《Criminally Good》 Another Day as a Corporate Slave Chapter 1 - Another Day as a Corporate Slave I sat hunched over my desk, the monotonous hum of fluorescent lights overhead mirroring the dull ache in in my temples. The rhythmic clatter of keyboards and the occasional murmur of colleagues formed a symphony of tedium that had become the soundtrack of my life. Each day blended seamlessly into the next, a grayscale loop of reports, emails, and meetings that seemed to lead nowhere. I glanced at the small calendar pinned to the cubicle wall, each crossed-out date a testament to time slipping away. It hadn''t always been like this. There was a time when the world had been alight with possibility, when the very fabric of reality had shifted, introducing the enigmatic force known as mana. The emergence of mana had been nothing short of a global renaissance. Individuals who could harness this mystical energy rose to prominence, their abilities reshaping industries, entertainment, and even politics. They became the new celebrities, their names etched into the annals of history as pioneers of a new age. I had watched from the sidelines with a mixture of awe and envy. I had never been among the fortunate few to naturally wield mana. But rather than succumb to bitterness, I decided to channel my intrigue into academia. I pursued a degree in chemistry, driven by a desire to understand the molecular mysteries that mana introduced to the world. I envisioned a future where I could bridge the gap between the arcane and the scientific, uncovering the secrets of mana-induced substances and perhaps even leveling the playing field for those without innate abilities. Yet, as with many dreams, reality had other plans. A series of unforeseen events¡ªa downturn in research funding, the closure of key laboratories, personal setbacks¡ªhad derailed these aspirations. Opportunities in my chosen field became scarce, and practicality demanded I find employment elsewhere. That''s how I ended up here, ensnared in the corporate machinery, my talents squandered on tasks that neither challenged nor fulfilled me. I sighed, rubbing my eyes before they could drift toward the window, where a sliver of blue sky teased a world beyond the office confines. I couldn''t help but feel a pang of regret, a lingering question of ''what if?'' But buried beneath the layers of resignation was a flicker of hope, a quiet rebellion against the mundane. Perhaps, it wasn''t too late to redirect my path, to rekindle the passion that once burned so brightly. For now, though, I turned back to my computer monitor, the cursor blinking impatiently¡ªa silent reminder that time waits for no one. As the day wore on, I found myself lost in thought, reminiscing about the days when mana had first emerged. I remember the late nights in the university laboratory, poring over a deluge of incoming research papers, trying to decipher the secrets of mana. My professors had been supportive, encouraging my curiosity and drive. They had seen potential in me, a spark that could ignite groundbreaking discoveries. A case of literary theft: this tale is not rightfully on Amazon; if you see it, report the violation. But as time went on, the reality of the situation became apparent. The world was focused on results that increased combat power. Skepticism on the practicality of the project grew, leading to budget cuts and the eventual shutdown of my research. My dreams shattered as funding and trust dwindled. With no other options, I turned to the corporate world, hoping to find some semblance of purpose. But the monotonous routine had quickly drained me, leaving me feeling like a cog in a machine. The passion I once had for discovery had been replaced by a dull resignation. ¡°Hey! Frax¡±, a slender hand in front of my face. "You''ve been zoning out a lot lately. Planning your escape from this prison?"? I forced a chuckle, she always had a way of telling what I was thinking. "Oh, hey Anna, just thinking about some old projects," I replied, hoping to deflect further inquiry.? Anna had always been a beacon of energy in the otherwise monotonous office environment. Around the same age as me, she possessed a vivacious spirit that contrasted sharply with the drab surroundings of their workplace. Her laughter often echoed through the corridors, bringing a semblance of life to the sterile cubicles.? Anna had joined the company shortly after me, and we had quickly formed a camaraderie based on shared responsibilities and mutual respect (work and games). While I often found myself lost in thought, Anna had a knack for grounding me, pulling me back into the present with her sharp wit and perceptive observations. But Anna''s comment struck a chord. "Escape," I pondered. The word echoed in my mind, a tantalizing prospect that seemed both impossible and essential. I had considered various avenues¡ªapplying for research grants, collaborating with former professors¡ªbut each path seemed fraught with obstacles.? In my darker moments, I even contemplated more drastic measures. "What if I sold various substances like in Making Good?" With the money I¡¯d make from that I could..." A hand appeared in front of my face once again this time, doing finger snaps. ¡°Hey! Your eyes are glazing over again. Are you having an internal monologue¡­ again? Never mind. did you see the email from management?" she asked, leaning against the partition that separated their workspaces.? I glanced up, adjusting my glasses. "No, what now?"