I Don't Believe in Fortune Telling

I didn't believe in fortune telling. What exactly was fortune telling, anyway? Opinions on the subject varied from person to person, of course, but I could state one thing with absolute certainty: fortune telling was nothing more than an irrational, unscientific superstition that relied on pure luck. My view hadn't changed since I was a child, when my parents—whose business had already failed—became obsessed with a single fortune teller. They poured everything into that obsession, down to the very foundations of our home, before ultimately taking their own lives. If fortune telling had truly worked, our family would never have met such an end.

“……Let's not think about the past for no reason.”

Even if someone wasn't as extreme as me, most people only saw fortune telling as light entertainment or a way to boost confidence. Very few took it seriously. So setting aside the obvious frauds, how did those so-called “highly accurate” fortune tellers manage to make their predictions hit the mark and walk away with hundreds of thousands, even millions of won in payment?

“It's all a scam.”

Background checks, information gathering, reading the room, psychological counseling. In a way, it might be more accurate to call fortune tellers mind readers. They collected data through all sorts of methods and made inferences from it. For example, if someone wore expensive luxury clothes but kept fidgeting because they were uncomfortable, it usually meant they weren't actually rich. Or if a person used exaggerated gestures while talking, the odds were high they were lying. None of it was certain—just probabilities. Fortune tellers gathered these tells from people they'd never met before and spun them into plausible guesses.

It felt a bit ambiguous to outright call it fraud, but when they spouted nonsense about heavenly spirits or destiny while actually performing psychological analysis, it was fraud through and through. In this trash game, though, it seemed they actually wanted me to play a real fortune teller using real fortune telling.

“Then why the hell is the accuracy rate so garbage?”

What did a maximum of 25% even mean? It dropped to 20% for people I'd never met before. Still, since it was a class skill, clearing the class quest would probably strengthen it. But if it was a Fortune Teller class quest, it would definitely involve telling fortunes. And they expected me to clear it with a skill that only had a 20% hit rate? Obviously nonsense.

“Which means…… I need to prepare.”

I stared at the “time remaining” section listed in the tutorial quest. It had decreased a little, but I still had about three days. I just need to handle everything inside there.

Even inside Romance Academy, there were plenty of time-limited quests and events. This was the first time I'd seen one embedded in the ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠tutorial, though. Could this be considered consideration? That crazy bitch's version of consideration? At this point, I didn't even feel angry anymore. The rage toward her simply settled quietly inside me.

“Just wait until I get back.”

Developer or not, I'd make her quit and check herself into a mental hospital. Without fail.

With that strong new motivation to clear this trash game burned into my mind, I turned around. A wooden door stood there, practically screaming “Open me and leave~.” My instincts told me that opening it would lead straight into the Romance Academy entrance exam.

I'd organized my thoughts. All that remained was to step through. Still……

“……I should at least test it once.”

I'd already given up expecting anything from my class skill Fortune Telling. But even dog shit has its uses, and a skill you could use was still different from one you couldn't. It was a trash skill that only hit once every four or five tries on average, but still……!

“How do I even use this? In the game I just had to click it.”

Tick. Tick. Clicking the class skill in the status window did nothing. That left only one possibility.

“Fortune Telling.”

The moment I shouted the skill name while thinking about using that damned ability, the empty air began to glow faintly. Wait, did that mean I had to actually say “Fortune Telling” out loud every single time I wanted to use the class skill? That was beyond cringy——

Thud.

“……Tarot?”

What fell while emitting light was a beautifully decorated deck of tarot cards. Given the dramatic entrance, I'd wondered if it might be some hidden tool, but……

“……It's ordinary.”

It didn't contain any mana, didn't have any special illustrations, and wasn't particularly sturdy. When I tried to tear one, it ripped easily. They were just regular tarot cards you could buy anywhere.

“Since it's my first time, are you telling me to use these?”

Speaking to the empty air where the status window floated brought no response. I'd only blurted it out in frustration, so I hadn't expected an answer anyway.

I cleared a little space in the messy room, sat down, and began shuffling the cards.

Clack. Clack. Shhhhlap.

It had been a while, but the sensation came back immediately. I split the deck in half and mixed them with a casino-style shuffle, then ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠placed ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠the cards face-down.

Now then.

“What should I ask?”

The simplest questions that came to mind were things like “Can I clear this trash game?” or “Can I return to reality?” But those were taboo.

“They say even fortune tellers don't know their own date of death.”

Exactly. Fortune tellers were people who couldn't even divine their own death date. The saying perfectly captured the distrust and suspicion surrounding fortune telling. Hadn't I said it myself? Fortune telling was unscientific luck. Nothing more than guessing at people's psychology. There was no reason for such people to divine their own fates.

