Eugene was miserable. He’d been carrying that damned Krugerrand for 27 days now and there’d been no sign of The One.
Well aware that genius and madness are related, he’d scheduled a psychiatric evaluation. He scheduled it for right after the 30-day window. He had good reason to doubt his sanity. After all, he’d been having secret conversations with darkweb entities that wrote contracts in Sanskrit.
Fortunately for him, the 27th day was his day. The same day that Mike’s face got buried in a racist bear’s armpit, The One walked into the lobby of a hotel where Eugene had been staying while traveling for work.
Eugene’s day zero was about to begin.