The prince's smile was the kind that could buy worship or start wars.Kairoth lounged at the head of the table, a half-drained goblet dangling from his fingers, golden eyes glinting with something far too intelligent for my comfort.
I sat opposite him, pretending that the wine didn't taste like distilled fear.
"You've been busy, Director Arvale," he said lightly, swirling his drink. "The council still argues about you. Half of them want you dead; the other half want you as an ally. I, however…" He paused, smirked. "I prefer to make my own judgment."
The Ledger pulsed at my wrist.[ Threat Level: 82%. Recommend: cautious sarcasm. ]
I took a slow sip, praying the wine didn't double as poison. "Always best to see things yourself, Your Highness."
"Indeed." Kairoth leaned back. "And what do you see, Director?"
I blinked. "I—uh—see that you're asking dangerous questions before dessert?"
Grack snorted beside me, earning a sharp glance from a dozen nobles lined along the walls. They stood like decorations, their jeweled eyes tracking every movement.
Kairoth chuckled. "You're bold. I appreciate bold men. They live short lives, but interesting ones."
Short lives. Wonderful.
He clapped once. A servant hurried forward, placing a small obsidian box on the table. Its surface shimmered with runes, the air around it faintly distorted.
"Tell me," Kairoth said softly, "have you ever gambled with reality itself?"
My heart sank. "Not intentionally."
He opened the box. Inside lay a single black coin, etched with glowing red veins that pulsed like a heartbeat.
"Void Coin," the prince said. "A relic of the old kings. Flip it, and the world listens. One side grants fortune, the other misfortune. No one knows which is which until the toss is made."
The Ledger trembled violently.[ Warning: Temporal anomaly detected. Probability collapse artifact confirmed. Recommendation: decline immediately. ]
Decline? Sure. Let me just say no to the prince in his own palace.
Kairoth smiled. "Shall we wager, Director? If fortune favors you, you leave with my respect. If not… well, I'll still respect you. Posthumously."
He tossed the coin once, caught it, and held it out to me. "Your flip."
I stared at the thing like it was a ticking bomb. Maybe it was.
"Is there," I said carefully, "a third option that involves dinner and not dying?"
Kairoth grinned wider. "None worth mentioning."
Lira shifted behind me, her voice a whisper only I could hear. "You could refuse politely. Say it's beneath your station."
The Ledger disagreed.[ Current Reputation: The Silent Gambler. Refusal would cause irreparable mythic dissonance. ]
Of course. My fake reputation now had rules of its own.
I sighed. "Fine. But if I explode, I'm haunting you."
Kairoth laughed and gestured magnanimously. "By all means."
The room went still. I reached for the coin, its surface unnaturally cold, like touching the shadow of ice.
The Ledger pulsed again.[ Alternate Solution Available: Convert Risk → Chaos Credits. 3 000 Soul Points required. ]
Three thousand? That was almost everything I'd hoarded since the last assassination attempt. But I liked existing.
"Transaction confirmed," I muttered under my breath.
The moment the Chaos Ledger accepted the payment, the air thickened. The coin pulsed brighter, and the space around it twisted faintly—like the universe blinked.
I flipped it.
The coin spun in the air, slower, slower, until it hung mid-spin. Frozen.
Everyone watched. Even Kairoth's smirk faltered.
Then the coin shattered into a shower of silver dust.
The lights flickered. The temperature dropped. Somewhere, thunder cracked.
[ Transaction Complete. Outcome: Paradox. Both fortune and misfortune triggered. ]
Perfect. That sounded safe.
A heartbeat later, the chandelier above us groaned and snapped loose. It should have crushed me. Instead, one of the nobles leapt forward, trying to save his prince, slipped on spilled wine, and slammed into Kairoth's chair. The chair tipped, sending the prince backward—straight out of the falling chandelier's path.
The entire table erupted in chaos.
When the dust cleared, I stood untouched, a glowing sphere of Chaos energy fading around me. Kairoth rose, unscathed, staring at the wreckage.
Silence.
Then—he started laughing.
Not polite court laughter. Real, sharp, delighted laughter.
"Magnificent!" he said. "A perfect gamble! You saved me and destroyed my hall in one move. Truly, Director Arvale, fortune adores you."
Fortune adores me? I almost died from light fixtures!
The Ledger chimed smugly.[ Reputation Increased: "The Paradox Gambler." Mythic weight +12%. ]
Mythic weight. Great. I was now officially heavier in lies.
Kairoth clapped me on the shoulder, his grip strong enough to crack bone. "I knew I was right about you. Join me, Director. Serve under my banner in the coming succession. I could use someone who bends fate to his whim."
