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Lucas stared at the person who had fallen from the building.

Their body was contorted and horrifically mangled, causing passersby on the sidewalk to move away as if avoiding something filthy. Some even ventured into the road, nearly getting hit by cars in their haste to steer clear of the gruesome scene.

“Damn it, this is going to lower the building’s value…”

Lucas muttered, feeling a twinge of pity at the sight, though it was clearly more about the building price than the dead person.

Gulp.

He took a sip of his milkshake, then glanced at Jinseong.

“…Do you have an idea of what I’m trying to request?”

“Hmm.”

Jinseong nodded at Lucas’ words.

“You want to prevent people from dying, right?”

“Well, that’s pretty close.”

Gulp gulp.

Lucas chugged the rest of his drink and raised a finger.

“First of all, I want you to sort out whatever damn curse some bastard has placed on my building that’s causing all this weirdness.”

“What kind of weirdness?”

“It’s not like I need ghostbusters or an exorcist. It’s not that serious… but.”

He paused, as if trying to think. His eyes drifted upwards. Then, stroking his crystal arm, he began to recount his experiences.

“First, there are small issues popping up nonstop. A rat chewed through the electrical wires causing blackouts a few times, and there was a plumbing crisis where the basement nearly turned into a swimming pool. A sewage backup filled the building with a foul stench, and at one point a door broke so badly we had to cut it out with a saw.”

While not earth-shattering, these incidents were certainly infuriating—things that, if experienced, one would typically mutter, “Man, this really sucks. Why am I so unlucky?” and carry on with their day.

But the problem was… this wasn’t just bad luck happening once.

“We’ve had plenty of investors storm the building after suffering big losses. Breaking windows is just the start—I’ve had firebombs thrown and even had someone rampaging in with a shotgun. Sure, the guards handled things well, but… it always left a nasty taste in my mouth.”

The so-called ‘bad luck’ he referred to was not just one or two incidents.

“Did I mention that birds keep flying into the windows and dying? It’s like these damn idiots think our building is a freeway, just racing in and smashing their heads. So I’ve had to clean that mess often. Plus, there was one unfortunate soul who got injured hitting a bird that fell, and I had to cover their medical bills. Damn it.”

“Hmm.”

“Then there were those lunatics from the Animal Protection Association showing up protesting in front of my building, and the broadcasting station came to report on it too. So, I had to fork out stupid amounts of cash to hire an ornithologist to come in and paint some weird patterns on the windows. Supposedly, they make birds feel like it’s a ‘blocked area’ or something….”

“….”

“Anyway, after I painted that damn pattern, things settled down a bit. But the real issue is that those animal rights nuts and the press keep popping back for updates. They say I’ve handled things well, but if something unlucky happens while they’re there, it’ll be a huge scandal; it’s a real headache.”

Lucas spoke non-stop about his experiences, with his words growing rougher as the emotions of the past resurfaced.

“There was a winter when a homeless guy crawled into the parking lot and got squished by a car while sleeping. Thankfully, he was 100% at fault and died on the spot, so it didn’t stir much noise… but the big spender who hit him was so sour about it he wouldn’t come around anymore. He took a hit on that one…”

And it went on.

Endless tales of woes.

What Lucas had gone through was nothing short of staggering.

“…There’s still more to recount. So much I can’t even recall, and plenty I haven’t yet said. Now you understand why I sought you out, right?”

“Got it.”

It was perfectly clear.

In such circumstances, seeking a shaman was hardly surprising.

If anything, it was a bit late.

“And then the second thing.”

Lucas held up two fingers.

“I’d like you to improve my money luck or something like that.”

“Money luck, huh.”

Lucas nodded.

“You probably see this place, Wall Street, as running on reason and logic, right? But it’s all insanity and greed lurking under that surface.”

Jinseong didn’t disagree with him.

Not because he was wrong, but because he understood the point Lucas was trying to make.

“But you need to understand, places tied up with money are often way more superstitious than you might think.”

Jinseong smiled at that remark.

“Making money is both in the realm of reason and logic, and the realm of faith and instinct.”

Money holds its own sort of mystical power.

It moves with a desire to multiply itself and manipulates its owner to run up those numbers.

More.

Even more!

To raise those figures even higher.

It moves, and keeps moving.

Whispering to those who behold it, seducing them.

To have more money.

To have even more!

As one succumbs to such desires, reason blurs and emotions take over.

