The air vibrated. Numbers flashed across the battlefield.
Not random.
Not chance.
Brush felt them inside himself.
Every council member, every meta-unit, every buff and probability modifier he had faced—they all pulsed inside his chest.
He wasn't dodging luck anymore.
He was wearing it.
"Impossible," muttered the Gacha Master.
"He… absorbed probability."
Brush clenched his fists.
"If you want to fight me with luck…" he said quietly,
"I'll make it my weapon."
The Seed of the Internet flared. All connection, all shared engagement, all eyes and attention—it merged with the absorbed probability.
Numbers floated around him like a storm of loot boxes:
5★ chances spiked to 100%
Summon cooldowns vanished
Buffs triggered unpredictably… on his terms
Trojan Horse stared.
"You're… a walking gacha?"
"Exactly," Brush said.
"Every attack, every unit, every council vote…"
He flexed, and a summon appeared: a glitched unit of pure connection.
"Now I decide what spawns," he said.
"And how rare it is."
Meta-units lunged. Brush grinned.
He didn't attack them.
He rolled.
A banner appeared above his fist:
"Summon Activated: Random Ally—SSR Chance 100%"
A dozen legendary NPCs, erased bosses, and forgotten units blinked into existence.
Every strike they had tried against him now reflected back, amplified, randomized—but all obeyed his control.
The Gacha Master's jaw dropped.
"He's rewriting probability itself—into a personal gacha."
Crunchyroller tilted her head.
"This… could destabilize the system entirely."
Brush spun in place. The battlefield erupted into pure RNG chaos. Every council member, every meta-unit, every fanservice attack was now subject to his roll.
"I don't need luck," Brush said,
"I am the luck."
A final summoning occurred—a shadowy figure flickered.
"SSR: Chosen One?"
Brush laughed.
"I think it's time we let the odds catch up… to me."