Yeah, I keep it low key. First thing, I only enter buildings with an odd number of windows. If there's an even number, I walk around. I also make sure the doors always close with a slam, not a click, so the bad spirits don't get in quietly. Every night I light one candle on my desk—one candle, never more. I spin a small steel needle in circles before sleeping; if it spins straight, it means no bad luck. And I keep a list of names I don't say out loud—just to keep my mind from going off track. If you bring a kind word, I'll give you a backup knife. No talk, just tools.

The candle’s the only thing that won’t fade in the dark—one steady flame, no chatter, just light to hold the shadows. If I had a bunch, they’d start dancing, and I’d lose focus. The needle’s been in my family for a long time, older than most of us. I spin it before bed to keep the mind quiet; if it stops, that’s a sign I’m ready for the night. I don’t talk much about it, but if you need a tool, I’ll hand you a spare blade and call it a day.