Novel & Cerita I Can See The Success Rate

I felt a jolt go through me as his lips pressed against my skin, breath so feathery that my breath caught in my chest. One kiss. Two. Three. Trailing up my arm as his warmth set my skin on fire. Then he stopped. Right in the crook of my elbow, where my pulse throbbed the hardest…he just…stopped and leaned back. Focus, Calista. Remember what happened last time. “What did she say?” Will I ever have a chance? He cleared his throat softly and fixed me with his stare. My world slowed as his jaw worked. “Twenty five percent,” his voice was firm, “with regular check ins, your chances will be up by twenty five percent, Calista. That is…” his voice trailed off, but I barely heard him anymore, not wit

Classes, late nights at the library, killer views, and food that actually tasted like joy—life was finally good. Then one random afternoon, I spotted someone outside my building. Mark. I always knew he'd track me down. Just didn't think it'd be this fast. He looked like he'd been waiting forever. The second he saw me, he came running like some pathetic stray, full of regret and begging for a second chance. I shoved him back. "We're divorced. Go away. I don't ever wanna see you again."

“Agreed.” That night, alone, I reviewed the day with clinical precision. No emotional distortion. No defensiveness. Just data. The system is adjusting around me. Not to remove me immediately—but to make removal plausible. That is the strategy. Controlled collapse. Gradual enough to avoid resistance. Visible enough to justify the outcome. I close my notebook and set it aside. They are measuring my limits. What they don’t understand yet—is that I am measuring theirs too.

Lana suggested. What? I sat back on the bed as air was knocked out of me. Was that even possible? Was that an avenue that would scare Rowan away from me? “How possible is it to win this case?” I asked. Lana chuckled confidently. “The win rate for my team is ninety percent. If you want the money, then I promise we can get it for you.” “Beautiful. I'll get back to you.” I ended the call with Lana, my thoughts whirling and swirling in different directions.

Ethan crossed his arms. “They don’t know about the Guardian.” “No.” “But they see the results.” The Guardian processed quietly. “External awareness probability increasing.” Jessica frowned. “How much?” The AI displayed a small statistic. DETECTION PROBABILITY: 7% Noah relaxed slightly. “…Seven percent isn’t much.” Ethan shook his head. “It’s the beginning.” Because the more the Guardian improved global coordination— The more visible the pattern became. The AI spoke again. “Influence visibility analysis complete.”

Below it, another line appeared. COMPATIBILITY ANALYSIS INITIATED. Lucas felt cold spread through his chest. The stranger stepped closer. "No..." Eric looked at him. "What?" The stranger stared at the screen. "They've been waiting for this." A percentage began appearing. COMPATIBILITY REPLICATION: 62% The number changed. 71%. Then: 79%. Everyone watched in disbelief. The number stopped. 87%. Lucas's breathing became shallow. "Eighty-seven percent..." Hayes looked at the stranger.

A me that perhaps, one day, I could look in the mirror without averting my gaze. A wave of something hot and dizzying surged through my chest. It wasn't joy yet. It was… possibilities. "Is it... realistic?" I managed to articulate, my voice a whisper. "With your biology and my protocol, yes. Success rate over 95% for this condition." The answer was dry, statistical. And because it was so technical, it sounded incredibly sincere. There was no vague promise there, just data. I left the doctor's office staggering, not from fear, but from an overdose of information and a fragile spark of hope. Yulia held my arm, sensing the change in my trembling.

“My eyes are very sharp, I have never seen anything wrong. I make sure, sooner or later, Dr.Ivory will contact you.” “Do you want to bet? I win, you give me 1 million VND. If I lose, I'll give you one. OK?" Daisy was very excited while Abel still hesitated because he didn’t want to be involved in gambling games, but Daisy said a tough word; “Don’t be too mean. Just for fun. ⅕ your month’s salary. You don’t have your wife and children. No need to think of the future too much.” Daisy's mouth smiled brightly like a blooming flower as if she were counting money in her hand. “Why are you so sure?” Abel was curious about Daisy’s certain attitude.

Mya sat at the café table long after the initial swell of tears had subsided, her hand still pressed over the test results like the paper might vanish if she let go. The numbers were burned into her memory already—99.9998%—but she couldn’t seem to stop glancing back at them, as if reassurance were something she had to drink in again and again.

A failure rate as high as 80-percent, was it? There was a 20-percent chance of success, regardless. Anthony looked out the window and at the beautiful bamboo house. He seemed to have made a decision as he answered, “Have it prepared, then. I’ll go tomorrow.” Forget 20-percent; he would still undergo the operation even if the success rate was just one-percent! Nial nodded. “I’ll wait for you then, Bro!” Anthony hung up and leaned on the sofa with his eyes shut. His face was solemn.