[ WP ] A superhero whose power is to calculate probability of things happening super fast .

“ Rick. He ’ s back. ” 
 
 The floor supervisor leaned over the security console. The cameras on the casino floor covered every angle. And there, in the middle… “ Third time this month, ” said the guard. “ As if he doesn ’ t know we ’ re going to spot him. ” 
 
 “ Get rid of him, ” said Rick. “ And ask him why the hell he ’ s still trying. ” 
 
 Outside in the pouring rain Oliver shook himself and his sport coat free of the security guard ’ s grip. “ That ’ s quite enough, thank you, ” he said in his weaselly little voice. 
 
 “ Got ta ask, ” said the guard, keeping one hand on his not-all-that-concealed weapon. “ We know what you look like. And we know what you do. Why are you still trying? ” 
 
 “ Because, ” said Oliver, “ there ’ s still an eleven percent chance that you ’ ll miss me. ” 
 
 The guard scoffed. “ Impossible. We ’ re watching every square inch of this casino twenty-four seven. Multiple eyes on multiple camera feeds, and believe me, every single one of them recognizes their face by now. ” 
 
 “ I assure you, I am never wrong. Eleven percent. If you had those chances for winning your way to retirement, wouldn ’ t you do it? ” He started to turn away. 
 
 “ Wait! ” said the guard. “ You can tell us what we ’ re doing wrong? ” 
 
 Oliver raised his eyebrows. “ I could, or at least make some educated guesses. Will I? I don ’ t think we have that kind of relationship. ” 
 
 “ I could put in a word– ” 
 
 “ Every five seconds you spend talking to me increases the chances of your boss asking uncomfortable questions by six percent. Go on in, Buster. Have a good day. ” 
 
 “ Be seeing you, ” said the guard, almost but not quite a question. 
 
 “ Oh, eighty-nine percent chance, give or take, ” said Oliver, and grinned.