? "Another project with an ''urgent'' deadline," she replied, using air quotes. "They want it done by Friday."? I raised an eyebrow. "It''s Wednesday afternoon. Do they think we have a time-stop ability or something?"? Anna chuckled. "I was just thinking the same thing. Maybe we should add ''chronomancer'' to our job titles."? "Or ''miracle worker,''" I added with a smirk. "What''s this project about, anyway?" She sighed, rolling her eyes. "Some last-minute client request. They need a full report on the latest mana integration trends." "Of course they do," I muttered. "Because who needs proper planning when you have us?"? Anna nodded in agreement. "I swear, they must think we have nothing better to do."? "Well," I said, leaning back in my chair, "looks like we''re in for another couple of late nights."? "Guess so," she replied, "but hey, at least we can suffer together."? I chuckled. "Misery loves company, right?"? "Who is misery and why do they love company," Anna said with a smirk while I cringed. Anna had a weird quirk where she enjoyed seeing people¡¯s reactions after poorly timed dad jokes. She liked reading complex expressions and deciphering them. "Has anyone told you that your cringe face could become a really popular emoji? In the ugly funny sense."? What did she just say to me? "Okay I''m heading back to my cube! Gotta start on that task pronto." Anna turned around seemingly happy with the look on my face. With me wondering if I should be flattered or appalled and Anna happily skipping to her cubicle, we both went back to work, ready to tackle the latest challenge thrown our way. We completed the task right before the deadline. But Anna called in sick for a week afterwards. The State of the Present Chapter 2 - The State of the Present Everyone thinks that they want change, but most people find comfort in their daily routine even though they hate it. Most people see when an opportunity comes to change their lives, but they don¡¯t recognize it. Why? Because their imaginations blind them. The opportunities that pass by often come in forms they never imagine. As such, we should learn to imagine all possibilities and grasp every opportunity that comes our way. -Caltech 2041 Valedictorian Speech January 16, 2031 ¨C The Day Everything Changed ¡°Good evening, ladies and gentlemen. We interrupt your regular programming with breaking news. This is Erica Miles with ENN, the Emergency News Network. At approximately 4:43 PM Mountain Time, a colossal object was seen plummeting through what seems like a hole in the sky, streaking fire and ash across the horizon before crashing on the outskirts of the Yellow Stone Caldera. What many first assumed was a meteor has now been confirmed to be something far more terrifying and¡­impossible. What crash-landed in Yellowstone was not a meteor¡ªbut the corpse of a dragon.¡± The camera shifts to live aerial footage: a smoldering crater obliterated a vast section of forest, steam and ash rising in thick clouds. Park rangers and military personnel swarm the area. At the center of the devastation lay an immense body¡ªscales glistening despite layers of soot, wings torn and draped over scorched earth. ¡°The impact has completely devastated the of the park bordering the southeast section of the Caldera, and authorities have issued an immediate evacuation order for all visitors and residents within a 50-mile radius. Early reports indicate numerous casualties and a wildfire rapidly spreading due to the crash. The Department of Homeland Security and FEMA have mobilized, and the President is expected to address the nation shortly. In the meantime, scientists from multiple agencies are converging on the site to assess what they are cautiously referring to as an unprecedented biological and extraterrestrial event. We now go live to our correspondent on the scene, Mark Turner. Mark, what can you tell us?¡± The screen pans to a middle-aged man, standing a distance away from the area cordoned off by yellow tape. ¡°Erica, the scene here is¡­apocalyptic. Entire swathes of forest have been incinerated, and emergency teams are struggling to contain multiple fires. But the focus¡ªrightly so¡ªis on the creature lying at the center of this destruction. It¡¯s hard to convey the sheer scale of this being. We¡¯re talking about a wingspan of what appears to be nearly 500 feet, claws longer than a sedan, and scales that seem to have a metallic luster, almost like armor. There¡¯s also a noticeable, almost static energy in the air, and scientists in hazmat suits are performing what looks like radiation scans. I spoke briefly with a park ranger who described seeing the body descend¡ªwings trailing flames, a roar that shook the ground itself. The ranger could only describe it as, quote, "the wrath of God made real." Suddenly, the camera jolts, and the audio crackles with static. The reporter stumbles, the ground visibly shaking beneath him. He looks away from the camera to someone in the distance and back to the camera. ¡°W-Wait¡ªare you¡ªare you feeling that? Oh my God, the ground is¡­ it¡¯s shaking. I-I think we have an earthquake, Erica.