Bad Beat - Chapter 05 - Luck (Patreon)

Gabriel put down the phone at the end of the call and looked at the notes he had taken on a stray piece of paper.

The worker from the government office had been pretty clear. They offered two options: government-subsidized housing, with guaranteed placement for everyone in the household, though in Gabriel’s case it was just him, or a flat amount of money to help him rent a new apartment. If he chose the second option, the government office would wire the money and then wash its hands of the situation, leaving everything else up to Gabriel.

Based on the unspoken hesitation in the worker’s tone, Gabriel was fairly certain that if he chose the first one, he would be stuck in a bureaucratic limbo for a long time. There was no doubt that the office would prioritize families. A single, working-age man would be near the bottom of the list.

Just as he was about to review the information again, his laptop, open in front of him, dinged with a new email notification.

He opened it and saw that one of the landlords he had contacted had actually gotten back to him with a move-in date.

Apparently, they had checked his background, and as a single guy with no pets and stable employment, he was an ideal renter.

Gabriel blinked, then double-checked the address.

Still in San Bernardino and still within walking distance of his workplace.

He was relieved, as he didn’t know what he would have done if he had to look for a new job on top of everything else.

Gabriel quickly typed a confirmation and hit send, then picked up his phone and dialed the number the government worker had given him.

Some extra money would be nice right about now.

An hour later, several documents arrived in his inbox. He signed them digitally and less than five minutes after submitting the final form, his account balance increased by 4,500 credits – roughly three months’ average rent.

Of course, the document also stated that he would forfeit any right to sue the city for damages.

It felt cheap and insulting, but realistically, he knew he did not have the power, money, or influence to contend with the government. Better to keep his head down and deal with things as they come.

After filing away the new documents, he leaned back on the couch and stared at the ceiling.

His thoughts turned toward the future.

Honestly, he didn’t really know what he wanted to do.

With the Deck of Infinity, he would eventually be able to do almost anything. Key word: eventually. But right now, he was hilariously weak and painfully vulnerable. The deck had proven it could create and upgrade technology, but he still needed to know whether it could give him superpowers.

After all, the rice had done something to him. His body felt lighter, and he breathed easier.

So in theory, enhancement should be possible.

But it would take money.

A lot of money.

Or crime.

Probably both.

Gabriel was about to start doomscrolling when a loud pop-up exploded across the website he was browsing.

It had flashing colors, purported questionable science, and was rather aggressively marketing it.

He straightened in his seat slowly and grinned.

“Oh yeah,” he muttered. “It is coming together.”

The next day after work, he pulled on a baseball cap and made several laps around the neighborhood. He stopped at any shop that sold clearance supplements, buying mostly off-brand vitamins in oversized plastic bottles, the kind advertised at two in the morning on late-night shopping channels.

He also ducked into a small used bookstore and picked up a book about memorization techniques.

“Really?” the girl at the register asked, raising an eyebrow as she scanned it.

Gabriel shrugged, offering a self-deprecating smile. “Just finished a Holmes novel. Figured I’d see what the memory thing was about.”

“Wow. So original,” she replied, completely deadpan.

Sherlock Holmes still existed in this world – still the same drug-addicted genius detective who went up against superpowered villains using nothing but his ‘mundane’ intellect and questionable coping mechanisms.

So the whole hyper-memory trope was alive and well here, too.

As he walked back toward his motel, he took the shortcut he had discovered earlier in the week, an alley running behind a massive office building that housed some kind of generic corporation. The alley was wide and got decent natural light, which made it feel less threatening than it probably should have, and the reason why he dared to take it.

Dumpsters lined one side, with broken pallets and torn trash bags surrounding them. The usual urban detritus and ambiance.

He was listening to music on his cheap earphones, while making a note to upgrade those soon, when something metallic caught his eye.

He slowed.

A brief glint of sunlight reflected off something near one of the dumpsters.

