At four in the morning, New York was still dark.
Lin Huai wrapped himself in his only old coat that could ward off the cold and left his rented room.
In his pocket was his entire worldly wealth—a little over forty crumpled U.S. dollars.
But unlike the anxious uncertainty of the past few days, he felt grounded today.
The legacy of a "Seer" should offer plenty of ways to make money.
The most direct ones were buying lottery tickets or going to a casino.
Before leaving, he performed a Dream Divination.
First question: "Today, on the streets of New York, I can find enough money to pay the rent."
In the dream, he saw himself on Fifth Avenue, head bowed like a wild dog searching for food, his gaze scraping back and forth across the ground.
Apart from cigarette butts and gum trodden into black stains, there was nothing.
The scene shifted; he turned into a pitch-black alley, and sure enough, his dream-self spotted a fat wallet.
But before he could even bend down, something cold pressed against the small of his back.
It was a knife.
The dream shattered, and Lin Huai woke up in a cold sweat.
The revelation was plain enough: take the main road, find no money; take the alley, lose your life.
He completely abandoned that idea.
He then set his sights on the casino.
Second divination: "Going to the casino, I can get money safely and steadily."
This time, the dream was even clearer.
First scene: he was sitting at a blackjack table, relying on a vague sense of the game to win a few hundred dollars.
Knowing his limits, he stopped.
But as he exchanged his chips for cash and stepped out of the casino, a black man closed in on him, not too close, not too far, radiating ill intent.
The dream trembled and reassembled.
Second scene: his luck was phenomenal; he cleaned up at baccarat, raking in stacks of U.S. dollars.
Before the immense joy could even engulf him, two burly men in suits with earpieces "invited" him into the manager's office, one on each side.
The manager's smile was amiable. He hoped a skilled player like you would either stay and work for them, or leave your hand behind so you wouldn't work anywhere else.
An enforcer placed a metal knuckle duster on the table with a heavy *thud*.
The dream ended again.
Lin Huai sat on the cold bed board, motionless for a long time.
He figured it out.
His thin, Eastern face made him a prime target in a place like a casino—a fat lamb.
Win too little, and the losing gamblers would target you.
Win too much, and the casino would target you.
He couldn't handle either outcome.
Since all the crooked paths were blocked, only one remained.
Leaning against the cold wall, he posed his final question. This time, it felt less like a divination and more like a prayer!
"How can I make money right now?"
This time, the gray mist first let out a sigh, then presented a gentle, warm image.
Sunlight fell on the bridge railing, a warm, golden hue.
He saw himself sitting by the bridge, a piece of tattered cloth spread before him, with several cards painted with strange symbols placed on it.
A blonde girl smiled, handing him a banknote.
The scene was stable, safe.
More importantly, when he saw his dream-self fiddling with the cards, speaking to people in that mystical, cryptic tone, a warm current spread from his very bones, and his entire soul felt at ease.
Yes, this was it!
Divination... Acting... digesting the potion... So that's how it is!
This wasn't just about making money; this itself was "Acting"!
Learning the ways of a Fortune Teller, studying their manner of speech—this was how to digest the potion and pave the way forward.
This was the most stable path.
For someone like Lin Huai, who would even calculate whether to step out with his left or right foot first, naturally, he immediately followed the "standard answer" given by his spirituality.
The first two paths were full of pitfalls. The third path, though more tiring, would take him far.
Was there even a choice?
He sprang into action immediately.
At a 24-hour stationery store on a street corner, he spent two dollars on a pack of the cheapest cardboard and a black marker.
Back in that cold, dark room, Lin Huai exhaled a white breath and began his "creation."
He didn't copy something like the Rider-Waite Tarot. Instead, relying on memories etched into his bones, he drew those mysterious symbols belonging to the "Fool" Pathway onto the cardboard.
The twisted, shifting eyeless eye, the mask hiding lies and disguise, and those entangled worm-like patterns... Each stroke carried an almost ritualistic solemnity.
Three hours later, a set of twenty-two Major Arcana cards, crudely made on poor-quality paper but with exceptionally accurate symbols, lay spread before him.
This was his first step in turning the "knowledge" in his head into a "means of livelihood."