¡± The camera view tilts wildly, capturing trees swaying violently and cracks snaking through the ground. The screen cuts to static. Erica, seeing Mark¡¯s video feed cut-off hurriedly asks ¡°Mark? Mark, are you still with us?¡± Mark replies, his voice distorted by static ¡°Erica¡ªthis is¡ªunbelievable. We¡¯re getting reports that the Yellowstone dormant supervolcano¡ª" He pauses in the middle to process what he¡¯s about to say ¡°I can¡¯t believe I¡¯m saying this¡ªthe volcano may be activating. Scientists on-site are saying the impact must have triggered some sort of seismic activity. There are fissures opening up around the crash site, and there¡¯s¡ªthere¡¯s smoke and magma visible. Oh God¡ª¡± Looking at the blacked screen Erica worriedly says ¡°Are you¡ªare you saying the volcano is erupting?¡± Mark¡¯s voice crackles through the static, ¡°It¡¯s¡ªI don¡¯t know if it¡¯s a full-scale eruption yet, but we¡¯re seeing intense seismic activity. I ¨C oh my God. WE NEED TO LEA-¡± If you discover this tale on Amazon, be aware that it has been stolen. Please report the violation. A thunderous boom tore through the speakers. The news casting room trembled, sending everything on the desks crashing to the floor. Lights flickered, and cameras toppled, cutting off the broadcast''s visual feed. After a few moments, Erica''s shaken voice came back on, unsteady but audible. ¡°My God¡­ Ladies and gentlemen, if you are within 100 miles of Yellowstone National Park, you are urged to evacuate immediately. Do not wait for instructions¡ªget to safety now. We¡¯ll continue to bring you live updates as this story develops. For now, all residents are urged to seek immediate shelter and prepare for further seismic activity Stay with ENN¡ªthis is Erica Miles, and we are witnessing history unfold before our very eyes.¡± January 16, 2043 ¨C Present Day After watching the news report special, I sit at my cubicle in silence. It¡¯s been about 12 years since the Eruption of Yellowstone. Every year the ENN news recording is replayed everywhere as a reminder of the disaster that occurred. The news reporter, Erica Miles thought ahead and made a good decision on the spot to call for an evacuation radius of 100 miles. But no one could have predicted what would happen next. When the magma consumed the dragon¡¯s corpse, an explosion of unprecedented scale shook the world. With the dragon corpse at epicenter, the explosion consumed everything within a 300-mile radius. The sky turned black almost immediately, ash clouds blotted out the sun plunging the entire continent into darkness. The pitch-black volcanic ash infused with mana rained down with iridescent sheens dyeing the landscape with multi-colored hues in contrast to the otherwise lifeless surroundings. Iridescent, beautiful, catastrophic. What was once the American heartland became an uninhabitable wasteland, known now only as the Dragon¡¯s Grave. Survivors fled, choking on ash-laden air, eyes burning with both terror and the stinging particles that blanketed everything. The winds carried the ash upwards, turning the skies into a shifting canvas of eerie auroras, beautiful and deadly. As the days passed, it became clear that the fallout was unlike anything in recorded history. Crops withered under the mana radiation, wildlife mutated, and technology faltered, disrupted by the arcane interference saturating the atmosphere. At that time everyone called the initial explosion the ¡°Herald of the End¡±. Once the ash spread a good distance across land, sea, and sky, they acted as a fuse that triggered a chain reaction of natural disasters. Abnormal phenomena appeared globally. Multi-colored lightning, crystal geyser eruptions, rapid ecosystem turnover, etc. Governments collapsed within months, unable to contain the chaos. New power structures emerged, most centered around those who could harness the newfound energy in the air¡ª The Awakened. Those sensitive to mana found themselves capable of feats previously deemed impossible: conjuring fire, manipulating the wind, healing wounds with a touch. The chances for a person to become an awakened was 1 in every 100 people. The rest either didn¡¯t show a reaction, or died since their bodies were unable to withstand the surge of mana. As of now, there was no way to tell if a person has the potential of an awakened or not without them manifesting their ability. A popular study backed by lots of research institutions showed that between newly discovered awakened individuals and unawakened ones, both shared a similar