Chapter 1
Our family was so poor that we could barely afford meals, yet the lottery ticket I bought on a whim won me five million dollars.
My little sister’s eyes were red as she rushed over, snatched the ticket, and tried to tear it apart.
Dad, who usually doted on me the most, suddenly held a kitchen knife to my neck and snarled, “If you don’t tear up that damn ticket, I’ll chop off your hand today.”
Even Mom, bedridden and waiting for money to save her life, struggled weakly to sit up and cried out in panic, “Son, you can’t go claim the prize.”
To stop me from cashing in the winnings, my family tied me up and locked me in the basement–along with a ravenous wolfhound.
In the end, that beast mauled me to death.
When I opened my eyes again, I was back on the very day I won the lottery.
Rosie was holding two steamed buns, her eyes shining with a warm smile as she handed them to me. “Brother, once our family has money, we can buy you your favorite beef buns.”
“By the way, did your lottery ticket win?” she asked.
Her concerned voice snapped me back to reality.
Looking down at the familiar ticket in my hand, I knew for sure–I had been given a second chance. I was reborn on the day I won the lottery.
In my previous life, I occasionally bought lottery tickets, and my whole family holds onto the hope that one day I would hit the jackpot and we could finally live a better life.
Our entire household depended on my wages from moving bricks at construction sites. Last month, I was accidentally crushed by heavy equipment and injured my leg. So the family’s only source of income was cut off.
Rosie’s tuition was still unpaid.
Dad, who worked as a security guard, had accidentally damaged his employer’s luxury car and now owed a huge compensation fee.
Mom was suffering from uremia, desperately waiting for money to continue her treatment.
We struggled just to have enough food; every meal, we counted grains of rice before cooking.
Yesterday, I dreamed of a set of lottery numbers. As soon as I woke up, I went straight to the lottery store and bought a ticket.
After the draw, I double–checked–and confirmed I’d won first prize.
Excited, I told Rosie, who was in the kitchen steaming buns. But when she took the ticket and looked closely, her smile froze and fear overtook her face. Without a word, she tried to tear it apart.
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I quickly snatched it back, pleading urgently, “Rosie, once we cash in the prize, we’ll have money! You can pay for your tuition, and Mom can afford her treatment!”
But it was like she couldn’t hear me. She fought me desperately for the ticket.
In the chaos, I pushed her lightly, and she staggered backward a few steps.
Her eyes were bloodshot, face twisted in rage as she screamed hoarsely, “Brother, you’re not allowed to claim the prize! Tear up that ticket now!”
Her terrifying expression rooted me to the spot.
Just then, Dad came home.
Seeing me cornered by Rosie, he slapped the back of her head without hesitation. “You brat, bullying your brother again?”
Trembling, Rosie pointed at me, her voice cracking, “He dreamed of a lottery number and bought a ticket that won five million!”
Dad’s anger instantly turned to horror.
His eyes wide and wild, he stormed into the kitchen, grabbed a kitchen knife, and lunged at
- me.
“Tear up that winning ticket now, or I’ll chop you to pieces!”
Just as Dad’s knife was about to come down, Mom rushed in and shielded me.
“Are you crazy? How can you threaten our precious son with a knife?”
Dad sneered coldly. “Julius’s ticket actually won.”
“So what? Julius’s always been lucky, winning small amounts here and there.”
“This is the jackpot–five million dollars.”
Mom, who had just been protecting me, suddenly went pale as if she’d seen a ghost. She shoved me away and shook her head frantically.
“No… no, this can’t happen.”
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