Bad Luck

A guffaw erupted across the room, raw and raucous.

"Ha-ha-ha! Momo, you little crap! You've been tagging along all this while and suddenly say you can tell fortunes! So, our saving you was foreseen too, was it? Ha-ha-ha!"

The young man's voice echoed, filled with mirth and mockery.

The speaker was a ranger, clad in light leather armor, with a pair of short swords hanging loosely from his belt.

His laughter was infectious, spreading throughout the crowd. The patrons around, mercenaries and villagers alike, shook their heads, chuckling into their ale, the young man named Momo had just presented them with a good punchline of the night.

"I really can."

Momo retorted, the edge of frustration in his voice almost drowned by the collective chuckles. He was visibly flustered, his face flushed a deep red.

Upstairs, Alex merely shook his head, chewing on a piece of bread.

He reflected on the world they inhabited – a world bereft of divine intervention since the gods turned their backs on humanity 200 years ago. In this void, predictive sciences had become highly respected practices and recognized paths to ascend to godhood, irrespective of one's class.

If Momo was indeed a human, and not a millennia-old beast in human form or an elf got lost, his claim to predict fortunes was akin to publicly declaring:

"I'm a billionaire, but I just can't show you the money right now."

It wasn't impossible, merely improbable. Just like Alex's musings that Momo might not be human...

However, the actions of a similarly dressed young woman about Momo's age quickly dispelled that notion.

While Momo speaking, She was stealing.

In broad light, under the noses of everyone, including the bartender.

Only Alex, from the second floor, had the full view of their petty thievery.

A smile tugged at Alex's mouth.

He was about to share this amusing thing with Wendy, only to find her already fast asleep, resting her head on the table.

Then, Alex just drained the last drop of his milk ale, and turned his attention back to the unfolding drama.

"Momo, is it? Can you really tell fortunes?"

The voice was soft, sugary, almost cooing. That waitress had pushed her way through the crowd, her sparkling eyes wide with curiosity. She leaned in, her large breast threatening to smother the young man.

"I really can, no lies."

Momo stuttered, his face reddening even more, providing the audience with another round of laughter.

"Then, can you read mine?"

The waitress was genuinely curious. The topic about future held an irresistible allure, especially for someone like her, stuck in this border town, destined to perhaps never leave.

"Tell me where I'll end up?" she asked, a sweet smile playing on her lips.

"Okay, but I need you guys be quite for a min."

Momo rummaged through his clothes, pulling out a dark orb wrapped in a silken cloth. He held it up like a trophy, presenting it to the crowd before unraveling the string and laying it on the table.

It revealed an empty turtle shell and, quite astonishingly, three gold coins.

The entire tavern seemed to hold its breath.

A border town. A young boy. Three gold coins.

The ranger who had been laughing at Momo moments ago was now on his feet, walking towards him. His slender fingers rested on the hilt of his dagger, eyes wary.

"Alright, Momo," he said, his voice much more serious.

"I'm now quite sure that you're a young lord who's run away from some noble family in the capital. But the escort fee you paid, it wasn't meant for this kind of show. An entire mercenary group wouldn't earn ten coins for a single mission."

As he rose, so did the rest of his mercenary band. It was clear now, they were assigned to protect this seemingly ordinary boy, Momo.

"Sorry, sorry, sir ranger!"

Momo's voice wavered, his expression turned anxious, as if he regretted his impulsive actions. He stuttered, apologizing profusely, but Alex, from his perch upstairs, knew it was all an act.

As the crowd's attention was on Momo, the young woman behind them turned even more audacious in her theft. She was now swiping trinkets, coins, even contracts and basic mercenary gear, her hands moving swiftly and stealthily.

Alex raised an eyebrow at this.

He wasn't surprised by the three gold coins, although he knew that in a place like this, such wealth could cause somthing, especially when it appeared in the hands of a young boy.

What he was more interested was how these two would manage to pull themselves out of this.

Finally, when the girl flashed an 'ok' sign, Momo drew in a deep breath, ready to speak again.

The gritty vibe of the tavern seemed to pause, awaiting his words.

"Everyone, you can sit down now. These gold coins are mere fakes, gilded for a special ritual. They're not even worth as much as the silver coins in your pocket!"

As he spoke, he pinched one of the so-called 'gold coins', roughly scratching it against the edge of a tortoise shell. As expected, a dark streak marred the golden surface.

Seeing this, a sigh of relief passed through the rangers standing behind Momo.