level of mana stored throughout their bodies. So, by that logic, everyone who hadn¡¯t died from the initial surge should have an ability. Theoretically speaking that should be the case. The only difference between them was that awakened individuals discovered their powers by chance. There was a case where someone discovered their abilities after slipping at work¡ªonly to phase straight through the floor. Another involved a person shivering in the freezing cold; as they desperately imagined warmth, they suddenly burst into flames. There are many such cases, and because of this everyone is encouraged to ¡°find their worth¡±. To do everything that they can in order to discover their ability. It¡¯s been years since I read that paper, and I¡¯ve tried everything. I fell into a trance for the rest of the day and eventually found myself at my doorstep. I have¡­ no worth Making my way into my apartment, I did my usual wind-down routine. I watered my plants, ate dinner, showered, and messaged Anna to check if she¡¯s doing okay. Today, I learned that Anna submitted her resignation letter and moved all of her stuff out during the weekend. No one knew why, not even the gossip mongers. In fact, everyone asked me as if I knew where she went all of a sudden. I did not. I wish she told me. I wish she responded to my messages. They looked at me with sympathy and left me alone for the rest of the day. Even my boss had the decency to give me a break for the day. He even asked me if I wanted to use my vacation days. I sat alone on my couch, watching the news, the droning voices of the newscasters trying to fill the emptiness I refused to face. Various headlines flashing as time ticks. THE WILDHEART DISCOVERS A NEW SPECIES THAT CAN CALL FORTH RAIN A NEW HABITAT EMERGES AFTER A MANA SURGE, GUILDS TO BID ON OWNERSHIP THE HOLLOW KING DEFEATS THE EMBERLORD AND EARNS THE RIGHT TO EXPLORE DRAGON''S GRAVE Intoxicated with bottles of beer scattered on the table, the soft hum of the city outside barely penetrating the silence within. Anna''s departure had left a void, one that I couldn''t easily fill. Looking away from the TV I stared at the cluttered desk before me, memories of our time together at the office flooded my mind.? I fought against the urge to call her knowing that if she really wanted me to know what she¡¯s doing, she¡¯d call him. I trusted her that much. I just thought that she¡¯d at least leave with a goodbye. I thought that was a given considering how close we were. How close I thought we were. It¡¯s funny, I mused. We always made it our goal to escape the dreary cubicles, and now that she went and achieved that goal, I¡¯m feeling resentful. Maybe even a little betrayed. Looking at it from another perspective, I should be happy that she was able to get out. Instead, I should take this as an opportunity to pull myself out of this drudgery. Follow in her footsteps even. I had the means to leave, but I never did. Even though I hated the everyday monotony of work, maybe I didn¡¯t want to leave because she was there. I couldn''t imagine leaving her behind first. I wouldn''t even know what to say. Maybe that''s why she doesn''t want to have this conversation with me. Dammit Anna, I exhaled. I could even imagine what she¡¯d say to me, ¡°What¡¯s taking you so long? You¡¯re not going to stay in a cubicle when I¡¯m already out, are you? If you do, don¡¯t blame me for calling you a loser HAHA.¡± "Oh. Oh no", I thought. Her annoying smirk that gave me headaches was already becoming an endearing memory. Okay fine. I¡¯ll pull myself out. Pushing myself off the couch I walk over to my shelves. The place where I¡¯ve stored my university research. Knock on Wood Chapter 3 - Knock on Wood I leaned against the window of my dimly lit apartment, the neon glow of the city below casting fractured colors across the room. I exhaled slowly, reading through pages of my research, thinking back to the cold, sterile halls of the university. 2041 was my final year. The culmination of years of relentless study and experimentation. I could still recall the scent of damp earth and chlorophyll in the greenhouse, where I''d spent countless nights nurturing mana-infused plants, each one a potential breakthrough in the making. Towards the end I was hopeful with my data and presented it to the Academic Board of Research. "It¡¯s a wasted investment," Professor Alder had told me, arms crossed, voice heavy with the weight of disapproval. "Our city doesn¡¯t need additional plants to research, Frax. There¡¯s countless undiscovered plant and fauna outside of our city walls and we can¡¯t spend time characterizing all of them. Instead, we need stronger Awakened, better weapons, something tangible against the growing threats. That¡¯s where the funding should go." Their words were reasonable on the surface, but I knew better. All of these professors were already bought out. Providing opportunities only to projects that would make the Awakened within the organizations that they were a part of, stronger. I had argued, fervently, desperately. I presented market projections, theoretical applications, even small-scale tests that showed how the various plants he worked with could act as stabilizers for overexerted Awakened or serve as a cheaper alternative to synthetic mana stimulants. I had envisioned entire industries springing forth from this research¡ªmana-infused agriculture, pharmacological advancements, sustainable energy solutions. But they had been unmoved. I felt like a fool begging a group of rocks to acknowledge the feasibility of my studies. Unfortunately, they were only looking for works that would aid their own agendas. "You¡¯re thinking decades ahead, Frax," another professor had sighed. "We need results now." ¡°What bullshit.