BEFORE THE WORLD FROZE, I BUILT MY OWN KINGDOM

Chapter 16: Five Hundred Thousand Bets on One Number!

December 3rd, around seven in the evening.

Ethan arrived at a lottery counter a few kilometers from his rented apartment.

He pulled out a sheet of paper he had prepared earlier and slapped it down on the counter.

"I want five hundred thousand bets on these numbers," he told the shop owner.

The owner frowned. "How many?"

"Five hundred thousand," Ethan said with a serious face.

"Go on, get out of here. Don't make trouble," the owner said impatiently.

Over the years, he had met his share of lottery addicts, and he had even heard of people who spent millions to buy every possible combination. But that was a game for rich people with money to burn. The top prize was only ten million, and the smaller prizes were nothing. After tax, they'd take a big loss. Spending a million on a single set of numbers was plain foolishness. And this young man didn't look like someone who could produce a million dollars. He was obviously joking.

Ethan wasn't angry, and he didn't argue. He took off his backpack and dropped it on the counter.

Under the owner's puzzled gaze, he unzipped it. Inside were stacks and stacks of cash.

Every lottery player in the shop was drawn to it, and they crowded around.

The owner took out a bundle with trembling hands and checked it, struggling to hide his excitement. It was all real.

But he was still confused, and he didn't know how to handle it.

Ethan said impatiently, "Hurry up and print the tickets! If you delay my jackpot, you won't be able to afford the compensation!"

"Your money..." the owner said uncertainly.

Ethan understood his worry at once. He took a bank receipt out of his bag and handed it over. "This proves the money's legal source, right?"

He pulled out his ID again as well.

To be honest, getting this money out had cost him a lot of effort. The bank had insisted on a reason for the withdrawal, and then on a document to back it up. A document for what? Did he need a reason to take out his own money? If it weren't for the transfer limit on his card, he would never have bothered going to the bank for cash. Who knew he'd have to prove himself just to withdraw it? It was absurd.

So Ethan had told the teller he was withdrawing the money to deposit it in the bank across the street. The staff were unmoved and told him they could simply transfer it online. He felt as if he'd punched a pillow, as uncomfortable as swallowing a fly.

But for the sake of the lottery, he had swallowed his anger. After much argument, he went to the police and obtained a clearance certificate. That finally convinced the bank to release the money, but not that day. He had to make an appointment first.

What could he do about their service? He swallowed his anger again.

Luckily, he had gone to withdraw the money more than a week early. Even luckier, he received the full million in cash the day before the draw.

Seeing all that, the owner had no more doubts. He nodded again and again. "Excellent, excellent! Young man, you really have guts!

"But are you sure about five hundred thousand bets? How about spreading it over a few dozen different numbers?"

Ethan shook his head and pushed the paper forward. "Just this one. Five hundred thousand bets."

"Sigh. Fine!"

Seeing how firmly he insisted, the owner stopped trying to talk him out of it. He earned an 8% commission on every ticket. Selling this million meant $80,000 in his pocket. He didn't care how the customer lost, as long as he made money. And if he kept nagging, the man might go to another lottery counter, and he'd lose a fortune.

Ethan might suffer a huge loss on this deal, but the owner's profit was guaranteed.

With that thought, he stopped hesitating. His hands shaking, he entered the numbers Ethan gave him, one by one.

After checking and rechecking with Ethan, he set the system to "multiple bets" and printed the ticket. Following the same process, he printed another forty-nine. During all this, the million dollars in the backpack was counted too.

By the time everything was finished, it was already 7:57, only three minutes before sales closed.

After settling the money and the tickets, Ethan walked out of the shop with his fifty tickets.

The lottery players who had watched it all were amazed. As soon as he left, several of them hurried forward.

"Give me fifty bets on the numbers he just played!"

"I'll take five!"

"Boss, give me a thousand!"

"Damn it, Old Harvey, are you crazy? Just because someone else is a fool doesn't mean you have to be! A couple of bets for fun is one thing, but you're going big!"

Harvey ignored the advice. With only one minute left, he urged the owner, "What are you waiting for? Hurry!"

The owner understood at once what was happening and quickly printed the thousand-bet ticket. After the pressure of Ethan's half-million, printing a thousand felt easy.

But he didn't hand the ticket to Harvey. He tucked it into the counter drawer instead.

"Damn it!" Harvey cursed.

But the owner was astonishingly fast. In the last few seconds, he still managed to hand Harvey another thousand-bet ticket.

"Mr. Dawson, have you lost your mind too?" someone asked.

The owner's name was Dawson, and the question came from a regular customer.

"Hehe, it doesn't matter. I made a big profit today, so I'm just having a little fun!" the owner laughed.

The players nodded quietly. He had made so much today that those numbers were practically his lucky ones. What was wrong with spending two thousand dollars for fun?

Then everyone turned to Harvey, wanting to hear his reasons.

Harvey smiled, paid the owner by phone, and said mysteriously, "Ever heard of the legendary 'Director'?"

The players suddenly understood. Of course. Without the Director behind him, who would dare do this? Spending a million on one set of numbers meant you were either a fool or a tycoon. And judging by that young man's calm expression, he was no fool.

The moment they realized it, regret washed over them. It felt like they had just let a fortune slip through their fingers.

…………

Ethan had already driven back to his apartment. He knew nothing of what happened at the shop afterward, and he didn't care.

He could guess that some of those players had followed his lead, but so what? He had bet five hundred thousand times. How much could they add? It was a light drizzle that wouldn't hurt his storm of a jackpot.

In truth, there was no need to bet this much on a prize pool of just over two hundred million. But he had no choice. In his past life, the winner had bought over fifty thousand bets, which diluted each winning bet to less than $5,000. If he wanted the lion's share, he had to raise his multiplier.

Over the past few days, he had checked his memories against reality and confirmed that everything after his rebirth was still following the original course.

But right now, he was still a little worried. More than an hour remained before the draw. If people learned that someone had spent a million dollars on one ticket, would the drawn numbers still be the ones from his past life?

With a mix of anxiety and anticipation, the time finally came. It was 9:15 p.m.

Ethan stared wide-eyed at the live draw on the screen.

"Forty, forty-one, forty-two... sixty-five!"

"Yes!" Ethan shouted with joy.

He had won! He had won the first prize with a ticket worth five hundred thousand bets!

The details came out soon after. This round had more than 507,500 winning tickets. Because the bonus distribution rule was triggered, each winning ticket received only $441. It was the lowest first prize in history.

But Ethan had bought five hundred thousand of them, so he still swept most of the prize pool and took home a massive $220 million.

And according to the rules, no tax applied to a single-bet prize below $10,000. That meant Ethan didn't owe a single cent in tax on his $220 million. He would receive every dollar.