I smiled weakly. "I mostly bend spoons, but sure, let's talk terms."
He grinned, satisfied, and turned to his trembling nobles. "See? Even destiny laughs when Arvale flips a coin!"
The cheer that followed sounded half-forced, half-terrified.
I managed a shallow bow, then slipped away as soon as possible. Lira and Grack followed, their faces unreadable until we stepped outside.
Grack finally burst out laughing. "You absolute lunatic! You broke a Void Coin! Do you have any idea what that means?"
"Yes," I said flatly. "It means I'm banned from every chandelier in the realm."
Lira smirked, folding her arms. "You just turned a death trap into an alliance. The prince believes you're fate's chosen gambler now. Do you ever not stumble into legend?"
"I try," I muttered, "but legend keeps tripping over me."
We returned to the Directorate under a sky split by lightning. My office door was already surrounded by whispering aides and trembling messengers.
They straightened instantly when they saw me.
"Director Arvale! The news from the palace—did you really face the prince's Void Coin?"
"Is it true the coin itself bowed to you?"
"Are you secretly part of the royal prophecy?"
I raised a hand. "Please. I'm tired, and I think I inhaled bits of chandelier."
But it was useless. Their eyes sparkled with reverence and fear. The myth had grown again, fed by coincidence and misunderstanding.
The Ledger chimed softly.[ Passive Authority Gained: "Luck Tax." Nearby entities subconsciously offer wealth in exchange for perceived protection. ]
…Wait, what?
As I walked past them, several demons hurriedly pressed offerings onto my desk—coins, jewels, even promissory notes. One mumbled, "For your continued blessings, Director."
I stared at the pile.
Grack whistled low. "Well, congratulations. You're officially a church now."
Lira sighed. "At least your chaos pays."
I rubbed my temples. "I didn't ask for followers. I asked for peace."
The Ledger buzzed almost affectionately.[ Peace is inefficient. Profit is eternal. ]
That night, I sat by the window, the glow of Demon City stretching below like a carpet of molten gold.
In the reflection of the glass, the coin's dust still shimmered faintly around my wrist, absorbed into the Ledger's runes.
Kairoth had called it a game. Maybe he was right.
But I was starting to suspect this wasn't a game I was meant to win.
By morning, my office looked like a temple had exploded inside it.
Gold coins glittered on every flat surface. Boxes of offerings—perfume, gemstones, enchanted relics, even cakes—covered my desk. Demons I'd never met before knelt at the entrance, whispering prayers that sounded suspiciously like investment proposals.
I hadn't slept. I'd just sat there, staring at the mountain of wealth and wondering how the hell "don't die" had turned into "accidentally start a religion."
The Ledger hummed softly, satisfied.[ Wealth flow detected. Calculating interest. Estimated gain: 18 430 Chaos Credits. ]
"Ledger," I muttered, rubbing my eyes, "remind me again—why do I keep earning money every time I nearly die?"
[ Cause: efficient risk conversion. You are statistically profitable. ]
Profitable. Right. I was apparently a financial disaster in reverse.
Grack kicked open the door, holding a fried pastry in one hand and a stack of reports in the other. "Morning, Director Prophet."
I groaned. "Please don't call me that."
"Too late," he said cheerfully. "Half the Directorate staff started a betting pool. They think you'll ascend to 'Demon of Fortune' by the end of the month."
Lira walked in behind him, elegant as always, though her lips twitched with amusement. "The other half believes you already are one."
"Wonderful," I muttered. "Maybe I should start charging temple fees."
The Ledger chimed.[ Suggestion accepted. New passive: "Faith Conversion." 10% of belief converted to Chaos Credits. ]
I froze. "I wasn't serious."
[ Profit doesn't care about intent. ]
Lira raised an eyebrow. "Did the book just… monetize worship?"
I slumped in my chair. "Yes. And it didn't even ask for a business license."
By noon, three nobles had sent invitations. Two were requests for meetings; one was a formal challenge.
The challenge came sealed in violet wax—Kairoth's color.
Lira read the scroll aloud. "His Highness requests a demonstration of your 'luck mastery' at the Royal Arena. Public attendance mandatory."
My stomach dropped. "Mandatory? I just survived one dinner! Why are they scheduling my funeral already?"
Grack smirked. "Look on the bright side. When you die, the betting pool will pay out."
"Grack," I said, "if I die, I'm haunting you specifically."
