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The original was posted on /r/hfy by /u/Vast-Listen1457 on 2025-05-15 03:00:57+00:00.

A background story about The Prospector. I like this guy too.

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Gregory Wilson sat in his cabin home in northern Arizona across from John, a journalist club member from the local high school. “What can I do for you John?”

“Well, um, Mr. Wilson, sir- “John began before being interrupted.

“Please, call me Greg. I worked for a living, and my father’s name was “Mr. Wilson”.”

“Certainly…Greg.” John took a deep breath, and took in the decorations around the cabin. Gold dust in a basket near the door with a sign that said “take a pinch, leave a pinch!”, nuggets ranging from 0.4 grams  up to 19 ounces , with little hand written note cards giving the date and location where they had been found;  a chunk of gold vein still in the host rock casually sitting on the corner desk that was worth several hundred thousand as a display piece;  and, strangely, an agate the size of his head in a locked display case hanging on the wall.

John started again, “Can you tell me your Origin story? After that, can you give me a tour of your cabin and land?”

“It started way back when I was just older than you…”

Greg sat in his chair, in front of the monitor and juggled numbers on the screen. Day trading was easy. Too easy. He sighed, shut down his computer, and walked away.

I need to find a hobby that fills me with something. A joy that makes my heart sing. He called a friend from high school. “Hey Joe, how goes college?”

“It’s one week into the first semester, and my English class already has me doing a project.” Joe replied.

“Nerd.” Greg grinned happily. “I bet you’re loving it!”

“What do you mean, nerd? You’re the one who sits in front of a computer all day, playing with numbers and other people’s money!” Joe laughed. “And you bet I’m enjoying the class! Now what’s up with you?”

“I’m bored.”

“You? They guy who started his own investment firm; that makes more money on the daily than I spent per credit plus books; are Bored?”

“Yup. The platforms are mostly automated now. I just need to check in every couple of days to make sure that any glitches get sorted out.”

“God above, I wish I had your talent.”

“Hey! I offered to teach you!”

“And your first lesson made less sense that calculus to a first grader.”

“Fine. Whatever.” Greg replied. “But yes, I’m bored.”

Joe laughed, “I found a local club that has an outing this weekend, if you want to come along?”

“Sure! What kind of club?” Greg asked, quickly looking up a flight to Minnesota.

“Gold Prospecting.”

Greg stopped looking for a flight, “I hate to break it to you, joe, but there’s no gold in Minnesota.”

“Yes, there is, just not enough to commercially mine.” Joe smiled into the phone. “I’ll send you some links.”

Greg finished ordering up his flight, “Fine, I’ll see you Saturday.”

John interrupted Greg at that point in the story, “Wait, are you telling me that you are the one behind Wilson and Grant Investments International?”

“Well, Joe Grant set it up that way, I just did the numbers for him.” Greg replied with a shrug of his shoulders. “I just talked him out of wasting his time in college after his first semester. He was wasting more money that a liberal arts degree in writing would make him in this corporate world.”

“And this would be the same “J. R. Grant who writes award winning romance, speculative fiction, and modern fiction books?”

“Yep. A college education would have ruined his writing career.” Greg said with another shrug. “Would have put him in the same mold as all the other writers out there, copy/paste the same drivel. Now he has the freedom to write what he wants, doesn’t have to conform to society’s whims, and can take random chances.”

“…Okay, let’s get back to you.”

Greg and Joe met up on the banks of the Mississippi river, just north of Minneapolis Minnesota. Both had gold pans, “snuffer bottles” and a good attitude. Joe introduced Greg around to the people from the GPAA that had come out on the warm fall afternoon to dig in the ‘sip for gold. And gold they found. Little fly poop sized specks at first, but ever so slowly the group found larger and larger pieces, some coming in at almost 0.2 grams.

