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Chapter 11 - Lottery

Just as Jiang Chen was deep in thought, a flicker of movement in his peripheral vision caught his attention—a small lottery shop up ahead.

"That's it!" he muttered, a grin spreading across his face. With his spiritual sense still partially active, Jiang Chen's eyes could see through solid objects. Perfect for—scratch cards.

Humming a cheerful tune, he stepped into the lottery store and made his way to the instant scratch-off section. His eyes narrowed slightly, glimmering with a faint glow as he scanned the tickets like a scanner sweeping a warehouse.

This one's worth 5 yuan. Dud. Another dud… Oh, this one's 20… and this one—1,000 yuan jackpot.

As he was browsing, a punk with yellow-dyed hair nearby scoffed, "Hey bro, all these tickets look the same. Whether you win or not is pure luck. If your luck's bad, no matter how many you pick, it's pointless."

To flaunt his luck, the punk smugly pulled out a 500-yuan winning ticket and flashed it in front of Jiang Chen.

Jiang Chen raised an eyebrow and smirked. "Oh? So your luck's good today?"

"Of course," the punk said proudly, lifting his chin. "Who do you think I am?"

Without missing a beat, Jiang Chen picked up a ticket. "Think this one's worth more than yours."

The punk burst into laughter. "Random pick and you're that confident?"

"Wanna bet?" Jiang Chen asked, calm as ever. "Loser barks like a dog. Three times."

The punk slapped the counter. "Deal!"

Without hesitation, Jiang Chen scratched his ticket. A "1"… followed by "0"… another "0"… and the last one—a fourth "0."

"Boss," Jiang Chen called to the store owner, "can you verify this for me?"

The shopkeeper adjusted his glasses and nearly fell over when he confirmed the prize. "One thousand yuan! It's real!"

The punk's jaw dropped.

Jiang Chen turned to him with a raised brow. "You lost. Time to pay up."

The punk clenched his fists. "Do you know who I am? You're lucky I don't beat you right here!"

The shopkeeper tugged on Jiang Chen's sleeve and whispered, "Young man, you'd best let it go. That guy's name is Blondie. He runs a few streets around here. It's not worth making trouble."

Jiang Chen remained unfazed. "It's fine. I can take care of myself."

He walked over and stood right in front of Blondie. "Last chance. Are you barking or not?"

Blondie tried to throw a punch in rage—but before it landed, he felt a sharp pain in his knee and collapsed onto the floor like a sack of potatoes.

"Still not barking?" Jiang Chen's voice was ice-cold now.

"I—I'll bark!" Blondie whimpered. "Woof! Woof! Woof!"

A father and his little girl, walking past the shop, froze at the scene. The girl burst into tears. The father pulled her away, laughing awkwardly.

Jiang Chen clapped his hands. "Alright, you can get lost."

Blondie scrambled out of the store like a rat escaping a fire. Before disappearing, he turned back and shot a venomous glare. You're dead, kid. I'll make you regret this!

Jiang Chen, meanwhile, scratched off a few more tickets and ended up with a total haul of 14,250 yuan. The shop owner looked ready to cry. He'd never seen anyone win that much in one go.

Jiang Chen wandered to a few other lottery shops around the city, but the results were mediocre. In total, he barely scraped together 50,000 yuan—far short of the nearly 300,000 yuan needed for his alchemy ingredients.

"No good. This method's draining and inefficient," Jiang Chen muttered, massaging his temples. Using X-ray vision too long was a heavy burden on his Primordial Spirit.

Refining top-grade pills will need major funding. I need a new source of income—fast, and less exhausting.

A wild idea passed through his mind.

A nightclub gigolo?

He nearly choked at the thought. If the Burning Sky Realm found out their mighty Immortal Emperor had to work nights in a club, they'd probably laugh themselves into qi deviation.

He chuckled, brushing the idea aside.

Just then, a voice down the street barked out.

"Brother Gou, that's the guy who beat me up!"

It was Blondie—dragging along a tattooed thug with a gold chain and beer belly. Zhao Ergou, a mid-level street boss with a reputation spanning five neighborhoods.

Zhao Ergou eyed Jiang Chen in the distance and scolded, "Blondie, what the hell is this? You can't even take down a high schooler and now you want me to step in? How shameful!"

He was about to walk off when Blondie added, "Brother Gou, that punk won thousands from lottery tickets today."

Zhao Ergou paused. His eyes lit up. "You serious?"

Blondie nodded fervently. "Would I lie to you, Brother Gou?"

Zhao Ergou patted Blondie's shoulder. "Smart. That's what I like to hear. You lie, I break your legs."

He turned to his gang and signaled. "Brothers, we've got ourselves a gold mine today. Let's pay this kid a little visit."

But while they were preparing to mug him, Jiang Chen had already sensed their intent—and he was planning a little something of his own.

He glanced around. This was a busy downtown district with surveillance cameras everywhere. Fighting in public would only draw unnecessary heat.

Then he saw it.

An old, abandoned alleyway nearby.

Perfect.

He pretended to urgently need the restroom and darted into the alley. Sure enough, Zhao Ergou and his men, eyes gleaming, gave chase.

"To think the heavens would deliver him right into our laps!" Zhao Ergou cackled as they ran in.

Little did they know, they weren't chasing prey—they were walking straight into the trap of a former Immortal Emperor.

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