"R.O.B. or not, nobody hands out favours from the kindness of their heart, so what's the catch?"
"If you want to reroll, you gotta gamble for it. Welcome to the high-stakes table, or as I like to call it, Curse Gacha." RNGesus snapped his fingers and the wheel transformed. Cheerful colors bled into ominous reds and blacks, like watching a carnival ride turn into something from a horror movie. New labels appeared, ranked 1 through 20. "Roll or a curse and get a better ticket. Severity determines reward. Fair trade isn't it? Equal exchange. The worse the curse, the better the reward, and most importantly, better entertainment for us."
I studied the wheel. Low-severity curses barely registered as inconveniences, but high-severity? Those could be fatal.
The void watched. The ROB waited. And I felt that pull again.
This was it. This was that moment where everything was on the line, just like in Viktor's warehouse.
"My mom always called me a curse upon the family. This seems fitting," I said, trying to poke humour at the situation.
RNGesus leaned forward. "But here's the thing, kid. Some curses will kill you before you even land, some will make you wish you'd died in that warehouse. Some will follow you forever, make your life a living hell. Remember this the choices you make now and later will always follow you as consequences."
I thought about Viktor's warehouse, about the gun, about pulling that trigger on fifty-fifty odds and losing. About my entire life being a series of bad bets that I kept doubling down on.
"I'm already dead," I said. "What's there to lose? My dignity? Already lost that. My life? Already gone. Fuck it, let's Gamba."
The Pachinko Parlour erupted with lights and alarms from multiple sources. The ROBs were enjoying this, and I got the feeling I'd just made their night.
"Oh, you're perfect," RNGesus said. "Alright. Spin the Curse Wheel. Let's see if your luck holds or if it runs out the same way it did in that warehouse."
I nodded. Right. So I needed to manage the risk. Don't bet the whole stack on one hand when you're already down.
I spun for middle severity, aimed for that sweet spot between reward and survivability. Severity 8-12 range seemed reasonable.
The wheel spun, ticked past horrors I couldn't quite read, slowed around and finally stopped.
[Neat Freak]
|Minor Curse|
You are bound by compulsion to be neat, making you very uncomfortable when you are dirty and slightly decreasing your energy recovery and output when you are dirty.
|Resolve: Achieve Adept level Discipline or a trait that increases your mental resiliance.|
Reward: 1x Gold Random Gacha Ticket
Low severity. Way lower than I'd been worried about, but I wasn't complaining. Manageable handicap - I'd just need to keep clean, which honestly wasn't the worst curse I could've gotten.
Plus, the gold ticket was too juicy to ignore.
I tore the ticket immediately, and that familiar rush of anticipation hit.
[Polymerization]
|Elite Ability|
Allows you to temporarily fuse your familiars together or with yourself. The stronger familiars you fuse together with yourself or between them, the higher the energy cost. Keeping two entities fused together drain energy over time.
My hands twitched as I saw two swirling tattoos on my wrists that reminded me of the famous Yu-Gi-Oh card, with fusion energy surging between them.
My mind raced as I saw a synergy between my pulls. "Fusion ability. Holy shit, this combines with Call to Arms. I summon familiars with that, merge them together with this for temporary power spikes, or fuse with them myself for short-term boosts. This is... this has so much potential." I looked at RNGesus with a cocky smile. "I can just be Ben 10 with Familiars instead of Aliens."
"Is that so? Looks like I'm rubbing off on you," RNGesus said, watching me with approval.
"One more Round!" I cheered, riding that high.
[Four Eyes]
|Minor Curse|
You have naturally bad eyesight, causing you to need glasses to be able to see properly. Thankfully, the curse comes with a single pair of prescription glasses.
|Resolve: Get your eyes fixed by either someone with at least Adept level Medicine or a Biokinetic ability, or heal your condition through magical means.|
Reward: 1x Gold Random Gacha Ticket
"Ah, this is what I'm fucking talking about," I cheered as I felt my eyesight go fuzzy, and soon I was barely able to see things clearly as everything around me was blurry, but fortunately, a pair of glasses materialised in my hand, which I was quick to wear.
"Ahh, this is perfect." As I tore the golden ticket.
[Minimap]
|Uncommon Ability|
You have a minimap in the corner of your vision that automatically maps where you go, and reveals the location of enemies in places you have seen as long as you know they are hostile to you. You can enlarge and zoom the minimap as you like.
My blurry eyes suddenly shot with an itch as a game-like minimap appeared in the corner of my eyesight.
As I got accustomed to having a map 24x7 on my view, even if I close my eyes, I mutter after thinking thoughtfully " Hmm, Not bad…not bad at all."
"Now, little gambler, the question is, do you push your luck? You've got a decent foundation. Could stop here, honestly. Play it safe for once in your life."
I examined my loadout. Call to Arms for summoning. Polymerization for fusion. Chaos Response for defence against mental intrusion. MiniMap for scouting. Modified Compound V for one random permanent ability that didn't eat a slot.
I definitely had a Solid foundation. Not great, but solid enugh. But in a world with Viltrumites who could punch through planets?
I knew I was getting cocky. Feeling that old familiar pull, that itch in my head that had destroyed everything. The one that said 'one more hand, one more bet, just one more and you'll hit big.' The one that had ruined my life the first time.
But fuck it. I was already dead, wasn't I?
