It was 3:47 a.m. when Liam Kade realized he had nothing left.
Not a dollar. Not a friend. Not even a memory worth holding onto.
The buzz of flickering lights overhead echoed in the basement like some dying insect trapped inside a wine bottle. The walls, stained with nicotine and regret, leaned in like they wanted to crush him. Around him, the laughter of broken men bounced off the cracked concrete — the kind of laughter that didn't come from joy, just pain that had nowhere else to go.
Liam sat slumped in a folding chair in the corner of the gambling pit, elbows on his knees, a bottle of half-warm vodka cradled like a newborn between his boots. His breath reeked of cheap liquor and stale cigarettes. His eyes were bloodshot. His hoodie was three days old, and the crusted blood on his knuckles was still flaking.
He hadn't won a bet in six days. He hadn't eaten in three.
And yet, somehow, he was still here.
Still losing.
Earlier That Night"Last hand, Kade," Marv muttered from across the table, voice like gravel dragged across rusted metal.
Liam didn't look up. His fingers shook as he placed his final $20 on the table — the last of his rent money. He was already $12,000 in debt, not that numbers meant anything anymore.
The poker table was a mess of cigarettes, beer cans, and half-spilled ashtrays. Across from him sat three men: Tony the Rat, Big Al, and Knox. Each one wore a look of contempt, the kind only seasoned losers-turned-predators had perfected.
Marv flipped the cards.
Liam looked down.
Two of clubs. Six of hearts.
Trash.
He didn't even blink.
"I call," he said.
The others snickered. Big Al tossed in his chips like a man throwing dirt onto a coffin.
When the final card landed — a jack of spades — it was over. Knox had a straight. Liam had nothing.
Not even a bluff left in him.
"God damn," Tony the Rat laughed. "You really are cursed, huh?"
Liam said nothing. Just stared at the table like it might collapse and swallow him whole. That would've been a mercy.
Beaten and Bleeding"You said you'd have my payment," a voice hissed near his ear.
Liam turned too slowly. A sharp fist caught him in the side of the face.
Pain exploded across his jaw as he hit the floor. Two of Marv's regulars — twin muscleheads with necks like tree trunks — kicked him in the ribs and dragged him out into the alley.
Concrete tore his hoodie. His breath came in gasps.
"Two weeks late, you piece of s***. You owe Rico three grand. He's done waiting."
They left him there. Bleeding. Spitting teeth into a puddle. Behind him, the door slammed shut.
He lay on his back staring up at the hazy New York sky, where the stars were too ashamed to shine.
A wet cough escaped his chest.
"…Three grand," he whispered. "What a joke."
Flashback: Just One Year AgoHe'd been in college once. Majoring in statistics. A scholarship kid. Quiet, smart, analytical. The kind of mind that could see patterns before they even existed.
He should've been a Wall Street wizard.
Instead, a poker game in his freshman year dorm changed everything. He'd won big — five grand in a night. Felt like a god.
He dropped out two semesters later. Started chasing that high.
Never found it again.
Back in the AlleyLiam sat up slowly. His ribs burned. His face ached.
But it wasn't pain that got him moving — it was the silence.
The kind of silence that wrapped around you and made you feel like the world had finally stopped caring.
He pulled out a beat-up coin from his pocket. A dented half-dollar from 1981. He didn't remember where he got it — just knew he always had it on him. Like a cursed charm.
"Alright," he murmured. "Let's settle this."
He flipped it into the air.
Heads, I crawl home and try again tomorrow.
Tails… I step in front of the train.
The coin spun.
Hung in the air like it didn't want to fall.
That's when it happened.
System Activation[SYSTEM INITIALIZING...]
Liam froze. The world dimmed. Not like night — but like someone had drawn the curtains on reality.
A series of golden letters burned into the air in front of him, hovering above the concrete like a hallucination.
Welcome, Liam Kade.
User Classification: Hopeless.
Probability System Candidate Detected.
"What the f—"
You have been chosen by the PROBABILITY CORE.
Chance is no longer random.
Probability is no longer theory.
You may now bend odds to your will.
Do you accept?
[YES] — [NO]
Liam blinked rapidly. Blood dripped down his cheek.
"This isn't real."
The words flickered. Waited.
"I'm drunk. Bleeding. Hallucinating."
The coin still hadn't landed. It just hovered there — spinning, shining — frozen in the air like time had forgotten it.
He reached out, trembling, and touched the [YES].
The coin dropped instantly. Landed.
On its edge.
Balanced. Perfectly upright.
Liam stared at it.
Then at the text.
[PROBABILITY SYSTEM INSTALLED]
Basic Skill Unlocked: "Edge Tilt" — Shift the outcome of any one event slightly in your favor. Cooldown: 24 hrs.
Luck Modifier: +0.01%
WARNING: SYSTEM ENERGY IS LOW. FUTURE UPGRADES REQUIRE USER INFLUENCE.
DisbeliefHe sat there in the alley for what felt like hours, staring at the coin on its edge.
Not heads. Not tails. Just... probability denying gravity.
His brain buzzed. His fingers were cold. His mouth dry.
"What the hell is this?" he whispered.
No one answered. The system didn't speak again.
The neon buzz returned. The wind howled faintly in the distance.
But something inside Liam shifted.
The First TestHe stumbled out of the alley, limping back into Marv's bar, eyes bloodshot and swollen shut on one side.
"You back for another beating?" Marv sneered.
Liam said nothing. He reached into his sock and pulled out a crumpled five-dollar bill. His last dollar.
"I want to bet on tonight's game."
Lakers vs. Suns. Tip-off in 30 minutes.
Everyone knew the Suns were hot. Lakers were missing three starters.
"Odds?" Liam asked.
Marv smirked. "Lakers win? 20 to 1."
Liam dropped the five.
"One bet."
Marv laughed, took the bill, marked it. "Sure. Watch you lose again."
MidnightThe Suns were up by 18 points. Two minutes left in the fourth.
Liam just stared at the screen. His ribs ached. Blood still dried on his chin. The pain reminded him it was real.
And yet…
He whispered under his breath.
"Edge Tilt."
Nothing changed.
For a minute.
Then a Lakers sub hit a wild three.
Next play — Suns inbounder slipped. Turnover. Another bucket.
Then another.
Liam didn't blink.
The final 8 seconds were chaos. A missed free throw. Rebound. Full-court pass. Off-balance shot.
Buzzer.
Lakers win by 1.
Marv's mouth hung open.
"That… that wasn't supposed to happen."
Liam stood, slow and cracked like an old machine rebooting. He held out his hand.
"Hundred bucks."
Marv handed it over.
Liam didn't smile.
He just turned and walked out.
The night air hit his face like cold steel.
Behind his broken lips, a whisper formed.
"…It wasn't luck."