Apocalypse: I'm Bound to a Mobile Lottery Shop

Chapter 68: Chapter 68: Can You Win?

In an instant, the fruit basket vanished. Lily Hart looked up in surprise, her eyes meeting Damon Donovan’s slightly panicked gaze. He forced a calm expression and said, "I put it in my spatial storage."

Lily Hart understood. ’But wasn’t that a little too fast? You could have at least let me admire it for a second.’

"Going to scratch any more?" Lily Hart asked out of habit.

"No more." Damon Donovan threw the words over his shoulder and turned to leave. He was clearly in a hurry, nearly tripping over a rock.

Damon Donovan proceeded with caution, winding his way through the maze-like urban village for a long time before finally knocking on the gate of a courtyard—three long knocks and three short. He didn’t wait for anyone to open it, simply pushing his way inside.

Once inside the main hall, he tapped the wall three times, then stomped his foot three times. A moment later, the sound of shifting mechanisms, KACHA KACHA, echoed from ahead.

Damon Donovan remained unfazed, simply standing in place and waiting. Soon, a pitch-black, perfectly square hole appeared in the floor.

Stairs led down, disappearing into the darkness. Damon Donovan calmly descended.

After descending the stairs for about half a minute, the path leveled out. Another minute of walking brought him to a door.

A red dot blinked on the right side of the door. Damon Donovan pressed his Light Brain to it. BEEP. The door slid open in response.

The room inside was silent yet brightly lit, like a small, fully-equipped base teeming with people.

The moment the door opened, all eyes snapped in unison toward Damon Donovan at the entrance.

They quickly swarmed him, pulling him inside and surrounding him before slamming the door shut with a BANG.

They all started talking at once. "How did it go?"

"Is it for real? Can you actually trade for supplies?"

"Well? Say something, will you?!"

Damon Donovan remained silent, simply taking the fruit basket out from his storage.

"That’s so much fruit!"

"Oh my god! Is it a model?!"

"Is it real? Can we actually eat it?"

"Boss!" someone exclaimed.

The crowd immediately parted, clearing a path. Daryl Donovan strode through, his expression grim and fierce.

He picked up the fruit basket and tore open the plastic wrap, and the sweet fragrance of the fruit instantly filled the air.

He plucked a grape and popped it into his mouth. Juice exploded on his tongue, filling his senses with the unmistakable scent of grapes.

He couldn’t bring himself to swallow it right away, chewing for a long while before finally gulping it down, skin and all. His tongue moved, savoring the lingering flavor.

"It’s real," Daryl Donovan said, looking at his brother, flames of excitement dancing in his eyes.

He lifted the bunch of grapes, carefully placed it in the hands of a subordinate standing beside him, and commanded sternly, "Divide them among everyone."

Even if each person only got a single grape, it was more than enough. These were fresh, plump, seedless grapes!

The crowd instantly moved with the subordinate. The man placed the bunch on a table, but not before laying down two clean sheets of paper underneath.

He knew the base’s population by heart—seventy-eight people. He wasn’t sure if this one bunch would be enough to go around.

He began plucking them off one by one and handing them out. By the time he was done, there were five grapes left, which he brought to Daryl Donovan.

Daryl couldn’t bring himself to eat them either, so he gave them all to his brother. "You eat. I need to ask you something later."

Damon Donovan didn’t hesitate. He stored two in his spatial storage, ate one, and handed the last two back to his brother.

"So what’s the deal with that lottery shop?" Daryl Donovan asked. He felt gratified, but his features were so stern that without a smile, he simply looked ferocious.

"As far as I can tell, it’s the real deal. I heard that convenience store was also a scratch-off prize. And..." Damon Donovan paused for a moment.

He continued, "I watched for half an hour. It seems all the prizes, including this fruit basket, are spit out from the mouth of that porcelain cat."

As Damon shared his analysis, Daryl listened and then slammed his hand on the table in excitement. "Doesn’t that mean all we have to do is snatch that cat?!"

"..." Damon Donovan had a nagging feeling that something was wrong, but he couldn’t quite put his finger on it.

’Logically, he’s right. But could it really be that simple? If so, why hasn’t anyone else tried it?’

"Brother, I think we’d be better off trying to cooperate with them," Damon Donovan advised.

"No way. Now that we know the most direct path, we have to take it. We move tonight!" Daryl Donovan declared, his ambition flaring.

Damon Donovan suppressed his own thoughts and sighed inwardly...

Back at the lottery shop, the second customer of the afternoon arrived. It was Leo Colby.

"Well now, long time no see," Lily Hart said casually. She sat with her legs crossed, her chin propped in her hand, idly swinging her raised foot.

Leo Colby murmured a soft "Mm" and began choosing his scratch-offs. After a long moment, he said, "Boss Hart, you left without saying a word."

"?" Lily Hart was baffled. "You didn’t want me to register you as a member, you wouldn’t join the group chat, and you didn’t add me as a contact. How was I supposed to tell you? Send a carrier pigeon?"

"..." Leo Colby was silent for a moment. "I’ll add you now." He then opened his Light Brain and waited.

Once they had successfully added each other, Lily Hart didn’t forget to ask, "Want to join the group chat?"

Leo Colby shook his head. "No."

That’s when Lily Hart remembered. ’Doesn’t Hope Base have the automatic scratch-off machines? I’m sure I left them fully stocked.’

’Don’t tell me... they sold out?’

She opened her Light Brain and swiped to the "Automatic Scratch-Off Machine" page. There was only one lonely entry: Hope Base.

Tapping on Hope Base revealed that the scratch-offs in both machines were completely sold out.

She thought back. ’I stocked fifty books of "Big 7s" and ten books each of the other three types! Their purchasing power is astounding!’

’But then again, it’s been three days since I left Hope Base, so I guess that’s reasonable.’

The points earned by the machines had to be withdrawn manually, and the system took a cut.

The reason given was perfectly logical: it was the machine manufacturer’s fee, five points per ticket sold.

A single machine could hold up to eighty books of scratch-offs, which meant she had earned eighty thousand points in just a few days!

After the system’s cut—a negligible eight thousand points—Lily Hart still thought it was incredible. ’Technology is a blessing to mankind!’

This strengthened her resolve to "light up" all the major bases. That way, she could just lie back and collect passive income in the future.

Once she sold the tickets on her counter, she could light up Bloomfall Base. Just the thought of it filled Lily Hart with motivation!

Just then, waves of customers began to pour in. Lily Hart got busy attending to them, temporarily pushing her grand ambitions to the back of her mind.

At some point during the rush, Leo Colby had already redeemed his prize, selected new scratch-offs, "fed" the Lucky Cat, and left.

She was busy all the way until evening. Lily Hart stretched her stiff neck and shoulders. ’I really need to buy a massage chair...’

In a nearby building, the Donovan brothers, Daryl and Damon, were monitoring the RV in real time.

Damon Donovan’s unease grew. He felt deep down that the lottery shop owner wasn’t as simple as she looked.

He tried to persuade his brother again. "Brother, don’t be rash. Let’s just watch for another day. Have you forgotten what happened to Zeke Lowell?"

Daryl Donovan froze. An image flashed through his mind: Zeke Lowell, devoured by zombies until he was unrecognizable, not even bones left behind.

He heard his brother continue, "Do you want all of us to end up like Zeke Lowell?!"

Daryl Donovan shook his head instinctively. "No, absolutely not. That happened to Zeke Lowell because he was arrogant and conceited. We’re..."

"Can you beat Frost Shaw? Or Roman Rowe?" Damon Donovan pressed, hitting a nerve.