Of course, that was in reality. There was no guarantee the same rules applied in this trash game…… but it still felt off.

“Each class had quite a few hidden elements……”

Though they weren't listed in the status window, each class had characteristics that could be considered hidden. Classes like ‘Nouveau Riche' or ‘Investor' automatically received huge sums of money every month. Combat Mage or Element Mage classes had the setting of being smart, so they learned things faster than other classes. The ‘Imperial Family' class started with an absurd +80 affinity with pro-emperor figures but came with the penalty of assassin intrusion events at a certain probability every night.

Why hadn't any of these important details been in the description? It made my blood boil. I'd sent my sister 5,700 characters of complaints, but she completely ignored them. ……Anyway, since I didn't know what hidden elements the Fortune Teller class might have, I needed to be cautious.

After thinking it over, I decided to ask the first thing that came to mind.

“Will something special happen during the entrance exam?”

One card, two cards, three cards. The method I chose was the three-card spread. I drew three cards at random from the deck and laid them out in front of me one by one.

“The first one……”

An elderly man wearing a crown and sitting on a stone throne. Major Arcana Number 4, The Emperor.

“The Emperor, huh……”

The Emperor usually symbolized authority and stability, or leadership and perfection. When asking how a specific event would unfold, the cards were typically interpreted in the order they were drawn. The Emperor first probably meant it would start off stable and well.

“Second.”

A general riding a chariot with two sphinx-like creatures seated before him. Major Arcana Number 7, The Chariot. This represented victory and success. In this case, it suggested the entrance exam would proceed aggressively——

“……It's reversed.”

The Chariot card had come out upside down. In tarot, reversed cards usually carried the opposite meaning of their upright position. If it was the reversed Chariot, that meant defeat or loss.

“…………”

I didn't believe in the result, but it still left a bad taste in my mouth. Without erasing the uneasy feeling, I flipped over the final card.

The last one—— clouds in the sky and a wheel floating above them. Birds, angels, snakes, and foxes surrounded it.

“……The Wheel of Fortune.”

Major Arcana Number 10, Wheel of Fortune. It normally symbolized fate, turning points, or destiny itself. But if it was reversed, the story ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠changed.

“If the tenth arcana is reversed……”

Instability. Things going wrong.

“Ha. This is exactly why fortune telling is garbage.”

I'd finally done one after so long—couldn't it have shown me a slightly positive future? Why did it have to predict things getting worse? ……Wait a second.

“Then what exactly hits with 15% probability?”

How did “the fortune telling hits” even work? The representative of fortune telling, tarot cards, consisted of 22 Major Arcana and 56 Minor Arcana across four suits, for a total of 78 cards. Each arcana carried different meanings, and above all, their interpretations varied wildly.

How many different kinds of tarot cards are there in the first place?

Some decks included original arcana, others had different artwork, and sometimes upright and reversed meanings were swapped. In truth, tarot was so open to interpretation that the same card could produce completely different readings depending on the fortune teller. So how did the game judge it?

Did it follow my interpretation? Then if the chance that things go wrong during the entrance exam is 15%, doesn't that mean there's an 85% chance nothing happens at all?

I hadn't thought about it too deeply given the situation, but while I was pondering the concept of “fortune telling accuracy,” a status window appeared that rendered all my concerns meaningless.

“Yeah. Sure.”

The unasked-for “thump thump,” interpreting the Emperor card as actual royalty, treating the reversed Chariot as a literal strange chariot ruining the exam, and above all the part about stroking an upside-down wheel for comfort—every single thing left me speechless. But the most absurd part was the final sentence.

“The probability that the result will execute ‘exactly as described'?”

Then with 85% probability, the thing that ruins the entrance exam might not be a strange chariot but a strange student, and what I end up stroking might not be a wheel but a cat. Or the entire thing might not happen at all.

“Bullshit.”

There was no way in hell the probability of that exact result executing was anything but zero. Or rather, had my telling the fortune actually raised it all the way to 15%?

I swept up the scattered tarot cards and hurled them into a corner of the room, spitting out a curse.

“You're never getting used again.”

Yeah. I'd simply confirmed that a skill I already suspected was useless was, in fact, useless. Rather than wasting time here, it was better to face things head-on.

“……Let's go.”

Steel myself, turn the doorknob, and open it. The sight that greeted me beyond the door was——

“Congratulations on passing the entrance exam!”

“Congratulations!”

“Hahaha! The entrance exam is nothing once you meet me!”

“Today's the real showdown!”

“Whatever.”

Lines I'd read multiple times but that still dealt mental damage, along with banners I had never seen in the game.

“……Why is only the name in English?”

People celebrating not the admission or the entrance ceremony but the entrance exam itself. And right in the middle of all of it.

“Life…….”

I was the only one lamenting the cruel hand fate had dealt me.