As he pondered on Ciel's early morning warning of potential misfortune, Charlie was dumbstruck. The very afternoon he had lost the job prospect he'd been eagerly awaiting and even squandered a few verl d'or hosting a round of drinks. The thought of it all intensified the weight on his shoulders.
Ciel's smirk hit him, and Charlie's voice instinctively dropped to a hush.
"You can predict the future?"
His forecast had hit the mark with uncanny precision!
"Didn't I tell you? Just a wild guess," Lumian stated, his lie rolling smoothly off his tongue.
Yet, it wasn't entirely untruthful. It was more an educated guess, based on the luck patterns he'd perceived. It was akin to devising the method after having the final answer.
Charlie's expression reflected his disbelief, yet he didn't challenge the claim. Instead, he asked hopefully, "Has my run of bad luck ended?"
Lumian turned, his focus shifting, and his eyes growing stormy.