Curiosity driving him, he stepped closer.

It was the shiny back of a laptop. A laptop with several clean holes drilled into it, lying on top of a mound of other laptops.

All of them were visibly ‘destroyed’ in a similar manner.

Gabriel stared for a long moment.

“Oh boy,” he muttered. “Someone is definitely getting fired over this.”

He stepped closer and casually leaned over the dumpster, took out the laptop on the top and began inspecting it. At the same time, he summoned the deck into his palm as he reached into the dumpster with a hand and began to absorb the laptops.

He currently had forty-eight cards free. Only his bugout bag, documents, rice, and water were being stored in the rest.

One by one, the ruined machines vanished soundlessly.

After about a minute, he deliberately dropped the ruined laptop back into the dumpster with a loud metallic clatter, thanks to the dumpster being empty. He wiped his hand on his jeans and stepped away at an unhurried pace, resisting the urge to glance back.

The walk to his motel room felt significantly more pleasant.

Back in his room, he put away the few groceries he had bought, lined the supplement bottles across the table, put the memorization book beside them, and then stacked the destroyed laptops next to them.

Then he took a shower.

When he stepped out, refreshed and clearer-headed, he poured himself a glass of Ordinary Spiritual Water and sat at the small table.

Five large plastic bottles of supplements sat before him. Each one loudly proclaiming improved memory, enhanced focus, and boosted intelligence upon consuming it, punctuated by scantily clad women grinning on the box art, surrounded by marketing buzzwords.

Next to them was a stack of destroyed laptops, probably thrown out by mistake by an intern who didn’t know how to properly dispose of electronic waste.

“Let’s start with something I know works,” he said aloud.

He took a card and absorbed the top laptop.

The card that was created had a white border, reading: 1 x Broken Laptop (Wiped).

Pretty much what he expected.

Then two of those created 1 x Low-Quality Laptop (Wiped), causing him to let out a sigh of relief.

“That’s promising…”

If broken components still counted toward fusion, this would be much easier than he had feared.

He continued the process methodically. Quickly going through the usual process, he arrived at 3 x Advanced Laptop (Wiped).

Gabriel frowned slightly. Setting one aside, he fused the remaining two, curious what lay beyond ‘advanced’.

The two cards fused with a brief, almost imperceptible flash.

The new card had a green border. In the background, the faint silhouette of a factory loomed behind a sleek, modern laptop. The name read: 1 x Cutting-Edge Laptop (Wiped).

“Pity about the wiped status…” Gabriel muttered as he summoned the laptop into his hand and began to inspect it. It was surprisingly light and thin. The design screamed minimalist. The kind of device displayed behind glass cases with security cables attached at an expo showcasing the latest and newest designs.

Eyeing the Advanced Laptop that remained, he shrugged. With a quick movement, he absorbed his phone and fused it with the Advanced Laptop.

The Urban Survival Phone card retained its name and border color - but when he summoned it and powered it on, it booted almost instantly. The interface was smoother, and the storage capacity had also increased. The battery indicator estimated nearly double the lifespan.

“Waste not, and all that…”

Next, he captured his old, beat-up physical laptop in the card and merged it with the Cutting-Edge Laptop card.

The name remained the same and so did the border color. When he summoned it, the exterior was still the scratched, sticker-covered relic he’d been using for years.

But inside?

Entirely different.

To Gabriel, it felt like taking an old Trabant to a mechanic and having a supercar engine installed under the hood. The screen was sharper, the system ran silently, the casing no longer overheated, and programs opened instantly.

The operating system no longer felt like it was held together with duct tape and digital STDs.

After confirming that all his files were still intact and that nothing had been mysteriously deleted, he leaned back, satisfied.

Proof of concept confirmed.

Now came the risky part.

He looked at the supplements.

All in all, he bought five bottles of generic supplements, so he was left with around five hundred gel pills. Probably colored glucose and marketing lies, but Gabriel hoped that the card wouldn’t care about that. If “broken” still counted toward fusion, maybe “fake” could evolve, too.