¡± I let out a sigh. ¡°I didn¡¯t mean to say what I was thinking out loud. But that¡¯s what this is. Both you and I wasting our time.¡±, I said as the composure they maintained throughout my presentation cracked with just a few words. And just like that, my project had been shelved, deemed an impractical venture in an age of adventure and survival. The research grants flowed instead into new-age cold weaponry and awakened augmentation procedures. I clenched my jaw, dragging a hand through my hair remembering how frustrating it had been. I don¡¯t think they reviewed any of my works since their gazes slackened once they heard plants were involved. And the annoying part was that I couldn¡¯t blame them. They needed immediate results to fund their own research into combat power for the Awakened and plants weren¡¯t exactly the first thing that would come to mind in that regard. Still, it definitely felt good to talk them down once I realized they weren¡¯t going to grant me any funding. I never felt so refreshed in all my years in the University until that day. After that I worked for a few years in an office experiencing business in a professional environment to map out how I would secure funding for research on my own. And honestly speaking, the delusion I had of hopefully working with like-minded colleagues in a professional environment collapsed in the first year. ¡­The first week actually. I found out that despite being my seniors in the office, most of the employees in my division didn¡¯t really know what they¡¯re doing. In fact, I worked my way up just by fixing everything that went wrong. Thanks to that I was able to jockey for a new position that would help me oversee all aspects of the business. As a bonus, they sent me someone that would help out. That¡¯s how I met Anna. In any case, I have everything that I need to make the products backed by my studies. I¡¯ve accrued so much overtime pay that I could afford to buy a rank D artifact without having to take a loan. I have the plants that I¡¯ve been taking care of daily. Unlawfully taken from Royal Road, this story should be reported if seen on Amazon. And the equipment that I salvaged from the University. They told me I needed to clean out the research lab and the greenhouse. They also told me that the specialized equipment needed to nurture these plants was useless to them, so I just brought them home. This isn¡¯t theft¡­ probably. They haven¡¯t contacted me for the last few years so it should be fine. Ignoring the fact that the only mode of communication they¡¯ve had with me was my university messaging account. ¡­Which I deactivated. Ehem. In any case, what I need to do now is to figure out how to sell this product. Would I be able to sell them through conventional means? Unfortunately, no. Even though the restrictions on drugs have been lifted somewhat, there are still regulations. The main regulation is that the effects of the product on people have to be reviewed and approved by the Administration of Mana-based products (AMP). I didn¡¯t want to waste my time on going through that tedium just to get turned away again. What other option do I have then? The online ¡®Black Dragon¡¯s Market¡¯. A mysterious organization that operates on a sector-wide scale. Interestingly enough they didn¡¯t start off with that name. A few years back, parts of the dragon that crash-landed and were thought to have been swallowed by Yellowstone, surfaced in an otherwise unremarkable market. That created such a stir that the Sector 3 government bought the dragon head through the online market and planned to verify its authenticity. That¡¯s when it was revealed who was backing the delivery. It was the Hollow King himself. I don¡¯t know the rest of the details and I¡¯m sure the government tried to cover it up, but the public consensus is that the dragon head was genuine. Taking advantage of all the attention it had at the time, whoever was running the generic online black market decided to brand it the ¡°Black Dragon¡¯s Market¡±, with the color black representing the Hollow King and ¡°Dragon¡± representing the quality of goods that customers should expect. All the individual illegal traders decided to migrate to this website and overnight it became the central hub for all illegal trade. I can¡¯t help but think that the government walked straight into a trap there. They put a lot of effort into regulating black markets and sweeping them under the rug, but this single blunder on their part centralized illegal trade, revealed a big-name backer that they couldn¡¯t afford to go against, and publicized it to everyone out there that has an interest in unregulated products. It really was a situation where ¡°curiosity killed the cat.