Chapter 4

By the time I arrived at the precinct, a crowd was already lined up in the hallway.

Mom, Dad, Natalie, Cole, and Cole’s mother. His mom was a petite, thin woman, standing protectively in front of her son like a mama bear.

Natalie was seated on a plastic bench in the corridor, her eyes red, clutching crumpled tissues and dabbing at her tears, looking as fragile and helpless as humanly possible.

The moment she saw me enter, she looked up, and the tears poured out even faster.

"Chloe, you're finally here." She scrambled to her feet, her voice cracking with sobs. "Mom bought me that pen. Why did you take it and give it away to a stranger? Do you have any idea how much that pen meant to me?"

Hearing that, Mom snapped her head toward me and glared. "Chloe, you took your sister's pen and gave it to some boy? What on earth is wrong with you?"

Out of nowhere, Cole cut in from the side.

"That pen has Natalie’s initials stuck to the cap. It’s her pen, alright. But she was the one who practically shoved it into Chloe’s face at the registration hall today. I watched the whole thing with my own eyes. Chloe dropped it, picked it up, and tried to give it back, but she ignored it."

His voice was calm and steady, but every word hammered straight into Natalie’s sob story like a nail.

The chat room laughed hysterically:

*[Damn, the rival’s observation skills are top tier!]*

*[Natalie’s whole script just got wrecked by an outsider. Look at her turning green!]*

Natalie’s weeping hitched for a beat, before she leaned harder into Mom, sobbing even more pitifully. "Mom, that’s not true! Chloe was—"

"Natalie."

At the end of the hall, an officer in uniform approached carrying a folder, cutting her off cleanly.

"We already pulled the security footage from the registration hall." Officer Miller opened the folder on the desk. "The cameras clearly show you initiated the interaction by handing the pen to Chloe. When she dropped it, you made zero attempt to retrieve it."

Natalie’s face went bone white.

Officer Miller continued: "Furthermore, you brought another person to Cole’s residence demanding the return of personal property. But given the footage and the circumstances, ownership of the pen is in dispute. Until that’s settled, nobody has the right to forcefully seize anything."

Cole’s mother scoffed loudly from the side. "My son was minding his own business at home when you brought some thug to push him around. If anything, I should be pressing charges against both of you!"

Mom’s face flushed red and white in rapid succession. She hurriedly tried to smooth things over: "A misunderstanding. It’s all a big misunderstanding. Natalie, let it go. It’s just a pen—"

"I CAN'T LET IT GO!"

Natalie screamed suddenly. The pitch was so shrill and piercing that everyone in the hallway jumped.

She glared at Cole, every ounce of her gentle, fragile persona stripped bare, leaving only raw, rabid desperation.

"That pen is mine! You have to give it back to me! Do you have any clue what that pen means to me?! You're a total failure who can't even get into community college—what right do you have to hold my pen?!"

Silence dropped over the corridor.

Everyone stared at her in utter disbelief.

The countdown in my vision flickered rapidly.

*[Luck Transfer Countdown: 11 minutes.]*

*[She’s cracking. The luck drain is wrecking her emotional stability.]*

*[Look at her hands. She’s shaking violently.]*

Cole pulled the pastel pink pen from his pocket and twirled it between his fingers.

"It’s a five-cent pen. What are you losing your mind over?" He scowled, tossing the pen onto the desk. "Take it. Nobody wants your trash."

Natalie lunged forward like a starved animal, grabbing the pen and clutching it tight against her chest, her knuckles turning stark white.

A flashing red banner popped up across my vision:

*[System detected the pen has returned to its original owner. Binding re-established. Luck reversal initiated.]*

My heart sank like a stone.

Natalie took a deep, shuddering breath, her composed, polite smile creeping back onto her face. She turned to Mom: "Mom, I’m fine now. I got my pen back. Let’s just go home."

As she brushed past me, she paused, leaning in close to my ear. Her whisper was as soft as a feather, dripping with venom.

"Chloe, you really thought you won? The past eighteen years belonged to me, and so will the rest of our lives. You will always live in the shadows of whatever I discard."

A single line slid across my eyes:

*[Don’t panic. The main character still has a trump card.]*

I watched her walk away, a faint smirk slowly tugging at the corners of my lips.

Because she didn't know that right before Cole tossed that pen onto the desk, he had used it to sign the very last box on his official commitment form.

The final notification glowed brightly before me:

*[System Ruling: During the transfer window, the pen was utilized to author another individual’s destiny. The luck reversal will trigger an irrevocable karmic backlash. Natalie, your luck has officially run out.]*