Otherwise, he was out of a hundred credits.

Another movement that was fast becoming routine, and the first gel pill was absorbed. The card transformed before his eyes – resulting in a white border and the very generic picture of a red and white pill.

The name wasn’t very promising: 1 x Fake Supplement Pill (Poison).

“…Okay. Not eating that.”

Gabriel absorbed another and fused the two. The new card read: 1 x Supplement Pill (Poison).

“That’s…progress.”

He continued, falling into a rhythm – absorb, fuse, absorb, fuse – occasionally pausing to stretch, use the bathroom, or grab a snack.

After several iterations, the card text changed: Effective Supplement Pill (Poison), then finally it lost the poison tag, before going through improved, enhanced, augmented, superior, perfect, before arriving at 1 x Evolved Supplement Pill. Surprisingly, even after so many times fusing an item, it still only had a green border.

“So, white for common. Blue and green are uncommon and rare? Maybe…” Gabriel muttered, a bit confused. “Then purple is unique…or super rare?”

‘The deck really should have come with a manual…’

Then his gaze shifted to the memorization book – Memorize like a Master: The Hidden Truth Behind the Mind and Beyond – and fused it with the Evolved Supplement Pill card.

There was a brief flash of light, and when the light faded, the new card showed a capsule – one half silver, the other white – floating in front of a backdrop of blurred bookshelves. Under it read: 1 x Evolved Memory Improvement Pill.

Gabriel stared at it. “Well,” he muttered, “hopefully this doesn’t give me extra-dimensional brain cancer.”

He placed the card carefully on the table.

He’d take it before bed.

For now, he just wanted to enjoy his upgraded laptop and relax a little with the local internet. He had started to get familiar with the local internet environment, but there were still things he wanted to know.

Later that night, after a rice dinner, Gabriel settled as comfortably as possible onto the motel’s lumpy mattress. Springs pressed faintly against his back, reminding him why he was eager to move out.

He placed a glass of water on the rickety nightstand and held the card between his fingers for a brief moment.

The pill materialized in his palm.

It looked…normal.

The capsule was smooth, silver on one side, white on the other. No ominous glow or sinister hum.

He turned it over once, twice in his palm.

He really was about to swallow something that had been a stack of fake vitamins and a discount self-help book twenty minutes ago.

Gabriel felt like putting it away, and maybe experimenting with squirrels of something, but then shook his head.

If he wanted to survive in this world, a world where supers flattened apartment buildings during arguments, he could not afford cowardice.

Before he could overthink it, he popped the pill into his mouth, chased it with water, and swallowed.

He braced himself, his entire body going taut.

He expected all-consuming pain, his blood burning in his veins, his skull exploding into fragments, reality being torn asunder as it fractured at the seams.

But nothing like that happened.

He lay there, staring at the stained ceiling.

There was no dizziness. No surge of power swept through his body and no sudden enlightenment illuminated his mind and soul.

After another minute of waiting, he pulled the thin blanket over himself and closed his eyes.

‘Maybe it needs time,’ he thought. ‘Or digestion. Or… whatever.’

Sleep came easily.

He woke the next morning feeling… different.

Clearheaded.

The usual morning fog that clung to his thoughts was gone. His mind felt sharper, like someone had adjusted the focus on a camera lens.

When he glanced at his phone to check for the weather, he saw the extra information that was displayed by the enhanced phone. Normally, he would’ve skimmed it without thinking. Instead, several old memories from university surfaced instantly, connecting to what he was reading. Concepts were clarified in his mind. Lectures he hadn’t thought about in years suddenly made a lot more sense.

It wasn’t perfect recall.

But his mind moved faster, making connections between facts and information much easier.

Staring at the phone for a while, Gabriel smiled.

“Well,” he murmured, “that worked.”