I spun the Curse Wheel again.
The Parlour rolled its lights in frenzy as if sensing something coming. The ROB leaned in, and I could feel their attention like physical weight.
The wheel spun. I watched it blur past low severities - 1, 2, 3, 4, 5 - past middle range - 8, 9, 10, 11 - into high range - 13, 14, 15. My nonexistent heart pounded heavily.
It finally slowed.
Ticked past 15.
16.
17.
Stopped on 18.
[Mortal Enemy]
|Severe Curse|
Someone REALLY strong is REALLY mad at you. The moment you awaken in your world, someone at least Epic Familiar in strength or a target closest to that level is going to be imbued with absolute hatred towards you and will stop at nothing to tear you apart.
|Resolve: Kill or neutralise your mortal enemy.|
Reward: 1x Platinum Random Gacha Ticket
The Parlour exploded with red alarm lights, and I felt my stomach drop through infinite layers of reality.
"SEVERITY EIGHTEEN!" RNGesus howled as his screen rolled three skulls simultaneously. "Kid, you magnificent idiot! You just painted a goddamn target on your back before you even touch down! Someone super strong's gonna wake up tomorrow with an inexplicable, overwhelming urge to murder you specifically, and you won't even know how and why! They'll just want you DEAD!"
I felt ice in my nonexistent veins. Epic level strength in Invincible meant... fuck. Omni-Man. Battle Beast. Conquest. Any of them could turn me into red mist without even trying.
One punch. That's all it would take.
"Fuck on shit sticks," I said quietly. "I really fucked up this time. Alright, I'm calling it a night. No more Curses!"
"You went all in on a garbage hand!" RNGesus was actually crying with laughter now, like this was the funniest thing he'd seen in a long time. "It's BEAUTIFUL! The ROBs are LOVING this! The betting pool just tripled! And no need to worry, mortal, the curse roll is always available if you're ever in the Gambling mood. "
I stared at the Platinum ticket floating in front of me. My mind raced. A strong enemy hunting me from day one. I'd need every single advantage I could get just to survive the first week.
My hand shook as I tore the ticket.
[Nakime]
|Epic Familiar|
Demon Slayer - As one of the Kizuku, Nakime has formidable physical strength and regeneration, although lacking compared to her peers. Her Blood Art manifests as a pocket dimension called the Infinity Castle under her control, Infinity Castle is an infinite realm of the inside of a wooden medieval Japanese castle. She can create portals to this realm in the form of sliding wooden doors she can manifest on any surface she can perceive.
I felt my soul expand as a new connection formed within it.
Something deep inside me shifted, opening like a hidden chamber. A new subspace had appeared within my spirit. A place meant for familiars.
And someone was already there.
Through the strange link I could sense her presence clearly now.
Nakime.
The one-eyed demon. Upper Rank Four.
She sat calmly within the space, kneeling with her biwa resting across her lap, her single eye watching everything with quiet patience. The faint inscription of 'Upper Rank Four' seemed almost etched into the essence of her being.
Then—
Pluck.
The soft sound of her biwa echoed through the connection.
The moment the note resonated, a deep calm washed over me, like the world itself had steadied.
Her voice followed, quiet and composed.
"It is a pleasure to make your acquaintance, Master."
There was no hesitation in her tone. Only composed loyalty.
"With but a single word, I will serve."
Another gentle note rang from her instrument as she bowed her head slightly.
And I realized something important.
I had gained my first familiar.
"Okay. I can work with this," I said, trying to convince myself I hadn't just signed my death warrant. "Nakime at least gives me storage, a safe house, and an escape route when everything goes to shit." I looked at RNGesus. "I won't win straight fights against those threats right away. No way in hell. But I can be slippery, play it smart. Play the long game and hope they get bored or I get strong enough to actually fight back."
"Assuming you survive long enough to play any game," RNGesus said.
"I've already died once," I said, despite shaking a bit. "Might as well make the second run interesting. Go big or go home, right? And I don't even have a home to go back to."
The Parlour shone a bright gold as all the machines rolled jackpot simultaneously, as if celebrating his choice.
"Alright, kid." RNGesus stood. "Last thing before I drop you in. The ROBs and I are betting on you. How long you last, what you accomplish, whether you survive at all. Most have you dead within a week, some pessimists say three days, a few optimists give you a month, and I've got money on you making it past year one because I like your style."
"What's the over-under?"
"Three weeks. Odds are 8-to-1 against you seeing your nineteenth birthday. You're currently the longest long-shot bet in the cosmic casino."
I laughed. Actually laughed, because what else was there to do? "Those are shit odds."
"Best kind." RNGesus extended something approximating a hand. "Welcome to the game, John Strange Fake. Try not to die immediately. I'm rooting for you. I've got my date with Lady Luck riding on this."
I shook it. The void was already pulling me away, reality assembling itself around me in pieces like a jigsaw puzzle, and I felt the familiar rush of anticipation mixed with terror.
"And kid?" RNGesus called out. "Next time you gamble? Maybe ease up before the house takes everything. You've got a problem, you know that?"
"Where's the fun in that?" I said as a hole appeared below where I stood, abruptly.
"Oh, and before I forget. Happy Birthday John." RNGesus announced finally.
John dropped into a universe full of super freaks and alien Supers with a hard on for violence, raw and unprepared.
Exactly how I preferred it.
All in.
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