The Ledger pulsed.[ Event Confirmed: "Royal Arena Exhibition." Participants: 4. Objective: Survive. Reward: Variable. Danger: Catastrophic. ]
"Of course it's catastrophic," I muttered.
Lira placed a hand on my shoulder. "This is an opportunity, Rayan. Survive this, and your influence doubles. Fail, and… well, at least you'll have a legacy."
"Comforting," I said dryly. "Fine. Let's gamble again."
The Royal Arena was vast—an open coliseum carved from black obsidian, glowing with crimson runes. Thousands of demons packed the stands, roaring with anticipation.
Floating banners projected my name in giant fiery letters:DIRECTOR RAYAN ARVALE — THE PARADOX GAMBLER
I stared up at the sign, horrified. "Why does it sound like a circus act?"
Kairoth stood on a balcony high above, his golden eyes gleaming with amusement. "Director! Let's entertain the realm!"
He gestured, and four pillars of light burst across the arena floor. From each, a challenger emerged—demonic champions, each radiating enough power to melt a fortress.
A mage. A berserker. A shadow assassin. And, because fate hated me, a summoner riding a wyvern made of bone.
The crowd went wild.
Grack whispered behind me. "At least they didn't send royalty."
The Ledger pulsed coldly.[ Correction: fourth challenger identified as royal proxy. Power level: fatal. ]
"Perfect," I muttered. "Fatal is just my favorite level."
The announcer's voice boomed. "Begin!"
The mage moved first, summoning a vortex of molten stone. The assassin vanished in shadow. The berserker charged, roaring loud enough to shake dust from the seats.
I had exactly half a second to live.
The Ledger flared.[ Emergency Protocol: Chaos Dividend. Convert 10 000 Chaos Credits → Temporal Debt Shield. Activate? ]
"Do it!" I yelled.
The world slowed. The air turned syrup-thick. Flames froze midair.
In that stretched eternity, I saw everything—the assassin's shadow forming behind me, the berserker's axe descending, the mage's spell locking space.
And I saw opportunity.
[ Directive Suggestion: Redirect attack trajectory → mutual interference. ]
I shifted one step. Just one.
Time snapped back.
The berserker's axe collided with the assassin's blade, both redirected by my movement. The mage's firestorm crashed into them, detonating in a blinding explosion. The arena floor split open, swallowing the wyvern and half the crowd's front row in a storm of debris.
When the smoke cleared, I stood in the center, untouched, dust swirling lazily around me.
Silence.
Then, chaos.
The stands erupted in cheers. The announcer screamed, "Unbelievable! All four challengers defeated by a single step!"
I blinked. "Wait, they're all—?"
Grack shouted from the stands, "All down, boss! You did it again!"
Lira facepalmed. "Of course he did."
The Ledger purred.[ Victory registered. Profit margin: 127%. Reputation +15%. New Title: "Demon of Paradox." ]
Kairoth's laughter echoed through the arena, proud and dangerous. "Magnificent, Director Arvale! You truly are chaos itself!"
I tried to wave modestly, but my hand shook. The shield flickered out; I nearly collapsed. Lira appeared at my side, supporting me as the crowd continued to roar.
"Smile," she whispered. "They're watching."
I forced a grin that probably looked like a death spasm.
Later, in the royal antechamber, Kairoth poured me wine personally. "I must admit, Director," he said, eyes glinting, "I invited you expecting clever tricks—not miracles. How did you turn four elite warriors against themselves?"
"Talent," I said weakly. "And poor life choices."
He laughed, deep and genuine. "You're wasted on the Directorate. When I ascend, you'll stand beside me."
The Ledger flickered.[ Alliance Offer Detected: "Prince Kairoth's Succession Path." Accept? Decline? Delay? ]
Delay. Always delay.
"Your Highness," I said carefully, "I'm honored. But power earned too quickly attracts ruin. Let me serve better from the shadows."
Kairoth studied me for a moment—then nodded, smiling knowingly. "Wise. You play the long game. I admire that."
No, I just didn't want to die.
That night, I returned to my quarters, collapsing into bed as thunder rolled outside.
My hands still shook. The Ledger hummed faintly, its pages glowing in the dark.
[ Survival confirmed. Profit acquired. Influence growth exponential. Next probability challenge unlocked. ]
"Next?" I groaned. "Can I get a day off first?"
[ Denied. Chaos never sleeps. ]
I stared at the ceiling. "One day, Ledger, you and I are going to have a long talk about work-life balance."
It pulsed once—like a chuckle.
Then the lights dimmed, and the city below shimmered like a sea of coins. Somewhere out there, the royal game had begun in earnest—and my name was now one of its highest bets.