Bab 30: Trash Luck!
Hugo sat cross-legged on his dorm room floor, surrounded by a mess of textbooks, crumpled snack wrappers, and the growing weight of all his bad life choices.
The fluorescent lights buzzed above him, like they, too, were mocking his existence.
But tonight? Tonight wasn't about deadlines or existential dread. No, tonight was about something far more important—the gift box wheel.
He was going to use all his points to spin the gift box wheel!
His palms were sweaty just thinking about it. He finally had enough points to spin the legendary gift box wheel, which promised to bestow glorious rewards.
Maybe, just maybe, this was his ticket out of mediocrity. This spin could change everything.
It could give him rare items, a godlike ability—or, better yet, a date with one of the system's virtual waifus. The possibilities were endless!
Actually, Hugo was just fooling himself. The gift box only gave enchanted items, but still!
Still!
This was his chance. His moment.
This could be his salvation!
Hugo cracked his knuckles and took a deep breath, determined to maximise his chances of success.
But this wasn't just any spin. This required preparation, meditation, and the power of... Buddha chants?
He leapt to his feet, eyes wide with a blend of hysteria and genius. "Alright, Hugo. Time to channel the wisdom of the ages!" he declared to the room, his voice sounding crazed.
Of course, no one was there to witness his madness, but that didn't matter to Hugo.
What followed could only be described as… bizarre.
He began with a series of particularly unsettling, improvised yoga poses that looked more like a bad interpretive dance than anything remotely meditative.
First, he twisted his arms into something he called: "The Twisted Pretzel," while contorting his arms like someone trying to scratch their own back and failing spectacularly.
Next, he transitioned into "The Broken Flamingo," where he wobbled dangerously on one leg, almost face-planting into his desk.
He steadied himself. "Om... Shanti... Spinny-spinny… give me somethin' worth more than a penny!" he chanted, eyes squeezed shut, his hands forming a prayer position over his head.
He shifted into "The Distressed Crab," where he hunched over, arms flailing behind him like useless claws, before finally collapsing onto his knees, breathing heavily. "Ommm... Buddha... Rama... Ding-dong... Let this wheel make my game strong!"
Finally, after ensuring his connection with all the multiple budhhas were strong, Hugo huffed on the floor, sweat glistening on his brow.
After a few moments of silent reflection (and utter exhaustion), he opened his system interface again and the colourful wheel appeared before him.
He hovered over the "Spin" button, offering one final prayer to whatever deity or mystical force might be listening. "O holy random number generator, bless me with something that doesn't suck."
He clicked on spin.
The wheel whirred to life, bright colours swirling on screen like the ultimate slot machine of fate.
Hugo's heart raced as it began to slow, every click sounding like a drumbeat in his chest. The pointer ticked… ticked… ticked...
And stopped.
[Ding! Congratulations! You've won... A Rubber Chicken!]
Hugo's face fell faster than a lead balloon. "A... rubber chicken? Are you kidding me? What am I supposed to do with a rubber chicken?!"
The system responded in a deadpan, monotonic voice.
[Ding! System Online: The possibilities are endless.]
Hugo slapped his forehead. "Endless? Endless ways to humiliate myself, maybe. This isn't a prank, system! My future depends on this!"
50 hard earned points were gone just like that!
But he wasn't about to give up so easily. "Okay, that was just a warm-up. The next spin's gotta be the one. I can feel it in my bones."
Hugo still had 50 more points. He could spin the wheel one more time. This time, he definitely had to get something good!
He sprang back into action, trying to centre himself again. "Alright, more chanting, more focus. Come on, Hugo. You've got this."
Jumping back into his ritual mode, Hugo attempted another set of ludicrous poses, this time inventing "The Dying Octopus"—a flurry of flailing limbs as he spun around his room like a dizzied toddler.
"Buddha bless my spin, or I'll bin this whole damn system!" he yelled, flopping dramatically onto his bed.
Once more, he clicked the spin button, eyes glued to the screen as the wheel of fortune spun its merciless path. Time seemed to slow down.
The lights in the room flickered for added suspense (or maybe just because his dorm was in dire need of maintenance).
The pointer ticked again… slower… slower…
[Ding! Congratulations! You've won... A Slightly Used Tissue!]
Hugo blinked. Twice. His brain, for a moment, stopped working. "A... slightly used tissue?!" His eye twitched. "Why... why would I need... a tissue? A used tissue? In what world is this a prize?"
The system, oblivious to his growing distress, cheerily replied: [It's not just any tissue, Hugo. It's slightly used. Adds character!]
"Adds character?! What kind of sadistic program are you running here?!"
With a frustrated growl, Hugo screamed into his pillow, grabbing it and slamming it against his desk in a fit of rage. Then the walls. Then the floor. Then his face.
"Why, system, why?" he howled into the void, voice muffled by the now somewhat mangled pillow. "What did I ever do to deserve this? A rubber chicken and a used tissue?! This is my reward for chanting like a deranged monk?"
The system, ever calm, replied: [Better luck next time, Hugo. There's always another spin.]
Hugo lay there, staring at the ceiling, contemplating every decision that had led him to this moment. "Another spin? Yeah, sure, if I haven't lost my mind by then! First the chicken, now this tissue… What's next, a broken kazoo?"
With a heavy sigh, he muttered to himself. "You know what? Forget it. I don't need this... I need therapy."
As the system's cheery notification chimed in once more, Hugo rolled onto his side, resigned to his fate.
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