, and even if he wanted to he couldn’t bring himself to just do it! So, he lay there, on the ground, mud ruining his clothes, body bleeding from the inside, breathing ragged and painful.

And Lady Luck stared right at him, smiling mischievously, and took a physical form.

After what felt to Liam like days, the sounds of battle drowned out, a face appeared in his field of view. A woman. Or a man with long hair. His vision was blurred.

"Get him out of here!" she or he shouted.

Then she looked down at him, and whispered a Skill: [Reduce Pain].

Like a shot of morphine being injected in his veins, Liam felt a sensation of freshness wash over him, and the pain… didn’t disappear, but now instead of agony he felt a level of pain comparable to the moment you stab your toe against your furniture, only all over his body. Unpleasant, but definitely better.

He sighed.

And lost consciousness.

[Lucky Soldier Level 3!]

[Mage Crafter Level 1!]

[Skill – Lucky Dodge Obtained!]

[Skill – Luck Bank Obtained!]

[Skill – Object: Infuse Spell Obtained!]

[Skill – Lesser Proficiency: Crafting Obtained!]

[Spell – Miniaturize Obtained!]

[Conditions Met – Lesser Proficiency: Crafting -> Proficiency: Weapon Crafting!]

[Condition: Dreams Painted Red Contracted!]