Apocalypse: I'm Bound to a Mobile Lottery Shop

Chapter 32: Chapter 32: Second Prize

Squad Leader Forrest Finch came to join the fun, but for some reason, while he was picking out his scratch-off tickets...

Frost Shaw kept staring at him. His gaze was a little resentful and defiant, but when Forrest tried to get a better look, he had already lowered his head.

Forrest Finch didn’t understand, but he didn’t dwell on it. After picking out tickets to his heart’s content, he looked up.

Of the twenty seats, the only one left was next to Frost Shaw. ’Why isn’t anyone sitting there?’

Forrest Finch cheerfully plopped down in the seat. He didn’t use the little golden scraper provided by the lottery shop, opting instead for a coin he’d brought himself.

Beside him, Frost Shaw was scratching away at lightning speed. A mere twenty tickets were nothing to him.

But his intuition was useless here. In a whole book of tickets, the number of winners was based on a set probability.

It was usually between eight and twelve winning tickets, and the prizes were random. Not even the system or Lily Hart knew what they would be.

Frost Shaw counted his winning tickets—eleven of them. He gave a dissatisfied purse of his lips.

He couldn’t help but glare at Boss Hart. ’It’s all her fault I wasted so many Crystal Cores. Hmph!’

Lily Hart successfully received his glare and, not to be outdone, shot one right back. She sat up straight, puffed out her chest, and asked, "What?"

Frost Shaw immediately lost his nerve. He handed over his stack of scratch-off tickets, his voice weak but his expression rigid. "Redeem these!"

"Tch," Lily Hart scoffed, a smug look on her face as she took the stack of tickets and fed them into Fortune’s mouth, five at a time.

She clicked her tongue as she did so. She knew the win rate for each book—a maximum of twelve winners, and Frost Shaw had managed to scratch out eleven.

’This guy’s luck is as insane as ever. The king of good fortune himself!’

’Let’s see what good stuff this guy won this time. Fruit, common. Pastries, common...’

Then, the Lucky Cat spat out the final prize: a light, flimsy card that fluttered down onto the table.

Lily Hart picked it up, shot to her feet, her eyes widening in disbelief. She read it over two or three times, unable to believe it.

Frost Shaw was curious, but he didn’t say a word, remaining as still as a mountain in his seat. He was, after all, a mature minor.

"Is this for real?" Lily Hart repeatedly asked the system in her mind.

The answer she got was always the same: ’It’s real! It couldn’t be more real, Host! Accept reality!’

Her heart turning to ash, Lily Hart tossed it onto the table in front of Frost Shaw, then whipped her head away, refusing to look at it again.

Frost Shaw nonchalantly picked it up to look. On the ID-card-sized prize, there were just a few simple lines of text.

[Congratulations, Mr. Frost Shaw, on winning a "Convenience Store."]

[This is the second-place prize for the "Big 7" series!]

[Please see the shop owner at any time to redeem your prize.]

Frost Shaw’s breath caught in his throat. He could almost hear his own heart begin to race. He knew what a convenience store was.

They were filled with tons of things to eat, drink, and use—in short, they had practically everything.

’If I owned a convenience store, wouldn’t that mean Easton and the others would never have to go hungry again?’

’I wouldn’t have to kill zombies day and night just to come to Boss Hart’s place and play scratch-offs, either.’

After fantasizing for a moment, Frost Shaw couldn’t help but feel a surge of excitement, the tips of his ears turning slightly red.

But a splash of cold water quickly doused his excitement. ’Where would the merchandise in the convenience store come from?’

He secretly glanced at the dazed Lily Hart. ’Could Boss Hart be the one to provide it? Is there really such a thing as a free lunch?’

’But if Boss Hart doesn’t provide the goods, where am I supposed to find things to sell?’

Meanwhile, Lily Hart only appeared to be in a daze; in reality, she was talking to the system.

"Why is a convenience store even one of the prizes?" Lily Hart demanded, incredulous. ’How could Frost Shaw possibly have won something so incredible?’

