Being led out quietly, was actually something he had already experienced in the past. Including the assorted press, the flashes of cameras, the microphones directed in his way. Except the last time he was cuffed, and the questions where how he felt betraying the city for money and a similar line of questioning.<br/><br/>This time around he was smiling, the bright flashes bringing back the pounding of the hangover. Or perhaps it was his quiet wish that his luck would make cameras malfunction, pens run out of ink and pencil tips snap. But he was probably not going to be that lucky, so he gave a moment.<br/><br/>"Chance Dexter." he replied to the the question about who he was, posing for the cameras for a moment, "And I guess I was just lucky. In the right spot at the right time. The true heroes however are the boys in blue, risking their lives every day for the good citizens of Omegapolis. They deserve the attention and the glory."<br/><br/>No sooner did he say those words, or he already knew he would regret it. If his luck brought the press onto him, then it was very likely, that it would also make something he just said as crucially important. And usually those things came around to bite him in the butt. Being the luckiest man alive did also mean that those one in a million chances of something happening also happened to him. Good or bad. Usually good, but bad often quickly followed.