He tested himself deliberately, thinking back to classes, formulas, and conversations. Details surfaced more easily. Even memories belonging to the other Gabriel felt more organized – less like a book read through fog and more like properly labeled files in folders.

“Improved memory and no seizures. I’ll take it.”

It wasn’t a superpower, but it was enough proof for him. Proof that the deck could truly enhance him.

This made Gabriel pretty happy.

Then came the cleanup.

He gathered the trash he had accumulated over the week of his stay, like empty supplement bottles, packaging, general motel clutter, and stuffed everything into several plastic bags. The bags in turn disappeared into a card, where they were unceremoniously destroyed.

‘Look at me,’ he thought dryly. ‘Environmentally responsible interdimensional recycler.’

He packed away what little he owned into a bag he had bought from a surplus store. Clothes and other items given to him at that emergency tent after the destruction of the building also went into it. However, anything that could not be easily explained – enhanced electronics and suspicious materials – vanished into the deck.

Within fifteen minutes, the room looked almost untouched.

It took another few minutes to check out of the motel, leaving behind a bored receptionist who barely spoke English.

There was no fanfare or even drama. They didn’t even try to scam him with bogus cleaning fees.

Just another unassuming tenant cycling through.

Outside, the Saturday weather was mild.

Instead of taking public transportation, Gabriel decided to walk to his new apartment. His body could use the exercise.

As he walked, his enhanced mind continued adjusting. Thoughts flowed more smoothly and when memories surfaced, they slotted neatly into place instead of drifting away half-formed.

Photographic recall was probably very far away from him, but a fog he didn’t even realize was there was gone.

And that alone was worth the dangers of the mysterious pill he had crafted.

Two hours later, Gabriel stood in front of another ten-story apartment building that looked almost identical to his old one. Same faded paint, same concrete bulk, and the same faint smell of industrial runoff drifting through the air. The main difference was in the design and decorations, that is, the graffiti covering the walls and windows on the lower floors.

He took a steadying breath and stepped inside. The foyer was dim but clean enough. A security camera blinked lazily in one corner, but he noticed that somebody had stuck a piece of gum on the lens. He followed the directions in the email he had received.

Up to the second floor. Ring the bell.

The door opened a few seconds later, revealing a tall, scruffy man in a blue tracksuit. He had at least three days’ worth of stubble, dark circles under his eyes, and a can of cheap beer in one hand.

“What do you want?” the man spat, then burped.

Gabriel wasn’t even surprised. “Hey. I’m here about the apartment. We talked over email. Name’s Gabriel.”

The man squinted at him for a moment, gears visibly turning behind the tired façade, then the recognition dawned on him. “Ah! Right. You’re that guy from the building Voidwake destroyed.”

‘More like Voidwake and Bombshell…’ Gabriel corrected silently. Outwardly, he just extended his hand.

“That’s me.”

The man grabbed it – his palm was sticky – and shook it.

“Come on,” he started talking while putting down his drink and closing the door behind him. “Paperwork checked out. So if you like the place, you can move in today.” As they began to walk toward the elevator, he eyed Gabriel’s bag on his back.

“Thank you,” Gabriel replied, relieved.

Despite the rough appearance, the man’s tone had shifted to a more businesslike one.

They rode the elevator up to the seventh floor, where the man, whose name he still did not know, led him to apartment 707. The scruffy man fished an oversized keyring from his tracksuit pocket and unlocked the door, letting Gabriel go in first.

“After you.”

Gabriel entered cautiously.

The apartment wasn’t large, but it was functional. A couch and television occupied the living room area. A small dining table with three chairs stood near an open kitchen. The bathroom looked clean with a shower instead of a tub. The bedroom held a desk and a bed. Gabriel even tested the mattress, and thankfully, it was a higher quality than the one in the motel room. Not up to his standards, but better than nothing.

He walked to the window.