¡± The worst part was that they couldn¡¯t even retaliate. Judging by how the website is still up and available, it seems the only option they had was to compromise. And that¡¯s where I¡¯ll be selling my product. So how does this work? Well¡­ I don¡¯t know. I pushed myself away from the window and settled into my desk chair, the hum of the city leaking faintly through the window behind me. I reached out, fingers tapping the worn power button of my old PC tower. With a soft click, the machine whirred to life¡ªfans spinning up, LEDs flickering weakly, casting a faint blue glow across my cluttered desk. I really should clean this up sometime. I tell myself that often, but I always put it off since it¡¯s a thought that only comes to mind when I turn the PC on and not after. The screen lit up in pulses, then steadied, revealing a familiar boot sequence layered with my custom scripts and encrypted overlays. As the interface loaded, I leaned forward, eyes sharpening. According to the new user setup page, first I¡¯ll need to make an account on Black Dragon then upload photos of the product along with the product description. Then they¡¯ll send a representative to pick up the product and it¡¯ll go through an appraisal process to determine if the product description is accurate. They¡¯ll even provide a breakdown of their test data for an additional fee. If the client does choose this option, Black Dragon will mark the product with a quality rank based on how valued they predict it to be in the market. The quality ranks for the products are as follows: Basic Refined Superior Prime Unique Black Dragon With ¡°Black Dragon¡± being the quality stamp that grants the greatest amount of status and in turn, publicity for a product. Looking through the product filters, it seems the only thing that was sold on the scale of ¡°Black Dragon Quality¡± in the history of this website was the dragon¡¯s skull. They¡¯ll even do a comparative analysis on how the effect of your product competes with similar product in the market and so forth. Wow they¡¯re really thorough. I¡¯m surprised since I imagined the whole process to be sketchier with it being part of the illegal trade and all, but it makes sense that criminals also strive for convenience. I opened the page to apply for a new account and sat looking at the blank entry field. What should I name my account? Naming an account shouldn''t be this hard¡ªbut then again, the account name would represent my brand. This was me staking a claim. A declaration. My shot at rebuilding everything they''d said would never work. I leaned back into my chair taking a deep breath, the scent of alcohol still present in my breath. Staring at the ceiling, tossing around names like Mana Bloom¡ªtoo soft, flowery, and generic. VoidRoot Labs¡ªtoo edgy. AlchemoTech¡ªtoo¡­ startup-y and reminds me of cancer. I needed something that didn¡¯t just sound smart. It had to feel right. Not polished. Not corporate. Just real. Like me. My fingers drummed on the desk, tapping against the old wooden edge. It was the same desk I''d had since university¡ªbanged up, scarred, and still standing. Kind of like me. I smiled at the thought, then muttered under my breath, "Knock on wood." And that¡¯s when it clicked. Knock on Wood. Luck and I have a complicated relationship. Most days, she spits in my face. Most of the time, I¡¯m the guy who drops his toast and watches it land butter-side down¡ªon a pile of handwritten notes. I once tripped over my own shoelaces and spilled mana extract into my only bowl of noodles. Ruined lunch and the sample. My office keycard? Demagnetizes itself at least once a week. My delivery drone once crashed into my balcony while I was watching it land. The worst part? It was just carrying coffee. I had to clean up the mess and work without my daily dose of caffeine. But then, every once in a while... she kisses me on the lips. Like finding a perfectly functional centrifuge in a dumpster behind an old clinic. Or getting rained on just long enough to duck into a caf¨¦ where I ran into a supplier I¡¯d been chasing for months. One time, I missed the train by seconds¡ªcursed everything¡ªand fifteen minutes later, the news said it derailed two stops down. It¡¯s not even about balance. It¡¯s more like... chaos in disguise. Like the universe is flipping a coin with jagged edges just to see if I flinch. And I do. Every time. But I keep playing. Because eventually, that coin lands just right. Starting over. Betting on myself. Gambling with everything on the line. I hit save on account creation page went ahead to harvest my plants for the first batch. Knock on Wood wasn¡¯t just a name. It was my life.