And among those emotions, something plays a significant role.

That would be superstition.

Keep good fortune close.

Keep misfortune far.

Good omens near.

Bad omens remote.

Those who handle money inevitably get intertwined with superstition.

They might let trivial jinxes consume their lives or become so engrossed in divination that they toss everything else away.

“Like a great witch.”

Right next to Jinseong was a person like that.

Great Witch Odilia A Reich.

A witch thoroughly caught up in superstition.

Worse yet, prior to her rewind, she had become so engulfed in it that a religious fanatic caught her and she met a grim fate because of it. She went so far as to uproot pillars and offer them to a bizarre woman, squeezing her company employees dry, until she was so far gone she couldn’t even tell the difference between shit and soy sauce, leading her to steal money meant for mercenaries ending in her wretched death.

“Of course, that was an extreme case.”

Naturally, Odilia’s example fell under the extreme category.

Most wealthy people didn’t go that far; they simply engaged in superstition to a typical degree.

They might keep trinkets in their mansions that supposedly brought good luck, carry items intended to improve fortunes, become fixated on jinxes, or reconsider investments when encountering something ominous, or pray during significant events… just normal levels of belief.

Thus, Jinseong understood perfectly well what Lucas was hinting at.

“So, I mean… I’m open to anything. A ritual is fine, making a divine object is good too, or just crafting an idol that boosts luck works for me too. Oh, but if it looks too much like some evil cult’s item, then I’d have a problem. Those religious types will inevitably show up to hassle me. They might even vandalize it.”

“Got it. That’s not difficult to achieve.”

“Oh, that’s a relief.”

Lucas’s second request held two targets.

The actual improved money luck and the benefit that comes from the ‘money luck boosting magic’ being associated with him.

Money always carries superstitions with it.

So conversely, it also means that superstition might bring in money.

Employees at Lucas’s firm, Metatron Investment, would surely see the ‘money luck boosting magic’ and become convinced they were lucky, which would undoubtedly have a positive impact on the company.

And investors would likely think upon seeing the ‘money luck boosting magic.’

『 Since it’s a magic that boosts luck, I might as well stick around until the effects wear off. 』

If the rumor simply spread that ‘this company is lucky’, investments would flock in.

But if it’s not just a rumor and there’s a real effect… well, no need to elaborate there.

At the very least, as long as no more ‘unlucky incidents’ occurred for the company, that perception would favor Lucas.

In fact, unless something extraordinarily unlucky happened, it wouldn’t have much of an impact.

One could even think that thanks to the magic, they managed to avert a disaster that could’ve been worse—so there was that.

“And the third.”

Thus, this third request held significant importance.

“I’d like you to ensure that damn bastards don’t die in my building.”

Among the series of unfortunate events, this was among the worst.

Seeing blood.

Getting hurt, and watching people die.

There’s nothing that sticks in a person’s mind quite like that.

Moreover, living beings are instinctively predisposed to avoid death, so having people die in a building offers absolutely no advantages for any ordinary company.

Lucas stared intensely at Jinseong, fingers splayed open, three in total.

“I’m not asking you to prevent people from dying on this street. Ah, it’s not like I have doubts about your abilities or anything—not at all.”

A glint flashed in Lucas’s eyes.

That gleam bore a striking resemblance to a serpent’s gaze.

It made one suspect that cold blood flowed inside Lucas rather than warmth.

“People die equally. And the dumb ones, who don’t know their place, die even more equally.”

He spoke calmly, as if observing a fallen corpse like a snake.

“If they don’t know their worth, they die exceeding their limits, whether it’s stuffing money recklessly until they burst or making foolish investments and meeting their demise, blinded by greed.”

It’s always been the case, and it will always remain so.

He shifted his gaze towards the building where the body had fallen earlier.

There, the corpse lay.

“Therefore, there’s no need to worry about people dying. There’s no need for you to care, nor for me. That’s something they should handle for themselves, isn’t it?”

Lucas’s gaze towards the corpse was that of someone regarding a worthless object.

“So my last request is simple. Just make sure no one dies in my building.”

He said that and then seemed to remember something, tapping the table lightly.

“Oh, I made a mistake. Not just my building—my handmade burger restaurant too. Just those two places, keep it so no one dies there. Can you do that?”

Lucas smiled as he posed his question.

“That’s not a difficult task.”

Jinseong also replied with a smile.

 

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