Below, a factory complex stretched outward, smokestacks, metal rooftops, and parked trucks. Because the factory buildings were shorter, he could see over them.

In the distance, the Los Angeles Megacity sprawled across the horizon, a jungle of concrete, glass, and neon. It made him feel very small.

The landlord stepped beside him. “Nice view, huh? Even better at night.”

“Yeah,” Gabriel absently replied. “Hard to argue with that.”

They did a quick walkthrough, and the landlord explained the basic rules. No loud music after ten. Trash chute at the end of the hall. Maintenance requests over email. Finally, they stopped near the door.

“Well?” the man asked, hands on his hips. “What do you think?”

Gabriel took one slower look around. It wasn’t glamorous, but it was stable and looked like someone had taken great care of it.

“I’ll take it.”

“Good,” the man said immediately. “Rent’s due on the fifth. One thousand and seven hundred fifty a month. Two months’ rent deposit.”

Gabriel nodded, opened his banking app, and transferred the funds. The man took his own phone out, checked it, then held out his hand.

“Good hustle. Call me Gary. Welcome to the building.” Another sticky handshake. “Oh, and don’t go above the ninth floor.”

Then he turned and walked off down the hall.

Gabriel stood there for a moment, staring after him.

He let out a quiet breath, closed the door, and walked over to the couch, lowering himself into it. The cushions dipped comfortably under his weight, another small but meaningful upgrade from the motel.

‘One problem solved…’ he thought, mentally reviewing the growing list in his head.

Housing: handled.

Funds: temporarily stable.

Enhancement: proof of concept confirmed.

Now he just needed to not die.

He was about to start getting things out when–

RING RING

The apartment bell echoed through the room.

Letting out a faint sigh, he stood and crossed the distance between the couch and the door and opened it.

“Hey, Gary, did you leave–” He stopped mid-sentence. “You are not Gary.”

Standing in the hallway was a young woman dressed almost entirely in black. Black jeans, black boots, and a graphic t-shirt featuring a band – or maybe a super. Whatever it was, he didn’t recognize it. Fishnet sleeves wrapped around her arms, and her black hair was styled in a wolf cut, slightly messy, but it looked like it was a deliberate choice to his amateur eyes. Thick eyeliner framed her eyes, and her lips were painted the same color as her nails.

Black.

She was also at least two feet shorter than him.

“No,” she replied with a faint smirk. “Definitely not Gary.” Her voice sounded confident. “Heard you’re moving in. Figured I’d say hi. You know. Neighborly things.”

Gabriel blinked once, recalibrating. “Well… hello. I’m Gabriel.”

She straightened slightly and offered a small, sharp smile, but it was not unfriendly. It still caused a shiver to go down Gabriel’s spine.

“Hello, Gabriel. Nice to meet you. I’m Mia,” she said. “But you can call me Mia.”

He paused.

“…Got it.”

A brief silence settled between them.

Mia’s gaze drifted past him, casually scanning the apartment interior, not overtly suspicious, just curious. Gabriel just contemplated the weirdness of his existence. Finally, after the silence was becoming uncomfortable and awkward, Mia tucked a strand of hair behind her ear.

“Well, anyway, it was nice to meet you, Gabriel,” she said. “I’m in 708 if you need to borrow sugar or whatever.”

There was a glint in her eyes when she said it.

“Okay,” Gabriel replied cautiously.

She gave him one last assessing look, then turned and sauntered down the hall. Her boots made soft, deliberate sounds against the floor. A second later, a door clicked shut.

Gabriel remained standing in his doorway for several seconds. Then he slowly closed his own door, letting the lock slide into place. He leaned back against it, letting the back of his head rest against the wood.

‘What are the odds that she’s a super?’ he wondered.

Given his luck nowadays…

Not even close to zero.

He pushed off the door and exhaled slowly. “Welcome to the neighborhood,” he muttered to himself before he began to unpack.

Time to get comfortable before life broke down the door again.