With a subtle shift of stance, they encouraged the patrons to sit back down. Though the tavern's atmosphere crossed a hint of awkwardness, this little scene seemed to have sobered everyone up. Their previously drunken attentions now honed in on the young boy's performance.

At least, he appeared quite professional with his stuffs, didn't he?

"Can you tell me your birthday, please?"

Momo suddenly sounded all business-like. He slipped three coins into the tortoise shell, adding:

"Better precise to the time."

"Morning born, 18th of June, 27th Year of Reven's Reign."

"Ok...and... you are now 23 years old, which means you were born in the 220th Year of the Era of Unity..."

The boy listened to her response, a playful smile tugging at his lips as he shook the tortoise shell lightly.

"Ah, such good math! Are you...are you really, a noble from the capital?"

The waitress's voice held a touch of awe, visibly inching closer to the boy.

The onlookers' eyes widened at the exchange, their faces breaking into more approving smiles.

Mathematics, knowledge, even magic – these were luxuries only the nobility could afford. In the harsh Northlands, such knowledge was usually limited to the tall tales of 'I have a relative in the capital.' After all, everyone knew that even a single magic lesson at the mage academy could drain several gold coins.

Such luxuries were beyond their wildest dreams. As for hiring a mage?

Most among them had spent over 20 years on border missions, and yet, had never once worked with a genuinely esteemed mage.

At this moment, a discordant laughter echoed from a group of mercenaries.

"Ha, just because you can do some simple math, you dare to pose as a diviner? Lucky you're at the border, if you were in the capital, you'd have been executed as a heretic by now!"

The speaker was a heavily armored warrior. He sighed heavily, seemingly bored, and pulled out a whetstone to sharpen his blade.

The grating noise of the whetstone didn't bother the other mercenaries in the tavern, but it did make Momo frown. It was clear that he was not happy being disturbed during his divination.

It threw off his concentration.

Seeing Momo's worsening expression, the waitress's voice softened to a whisper, almost a breathy murmur against his ear.

"Don't be upset. I just want to know my fortune. If it helps, I can give you a silver and more..." As she spoke, she retrieved a silver coin from her cleavage, tracing it teasingly across Momo's abdomen.

The coin felt hard yet soft, cold yet strangely warm.

"Close your eyes and think about what you want to know."

Momo gritted his teeth, passing the tortoise shell to the waitress' face, even closing his eyes a step ahead of her.

Seeing his bashful reaction, the serving girl couldn't help but chuckle. Then, with lips the color of a blooming rose, she planted a soft kiss on the tortoise shell.

"Ok, let's see...what happens next!"

Just then, the sound of sharpening became louder, destroying the intimate atmosphere and stirring the patrons into irritation.

Momo glanced at the warrior, who was sharpening a short, thin dagger with more force than necessary. It was as if he was intentionally trying to annoy Momo, such harsh treatment would undoubtedly wear down the blade.

Momo shook his head, refocusing his attention away from the warrior.

He took a deep breath, watching as the three coins tumbled out of the tortoise shell.

*Clank, Clank*

The crisp sound of the coins resonated, halting on the wooden table. Instead of looking at them, Momo closed his eyes, his lips moving in an unfamiliar spell.

"Humph! Little scamming vermin," sneered the warrior, utterly disdainful.

Momo's murmured spels was incomprehensible to anyone present. But as he muttered faster and faster, his face drained of color, cold beads of sweat trickling down his forehead. In the chill of the northern lands, it was like he had taken a full bath, soaked in sweat.

Suddenly, his eyes snapped open, urgency lining his voice.

"Quick, what were you thinking just now?!"

The waitress girl was taken aback.

"Ah...I was just wondering about my future luck. It was quite general. What's the matter?"

Hearing the word 'general', Momo's face became visibly paler. He turned quickly to the rangers behind him:

"Guard her! Now! I'll pay more!"

"Hey, stop it! Can't you just admit you're a clown here to entertain us? I can't stand your fking high-and-mighty noble act. Now you start saying some bad luck to make it real?"

"Quick! Protect her, or we all..."

"I refuse to believe! In a tavern full of mercenaries, are we to let this woman die? Hahaha..."

The warrior continued to jeer at Momo, sharpening his blade even faster, the sound grating on Momo's nerves.

"Just fking Stop!"

Momo shouted.

Just then, the blade the warrior was sharpening let out a sharp crack. The dagger broke in two, severing three of his fingers and flying across the room.

"Ah!"

The serving girl shrieked, clutching her stomach as she slowly sank to the floor.

"Help! Someone help!"

"Captain, where's the medicine?"

"She's losing consciousness!"

The tavern erupted into chaos now.