Greg interrupted his story at that point. “At that point, I didn’t know I was powered, so it was a complete blast for me, and everyone else in the club. When I got home, I joined the GPAA myself, and went on more trips on my weekends. I became obsessed with the hobby!” Greg frowned. “Then, on a whim, I got myself tested for the Powered genome, and was positive. The test was hugely expensive back in the day, so most people never found out about their powers unless they were showy.”

Joe nodded along to Greg’s story, “What happened next?”

“Well, after the test, I started looking more into gold, and why I was finding it in good sizes when all that should have been there was the little specks.”

“What did you find out?”

Greg shrugged, again, “That out to a certain range, I can manipulate precious minerals that trade on the stock market for more than a $1 per pound.”

“What is the range you can do things at?” Joe asked, eyes alight with interest.

“Funny you should ask. The answer is actually classified.” Greg responded with a smile. “The government has meddled in my affairs, thinking it should be a state secret. I am not even supposed to leave the country without governmental permission, so of course I never do.” He gave Joe a very obvious wink.

“How does the rest of your story go?”

“I quickly became a multi-millionaire. I invested money into several dozen small business, and then wrote off the debts, or set the interest at what I would make in a basic savings account. Now I spend my leisure time hunting for other treasures.”

“Like what?”

“Well, every year in the late summer or early fall, I head to Lake Superior and hunt agates and uperlites. In the winter I hunt fossils here. I look for sunken ships. I’ve learned how to dive and do underwater welding.”

“That’s actually really cool!” Joe gushed.

At that moment, a young teenager stepped into the cabin and tossed some bills into the basket of gold dust by the door, then left. Joe sat up, one eyebrow raised, “What was that?”

Greg smiled a small smile, “Have you been to town here?”

“No. I came straight here from Williams. I was planning to stop in town for gas on my way home.” Joe said.

“Well, when you stop into any of the businesses in town, they have a small scale to weigh gold.”

“Why?”

“Because I act like an unsecured bank for the locals. Someone will stop by and grab a pinch or two of gold, spend it on a date, or gas, or mortgage payment, then when they have money again, they throw what they can into the basket until they think they’ve paid back what they owe.”

“How do you keep things even?” Joe asked, incredulity spread across his face.

“I don’t. I lose money on the deal every time.” Greg smiled and shrugged at the same time. “Well, almost all the time. Old man Jenkins always pays back what he borrows to the penny, but he’s plenty strange.”

“Why do you do it?” Joe asked, still not understanding.

“Let me put it like this; Who would you rather have around you, normal nice people who respect you, and go about their lives; Or some land developer turning the valley into planned communities that don’t give a shit about the “little people” of the community?” Greg frowned. “I know who I’d rather have around. As for why I do it? It keeps the local economy going. It helps take a load off of the minds of others. It’s paid for first dates and weddings.” A distant look grew in Greg’s eyes. “It makes a difference.”

Joe nodded, “Okay, now that makes sense. Eare to enlighten me about the giant agate on the wall, in the sealed case?”

Greg stood and took a few short steps to the case, patting it gently, “I found it. No powers, no nothing. Just good old fashioned hard work.”

“Ah, your hobby!” Joe put a couple of things together. “It’s not something you can easily do and your powers can’t help with, so you enjoy the challenge!

“Exactly.”

“Well, if you don’t mind, I think I will get going without more of a tour.” Joe said.

“Sure.” Greg shook Joe’s hand, palming him a nugget. “Have one for the road, it doesn’t mean that much nowadays.”

Joe left the small cabin and large ranch, all the while staring at the four-ounce nugget of gold in his hand.

*-*-*

What do y'all think about this guy and his power? It would make you fabulously rich...but would the money be worth it?

Anyway, love y'all!

Ps. Believe it or not, Minnesota does have small deposits of tiny gold specks almost everywhere in the state! So do pretty much all the states that got covered by the glaciers of some 10,000 years ago.

The GPAA (Gold Prospectors Association of America) is an actual organization the has groups all across the USA, so if you are interested in gold panning look them up.