Lucky Shot

When my mother won a million dollars from a lottery ticket, she prepared an envelope for each of her three children. After we opened them, my younger brother and younger sister each found a bank card inside. But from my envelope, two 1-dollar coins clinked onto the floor. Seeing me freeze, a trace of unease flickered across Mother's face. "Cassian," she said hesitantly, "Logan and Sienna suffered a lot growing up because your father passed away so early. So I gave each of them 500 thousand dollars as compensation. "You're the eldest son—like a father to them. Don't fight with them over this, okay?" I glanced down at the faded down jacket I had worn for years, the fabric so worn that it had lost its color. Then, my eyes drifted to my younger brother's limited-edition sneakers and to the designer bag slung over my sister's shoulder. Mother seemed to have forgotten that when Father died, I had only been eight. I smiled faintly. "Alright. I won't fight them for it." Hearing this, Mother let out a long breath of relief. The next second, my voice turned cold. "Then I won't fight for the responsibility of supporting you in your old age either."

Kael Draven died in the most ridiculous way possible, chasing fried chicken across the street. When he wakes up, he finds himself reborn in a world of magic and monsters. A second chance at life. A chance to become powerful. There is only one problem. His stats are completely useless. Strength: F Mana: F Speed: F And yet, one thing stands above everything else. Luck: SSS Spells fail, but enemies fall. Battles turn deadly, but somehow he survives. Treasures appear when he least expects them. To everyone else, Kael looks like a hidden genius. A monster in disguise. A mage far beyond comprehension. But the truth is much simpler. “I swear I didn’t do anything.” As misunderstandings grow and powerful enemies begin to take interest, Kael is dragged into conflicts far beyond his control. Because in a world ruled by power, destiny, and gods… His “luck” might be the most dangerous force of all.

After the real son, Asher Vale, was brought back, everything in our house became tied to drawing lots. The chef of the day, who would have to cook a particular person's preferred dishes, had to be decided by drawing lots. Even our parents' kisses and hugs were chosen the same way. I always drew the short stick. The long stick, by default, belonged to Asher. He never had to do anything to receive our parents' love. Whenever I felt it was unfair and wanted to cry, Mom would scold me sharply, "I bought the lot-drawing box because I was afraid you'd feel hurt. I wanted to be fair to both of you. If you want something, decide it yourselves. Your father and I won't interfere. If you can't draw the long stick, you can only blame your bad luck." So I began practicing every day, shaking the box diligently, over and over, in hopes that one day, it would help me earn my parents' love. Unfortunately, for ten years, I never once drew the long stick. Until my birthday. Asher wanted to go to the amusement park, and Mom once again told us to decide by drawing lots. I secretly glued the two short sticks together and handed them to Mom, hoping to keep her with me. She slapped me hard across the face, screaming that I was cheating and disobedient. Then she stormed out of the house with Asher. When I fell to the ground, the short stick stabbed deep into my neck. 'I'm sorry, Mom. Next time, I'll work harder. Next time, I'll definitely draw the long stick.'

Some people find fortune… while some people find a dying criminal on a random Tuesday. "Is this the part where you kill me?" she asks. “Don’t worry, sweetheart.” He traced her jaw with the blade of the knife. “I’m still mulling it over.” Clover lives a very unlucky life. Getting fired job after job, it’s hard to make ends meet. And as if fate is playing with her, she saves an unconscious man who ends up to be the most dangerous person in town: Phoenix Volkov, the rising don of the underground world. Bad luck got her helping the wrong stranger—worse luck got her accidentally kidnapping a mafia boss. Just like that, their lives became entangled in a mess of bullets and danger.

On the first day the real heir, Kyle Snider, reunites with the Snider family, he slashes his arm on purpose and frames me for doing it with red-rimmed eyes. My adoptive dad, Jeremy Snider, doesn't hesitate to slap me without even getting to the bottom of the incident. When I turn my head, I can see the fortune score above everyone's heads. The score above Jeremy reads, "Fortune score: 8%. In three days, his investment will implode, leaving him saddled with a ten-million-dollar debt." Then, I turn to look at Kyle, whose eyes are still reddened. He lowers his head afterward. "Surely Nathan didn't do this on purpose. Please don't cast him out. I'm fine suffering from a little grievance…" Meanwhile, Jeremy, who used to view me as the apple of his eye, has nothing but disdain toward me. "You've stolen 20 years of Kyle's life, and yet you have the guts to slash him with a blade? Just how vile are you, Nathan?" As for Lilian Snider, my older sister who used to dote on me the most, throws my suitcase out of the front door. She roars at me, "Get lost right now! Ingrates like you don't deserve to stay here!" I don't say anything. Instead, I just look at the row of words floating above Lilian's head quietly. "Fortune score: 5%. In two hours, she will get caught in a multi-vehicle collision, leading to her legs getting amputated." I caress my cheek, which has gone numb from Jeremy's slap. Then, I slowly rip up the protective charms I've just gotten for them into pieces. After that, I pick up my suitcase. "Fine. I'm leaving." As soon as the front door is closed, I see the number above Kyle's head flickering once. "Fortune score: 85%. In the middle of absorbing the Sniders' fortune luck."

This guy could offer me the moon, and I’d hand it right back. Never in a million years did I expect to run into the biggest crush of my childhood. But, of course, I have. And I’m reporting to him at the new company I landed a big-time job at. Arrogant. Hot as hell. Total jackass. Why he’s still single is no mystery to me. He’s not willing to settle down. He’s always been that way, and as far as I’m concerned, he always will be. But, boy, is he beautiful to look at. Every part of me screams "run" as my insides turn to mush. No. Not me too… Not again. I should be immune by now. I know him far too well to fall into this hopeless pit of adoration again. But maybe there’s a way around it. It’s his power that drives me over the edge of insanity. If I were the boss instead of him, I’d hold all the cards. Good thing I’m always up for a challenge. Funnily enough, this guy thinks he’s going to score. He might have to redefine what getting lucky looks like after me. At least, that’s the plan.