’Each batch consists of one thousand books, and there’s only one convenience store prize. And that’s just the second-place prize. If I told you what the grand prize was, it would scare you to death.’

Lily Hart didn’t care about grand prizes or second-place prizes right now. All that mattered was that Frost Shaw had won the convenience store. It belonged to *him*!

She was furious! Her childhood dream had been to open a small supermarket, to lie around at home while a steady stream of income rolled in.

’Host, the convenience store still belongs to you. He’s just managing it on your behalf. Besides, you’re the one who gets to set all the rules.’

Lily Hart’s eyes lit up, her entire being seeming to find new life. "Really?" she confirmed. "Then we’ll need to sign a contract!"

Hearing this, Lily was no longer angry. She was still the boss, and Frost Shaw was just the employee.

She immediately began to think about how to run this convenience store. Just then, the system presented her with a piece of paper.

On it were written several points of notice.

[The convenience store cannot be more than ten meters away from the lottery shop.]

[The merchandise within the convenience store must be supplied by the lottery shop, by any means necessary.]

Lily Hart scanned the list. Only these two points were important; the rest was just fluff.

’I have to provide the merchandise? How am I supposed to do that?’ Lily Hart browsed the system’s mall. The food items, needless to say, were all very expensive.

’I can’t possibly stock up from here just to sell it in the convenience store, can I? Who would willingly run a business at a loss?’

After browsing for a while, Lily Hart discovered an inconspicuous category in a corner: Near-Expiry Goods.

She clicked on it. The items were indeed cheap—three-quarters cheaper than their normal price in the mall.

She tentatively placed an order for a bottle of mineral water. When it appeared, she saw it still had five months until its expiration date.

’This is considered near-expiry?’

The system explained, ’In the future world, people demand fresh, clean, and green food. They want products in their hands the moment they’re produced. Something like this water, with a two-year shelf life but only five months left, is already considered trash to them.’

Lily Hart’s eyes widened. ’That’s ridiculous! If all the items in the near-expiry category are like this, then I suppose I wouldn’t mind selling them.’

’Worst case, I’ll just sell them a little cheaper. As long as I’m making a profit, I don’t care if it’s a small one.’

’As for the profit... a 70/30 split. Frost Shaw gets thirty percent, I get seventy.’

With her whole scheme planned out, the conniving merchant Lily Hart silently walked up to Frost Shaw’s side. She patted Forrest Finch on the shoulder, signaling for him to go make himself scarce.

Forrest Finch: ?

He didn’t understand, but he obeyed.

Lily Hart didn’t sit down right away. ’Mom always said not to sit on a seat someone else just warmed up.’ She casually rested one hand on Frost Shaw’s shoulder and took the card with the other.

She fiddled with it nonchalantly, tilting her head slightly as she asked, "Get the picture?"

Frost Shaw naturally knew what she was asking. He just nodded silently. Ever since his first scratch-off ticket, he’d known Boss Hart was a shrewd businesswoman. ’She’s definitely going to "threaten" me now.’

Sure enough, Lily Hart slowly sat down, turning to face him. She placed one hand on the table, lightly tapping its surface with her index finger, and propped the other on her knee in a cool, relaxed posture.

Frost Shaw felt inexplicably cornered and awkward. He subtly brought his legs together, shifting into the posture of a well-behaved child.

"Take a look at this," Lily Hart said, tossing the paper with the system’s notices in front of him. She propped her chin on her hand and watched him.

Frost Shaw read through it carefully, line by line. He got the gist of it and found the terms acceptable. It wasn’t some kind of unequal treaty.

Though he was powerful, he yearned for freedom and preferred to act alone. Central Command had once invited him to join, offering a rather impressive benefits package.

The condition was that he had to obey orders.

If you were told to go on a mission, you had to go. They expected you to walk through fire, not to mention that you’d have to jump off a building if they ordered you to.

The moment Frost Shaw heard how restrictive it was, he flatly refused.