He raises both hands, fists closed.
"I’ll keep my hands behind my back and extend a random number of fingers. Maybe one, maybe four, maybe none. You’ll tell me three seconds before I show you."
I stay quiet, a wave of heat washes over me, I know this test, my family ran it on me more times than I can count, and I’ve never failed.
Blue hides his hands and says, "In two seconds I’ll show them. Tell me what you’ll see. One, two…"
"Four fingers."
He shows four.
"Let’s continue, that’s still a common outcome."
He hides them again. "One, two…"
"Eight fingers."
He shows eight.
We keep going.
By the fifth correct answer, Blue tilts his head slightly.
"If you were guessing, your chance of getting this right each time would be one in eleven. The probability of this many correct answers in a row is one over eleven to the power of n. At five trials, that’s one in one hundred sixty-one thousand fifty-one. At ten, that’s roughly one in twenty-five billion. At twelve, we’re already in the trillions. Statistically, this is not random variation. This is a systematic effect."
"Keep going," I say, narrowing my eyes.
Six, seven, eight, nine, ten. I get all of them.
"We’re already at one in twenty-five billion…"
"Keep going."
We reach fifteen.
"At this point we can stop. We’re in quadrillions now. This is deterministic, not random."
I wince.
"I don’t do it randomly, Mr. Lowen. I see the future, if I focus, up to five seconds ahead."
Blue tilts his head, staying quiet.
"That doesn’t surprise you?"
"I’m a scientist, and I’m aware that unusual phenomena exist in AO society. What you can do is… perfectly suited to my needs."
"You mean hiring me as your bodyguard?"
"Exactly. Yes, it requires purchasing the marriage contract, that’s how Second Chance works, but that aspect will be inactive. I’m not looking for a relationship. I’m looking for protection, nothing more."
"Wait, I still have to agree to this…"
Blue folds his arms across his chest. "Do you have a better option? You can always sit in a booth, fending off sixty-year-old betas and omegas who want to get fucked by a young alpha just to feel something exciting in their stressful businessman lives… If that’s your thing, go for it. If you’d rather not be pushed into sex and instead have a job you can actually handle, this is your chance."
"There’s just one small problem. I don’t like you." The words come out carried on a surge of anger and pressure. "Okay, maybe I’m not on Marcel’s level, he straight-up hates you. But you represent a company that’s, at best, controversial to me. Protect you…? Or maybe I let them get to you. Ever think of that? Maybe I give them a shot at payback. If I were you, that’s what I’d be worried about."
A heavy silence settles between us.
