Chapter 45: To not be Caught - Part 2

“Honestly, I’m impressed,” Hyperion said. “Most people give up long before now. But you…” He gave a slow, mocking clap. “You’ve got spirit.”

Miles groaned. “If I say you win, will you just leave me alone?”

Hyperion shook his head, crouching to meet Miles’s eye level. “Not a chance. But hey, good effort.” He reached out, and before Miles could react, Hyperion grabbed him by the collar and hoisted him up like a misbehaving kitten.

“Capture complete. Probability of escape: 0%. Suggestion: Start negotiating.”

“Wow, thanks for the update, Captain Obvious,” Miles muttered.

Hyperion raised an eyebrow. “Talking to your imaginary friend? Or just admitting defeat out loud?”

Miles scowled. “Let’s go with option two.”

Once Miles stopped pretending he could escape, Hyperion set him down on a nearby bench. The man towered over him, still looking far too amused for Miles’s liking.

“I’m not here to hurt you,” Hyperion said, holding up his hands in a placating gesture.

“Oh yeah? Tell that to my dignity,” Miles shot back.

Hyperion chuckled. “Fair. But listen, I want to offer you something: protection.”

Miles blinked. “Protection? From what? The baker’s wrath for cutting through his shop earlier?”

“No,” Hyperion said, his voice growing serious. “From people who would take advantage of someone like you. And trust me, they’re out there.”

Miles crossed his arms. “And why should I trust you?”

Hyperion smirked. “Good question. That’s why I’m willing to offer you an unbreakable vow.”

Miles tilted his head. “Unbreakable as in…?”

“As in, if I betray you, I’ll suffer severe consequences. No loopholes, no tricks,” Hyperion explained.

“Alert: Hyperion speaks the truth. The unbreakable vow is exactly what it sounds like.”

Miles squinted. “Why are you suddenly so helpful, system?”

“Because if he betrays you, I’d have to deal with your whining.”

“Wow, love you too,” Miles muttered.

Hyperion watched him with a knowing smile. “So? What’s it going to be?”

“Fine,” Miles sighed. “But if this goes sideways, I’m blaming you.”

“Rolling for vow effectiveness…” Result: 20. The vow is airtight. Proceed with confidence.”

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Miles watched as Hyperion made the vow, and a soft glow surrounded him for a brief moment. It was oddly reassuring.

“Well?” Hyperion asked. “Satisfied?”

Miles nodded begrudgingly. “Yeah, I guess.”

“Good,” Hyperion said, clapping him on the shoulder. “Now let’s get back to the inn. You look like you could use a decent meal.”

Back at the inn, Miles sat awkwardly across from Hyperion, still unsure how he felt about this newfound alliance.

“So,” Hyperion began, leaning back in his chair. “You’ve got some incredible luck. Is that your skill, or is it something else?”

Miles stiffened. “Why do you want to know?”

Hyperion raised his hands. “Hey, I’m just curious. You’ve escaped me more times than anyone else ever has. That’s impressive.”

“Alert: Hyperion is probing for information. Suggestion: Be vague.”

Miles cleared his throat. “Let’s just say I’m good at rolling the dice.”

Hyperion chuckled. “Fair enough. I won’t push. But you should know that people like you—people with unique abilities—are disappearing lately.”

Miles frowned. “Disappearing? Like kidnapped?”

Hyperion nodded. “There’s an organization called the Collection of Miracles. They’re… let’s call them collectors. They want people with rare skills, and they’re not above using force to get what they want.”

“Great,” Miles muttered. “Just what I needed—another reason to look over my shoulder.”

Hyperion leaned forward, his expression serious. “That’s why I offered you protection. You’re a walking target, and you don’t even realize it.”

Miles sighed, rubbing his temples. “Why does everything in my life have to be so complicated?”

“Perhaps because you insist on rolling for everything, even breakfast choices?”

“Oh, shut up.”

Hyperion raised an eyebrow. “Who are you talking to?”

“Uh… no one,” Miles said quickly.

Hyperion smirked. “You’re a strange one, Miles. But I think we’re going to get along just fine.”

Miles wasn’t so sure about that, but for now, he decided to roll with it—pun very much intended.

______

Miles paced back and forth in his room at the inn, arms crossed, his thoughts racing like a runaway cart on a hill.

“Alright, system, one more time: Can I trust Hyperion?”

“Rolling for trustworthiness… Result: 18. Yes, you can trust him.”

Miles squinted suspiciously at the glowing numbers in his mind. “Eighteen, huh? What if you’re just buttering me up so I drop my guard?”

“My calculations are impartial. Hyperion’s actions so far indicate no immediate threat.”

“‘Immediate threat’ isn’t exactly comforting. Lancy didn’t feel like an ‘immediate threat’ until she tried to turn me into her personal power-up buddy,” Miles retorted, flopping onto the bed.

“Are you comparing Hyperion, who has made an unbreakable vow to protect you, to Lancy, who woke up on the wrong side of trust?”

“Yeah, well, I’ve learned my lesson. Trust is earned, not rolled for,” Miles grumbled.

“Rolling for wisdom… Result: 4. Your personal growth is underwhelming.”

Miles grabbed a pillow and hurled it into the air, knowing full well he couldn’t actually hit the disembodied voice of his system.

Throughout the day, Miles kept a wary eye on Hyperion. Every interaction—whether it was Hyperion ordering food, asking about the weather, or simply existing—was met with Miles internally rolling for trustworthiness.

“Hey, Miles, want to grab lunch?” Hyperion asked casually.

Miles’s eyes narrowed. “One second.”

“Rolling for trustworthiness… Result: 19. He just wants lunch.”

“Alright, but I’m watching you,” Miles said, pointing a finger at Hyperion like a detective cornering a suspect.

Hyperion raised an eyebrow. “What did I even do to deserve this level of suspicion?”

“Nothing yet. That’s exactly what makes you dangerous,” Miles replied.

By mid-afternoon, Hyperion finally snapped. “Okay, what is it with you? Did I accidentally step on your invisible pet? Insult your favorite food? Why do you look at me like I’m about to pull out a dagger and stab you?”

Miles shrugged. “Just cautious. You know, burned once, cautious twice.”

“It’s ‘once bitten, twice shy,’” Hyperion corrected.

“Whatever. Point is, I’m not letting my guard down,” Miles said firmly.

“Rolling for stubbornness… Result: 20. Congratulations, you’re insufferable.”

Miles ignored the system and continued his day of distrust.