If it had been luck, then it could have been anyone falling into that pile of machinery. But this person had already had half of their face eaten by acid, they then survived another round of terrible odds, and had just the sort of skills and unique outlook to turn a pawn shop into an entirely singular gallery of oddities while stuck suffering inside of it.

[he shrugs over the glass that he's warming his hands with.]

Doesn't sound like luck to me. And it makes for a much better story.