Chapter 146 Luck
Words : 1134
Updated : Sep 17th, 2025
Sophie laughed, shaking her head. "That's silly," she said, her voice light, though there was something a little off about it. "First of all, I'm on the pill. And second, why the hell would you think that?"
Noah let out a breath he hadn't realized he was holding, exhaling in pure relief. "Shit. You scared me for a second."
But as the tension left his body, he noticed something.
Sophie wasn't smiling.
Her fingers fidgeted slightly, and her eyes, usually sharp and full of fire, held a distant, conflicted look.
Noah straightened, his expression turning serious. "Okay... then what is it?"
She took a deep breath, looking at him carefully before speaking. "It's about my powers."
That immediately grabbed his full attention.
She hesitated only for a moment before starting. "You know how, when everyone gets into Year 1, they have to go through the entrance examinations? Minister's daughter or not, I did mine just like everyone else."
Noah nodded. "Yeah, obviously."
Sophie continued, her gaze turning distant. "Lucas was tested and was immediately marked as an S-ranked soldier. A few others were high-ranking too. Everyone got their results, clear and simple."
Then she turned back to him, her voice quieter. "Do you know what I tested as?"
Noah shook his head. "No."
She let out a long sigh, her eyes flickering with an emotion he couldn't quite place.
"...Third Gen."
Noah blinked. He could hear the sadness in her tone, but he didn't get it.
"Okay?" he said slowly.
Third Gen? That wasn't a bad thing. In fact, it was good.
There were four types of awakened humans:
First Gen (the weakest),
Second Gen,
Third Gen,
And finally, the Alpha Class (which consisted of S, SS, and SSS-ranked soldiers).
If Sophie had awakened as a Third Gen, that meant she was closer to being an S-ranked soldier than a Second or First Gen.
Hell, if anything, she was above average.
Not even just average—there were so few S-ranked individuals in the Earth's Defense Forces that Noah could probably count them all on his hands.
And some people didn't even awaken at all.
So why did she sound so upset?
Before he could ask, Sophie spoke again.
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"In Year 2," she said, her voice quieter now, "we had an off-base, off-planet exercise. It was just a normal recon mission, but we had to go through a quick confirmation test."
Noah raised a brow. "Okay?"
Sophie swallowed hard, her hands curling into fists. "Guess what I tested as."
That was an easy question. "Third Gen."
But Sophie slowly shook her head.
Her breath shuddered, and her lips trembled, as if she was trying not to cry.
"...No." Her voice was barely above a whisper.
Noah frowned. "What do you mean, 'no'?"
She squeezed her eyes shut, as if saying it aloud would make it worse.
"...I came out as First Gen."
Noah's frown deepened, but this time, it wasn't out of disbelief—it was intrigue.
Sophie had his attention now.
She glanced at him, as if gauging whether he was following along before diving deeper.
"Think about it," she said, gesturing vaguely. "Luck is basically an unseen force that affects the probability of events. But probability is math. It's numbers. Ratios. If I flip a coin, it has a 50% chance of landing on heads. If I roll a die, I have a 1 in 6 chance of getting a six. But what if...?"
She paused, her blue eyes flickering with something almost playful.
"What if I could influence those probabilities?"
Noah felt a slow smirk tug at his lips. "You saying you can control chance?"
Sophie shrugged. "Not control. But I think I... distort it."
Noah blinked. That—that was actually interesting.
Sophie continued, her words coming faster now, like she'd been waiting for someone to actually listen.
"I started thinking about it after the second test," she admitted. "It didn't make sense, Noah. How could I go from being a third gen to a first gen? That's not normal. Awakening doesn't work like that. Unless—"
"Unless luck itself was the cause," Noah muttered, eyes narrowing.
Sophie snapped her fingers. "Exactly."
She went on, pulling from theories, studies, books—Noah could barely keep up, and he was actually enjoying it.
Not that he thought Sophie was dumb—far from it. But seeing her like this? Excited, engaged, completely in her element?
It was... unexpected.
And maybe a little hot.
Fine face. Prettier brain.
Noah's mind reeled as he started piecing things together.
"Wait, so..." He sat up straighter, his pulse kicking up. "Back at your place—when your dad walked in on us—"
Sophie raised a brow, waiting.
"You kept snapping your fingers," he continued, eyes widening. "And then, out of nowhere, a call came in, and he had to leave."
Sophie didn't say anything, but her expression said enough.
Noah exhaled sharply. "That was you? That was you actively distorting chance?"
She gave him a slow, knowing smile.
Noah ran a hand down his face. "The very concept of it is insane."
He leaned forward, trying to make sense of it all. "So what, you just... increase the probability of things happening? Or decrease them?"
Sophie hummed in thought. "Not exactly. I don't think I control it directly. It's more like... my presence causes probability to shift in unpredictable ways. For better or worse."
Noah's brain refused to shut up now. He went full breakdown mode.
"If that's true, then theoretically, you're a living probability field," he muttered, eyes narrowing in deep thought. "Which means your ability isn't just 'luck'—it's statistical manipulation. Like a passive force that alters the outcomes of random events."
Sophie tilted her head. "That's one way to put it."
"No, seriously." He stood, pacing. "If your presence changes probability, that means every action you take has unknown consequences. It's like... rolling loaded dice but not knowing how they're weighted."
He turned back to her. "So what's stopping you from just snapping your fingers and making sure you win the tournament?"
Sophie let out a small, humorless laugh. "Because it doesn't work like that. I don't control the outcome—I just nudge reality. And sometimes? It nudges back."
That made Noah stop.
"...Meaning?"
Sophie sighed. "Meaning, for every time I shift probability in my favor, something else might shift against me. It's not a free pass—it's a gamble."
Noah's stomach tightened. A gamble.
And now it made sense why she was so hesitant to enter the tournament.
Because what if this time, luck didn't play in her favor?
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