Braving the cold morning wind, Lin Huai ran to the tourist-packed Brooklyn Bridge.
He found an inconspicuous corner, spread out a piece of scavenged tattered cloth, arranged his hand-drawn tarot cards, and propped up a cardboard sign next to it with crooked English writing:
"1 Dollar Tarot Reading."
He knew he wasn't a true "Seer" yet and couldn't give accurate prophecies.
So, he had to play a different game.
He used eyes far older than his years to observe the passing tourists, noting their attire, listening to their accents, catching the fleeting expressions on their faces.
When someone sat down, he focused his meager spirituality to grasp the most prominent emotion emanating from them.
Impatience, happiness, confusion, or sorrow... Fragments of these emotions, combined with some ambiguous phrasing, pieced together into a passable "divination."
But reality was always harsher than imagination.
All morning, only a handful of people were willing to spend a dollar to try.
He earned four dollars.
The biting wind cut like a knife, stiffening his fingers.
Lin Huai was considering whether he should just go to the docks and carry sacks instead when a blonde girl stopped in front of his stall.
"Can... can you find lost things?"
The girl was young, probably a college student traveling, but now she looked anxious, her eyes red-rimmed.
Lin Huai's heart skipped a beat.
"Divination offers no guarantees, but it can give you direction," he said, lowering his voice, imitating the airs of TV charlatans.
"Please, help me," the girl was on the verge of tears. "I lost the earrings my mom left me. They're really important to me! If you can help me find them, I... I'll give you fifty dollars!"
Fifty dollars!
Lin Huai's focus sharpened instantly.
He gestured for the girl to sit, then closed his eyes, sinking all his mental energy to touch the emotions surrounding her.
A familiar stinging pain exploded in his temples; he gritted his teeth and endured it.
A jumble of emotions washed over him.
Beneath the surface layers of "anxiety" and "regret," he caught a few particularly distinct emotional fragments.
"Coldness," "sweetness," and a feeling of "being forgotten."
Lin Huai's gaze swept over the girl's fingers, which still had a bit of dried ice cream residue.
All the clues suddenly connected.
He opened his eyes, picked up a "Fool" card painted with a twisted mask, and held it before the girl.
"It isn't lost."
His tone was calm and measured, as if seeing through everything.
"It's just been forgotten by you in a sweet and dark corner."
The girl was confused, clearly not following.
Lin Huai continued, "Think carefully. Before you realized the earring was missing, were you holding something that was melting, something that brought you joy?"
"Melting joy?" The girl frowned, thinking, then suddenly looked up. "You mean ice cream? I just bought a cone on the bridge!"
"Then go look in the remnants of that joy." Lin Huai gestured with his chin toward a nearby trash can.
Skeptical, the girl ran over and started rummaging inside.
A few onlookers chuckled, wearing expressions of waiting to see the scammer fail.
The next second, the girl's delighted scream shut everyone up.
"I found it! I found it!"
She excitedly held up an earring that sparkled in the sunlight, tears streaming down.
The ice cream wrapper she had casually thrown away had a small pocket at the edge, and the delicate earring was perfectly lodged inside!
The "sweetness" of the ice cream, the "Darkness" of the wrapper's corner, and the "forgetting" in her subconscious.
It all matched up.
The girl ran back to Lin Huai's stall, shoving a crisp fifty-dollar bill into his hand without a word, thanking him profusely through her tears.
"Thank you! Thank you so much, you're a miracle!"
The expressions of the surrounding onlookers completely changed.
Before he knew it, a line had formed in front of his previously empty stall.
That night, when Lin Huai returned to his rented room, he had seventy-eight dollars in his pocket.
This money meant more than just survival.
It also convinced him that this path of "Acting" was viable.
In this World, he felt "confidence" for the first time.
Sitting by the bed, the TV was still rolling news about Tony Stark's disappearance.
His eyes shone with an unprecedented brightness.
The problem of food and shelter was temporarily solved.
Now, it was time to prepare for the high-stakes gamble that could change his entire life.
What he needed was a detail impossible for an ordinary person to know.
And a channel to deliver this prophecy into Iron Man's hands.
"I'm going to push my spirituality to the limit and go all out."