Chapter 17: Luck is a skill - Part 2

“Not bad, outsider,” a voice drawled from nearby.

Miles turned to see a woman leaning against a post, her arms crossed. She was a half-dog hybrid, with floppy ears poking out from her short, unkempt hair and a bushy tail swishing behind her. Her sharp amber eyes gleamed with curiosity.

“That was a classic scam,” she said, her tone half-impressed, half-amused. “You catch the price gouge, make a scene, and while you’re distracted, the real thief takes your pouch. But you didn’t fall for it. Nice work.”

Miles rubbed the back of his neck, feeling a flush of embarrassment. If only she knew it wasn’t skill, just pure dumb luck. “Uh, thanks,” he muttered.

She smirked, pushing off the post. “Name’s Lancy. And you are?”

“Miles,” he replied, trying to keep his tone neutral.

“Well, Miles, I’ve got to say, it’s rare to see someone handle themselves so well against this crowd. Especially someone new. You’ve got a sharp eye.”

Miles bit back a laugh. Sharp eye? More like rolling high on a dice roll. But he decided not to correct her. If she wanted to think he was skilled, who was he to argue?

Lancy’s tail flicked as she studied him more closely. “You’re not from around here, are you? What brings you to our little slice of chaos?”

“Just passing through,” Miles said, avoiding the question.

“Well, if you’re looking for something more interesting than overpriced snacks and pickpockets, come find me at the tavern later,” Lancy said, tossing a casual wave over her shoulder as she walked off. “I might have something for someone with your... talents.”

Miles watched her go, still chewing on his skewer. “Talents,” he muttered under his breath. “If only she knew.”

As the day wore on, Miles wandered through the village, taking in the sights and sounds. His encounter with Lancy lingered in his mind.

“She might be useful,” he mused. “If I need to form a party, someone who knows the ins and outs of this place could be a good start.”

For now, though, he focused on gathering information. He asked around about the dungeon, other players, and anyone with “divine blessings.” The answers were vague at best, but he did learn one important thing: this village was a hub for adventurers, mercenaries, and anyone else looking to make a name for themselves.

With a little luck—and maybe some more rolls—Miles was certain he could find what he needed here.

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As Miles chewed on the revelation that he’d stumbled into a new world where adventurers with "divine blessings" might exist, Lancy’s parting words echoed in his mind.

“Find me at the tavern later. I might have something for someone with your talents.”

Curiosity gnawed at him. Could she be an adventurer herself? Or was she just another opportunist trying to sniff out his coin pouch? Miles decided he couldn’t risk wasting time on false leads.

“Let’s see if she’s the real deal,” he muttered, focusing on the question.

Roll to Determine Lancy’s Authenticity as an Adventurer.

The dice spun in his mind and landed with a satisfying thud.

Result: Positive. Lancy is a genuine adventurer.

Relieved, Miles nodded to himself. At least she wasn’t another scammer. He spent the next few hours wandering the market and soaking in the sights before heading toward the tavern Lancy had mentioned.

The building looked unassuming from the outside—a sturdy, worn-down structure with flickering lanterns above the door. But as Miles stepped inside, he realized this was no ordinary tavern.

The room was dimly lit, and the air hummed with quiet intensity. Adventurers of all kinds were scattered around: hulking warriors polishing their weapons, mages flipping through spellbooks, and archers adjusting quivers. The atmosphere was electric, heavy with the promise of untold stories.

Miles paused, taking it all in. His system pinged.

Alert: This is a front for the Adventurer’s Guild. Access Restricted.

A new message followed.

Requirement: Level 10 or Higher Adventurers Only. You do not qualify under normal circumstances.

Miles’s stomach dropped. Of course, there was a catch.

Then, another notification appeared.

Exception: You have an invitation from Lancy. You may roll to test your luck.

“Guess I don’t have much of a choice,” Miles muttered, mentally rolling the dice.

The result flashed in his mind: Success.

The guard at the entryway, a burly man with a scar running down his cheek, gave Miles a once-over. His eyes narrowed. “You don’t look like you belong here, kid. What do you want?”

“Uh,” Miles began, his voice faltering. “Lancy invited me.”

The guard’s brows rose slightly at the mention of her name. After a tense moment, he grunted and stepped aside. “Fine. She’s in the back. Don’t cause trouble.”

Miles let out a breath he hadn’t realized he was holding.

He spotted Lancy sitting alone at a table in the back, nursing a drink. The room seemed to give her a wide berth, with no one sitting near her. She radiated an air of quiet authority, her sharp eyes scanning the room.

Gathering his courage, Miles approached her.

“Hey, Lancy,” he called out, perhaps a little louder than intended.

The reaction was immediate. Every conversation in the room stopped. Heads turned toward him, and he felt the weight of dozens of eyes on his back.

Even Lancy, who had seemed so approachable earlier, suddenly looked more intimidating. Her amber eyes narrowed, and her ears twitched. A faint growl escaped her throat, and her tail swished sharply.

Miles froze mid-step, sweat breaking out on his forehead. Had he just made her angry?

Roll to Determine Lancy’s Mood.

The dice rolled, and the result appeared in his mind: Amused and Happy.

He blinked in confusion. If she was happy, why did she look ready to tear him apart?

Before he could overthink it, Lancy leaned back in her chair, her intense expression melting into something more relaxed. Relief flickered across her face, and she gestured for him to sit down.

“You’ve got guts,” she said, her tone carrying a hint of laughter. “Calling me out like that in a place like this.”