Wang Dingshan glanced at the clock on the wall behind him.
“Hurry, hurry, hurry, invest. It’s almost twenty-four hours now.”
Even in a time-sequence expansion area, the clock and Lele’s special ability calculated time based on the expanded duration, so every twenty-four hours counted as a new day.
23:58:49
Yang Zicang had already started investing.
[I will consume 1N to exchange for a Sheet-Ding-Shan Scratch Card (Special Evil).]
[I have already consumed 1N of principal.]
The Demonic Nightmare, looking like thick paper, blinked once, then slowly spat out a translucent energy light card woven from fine red zigzag lines.
“Hurry, hurry, hurry.” Yang Zicang also urged from by the door.
He glanced again at the time on the wall; it was already at fifty-nine minutes and thirty seconds. Finally, at just over thirty seconds off, the light card drifted lightly into Yang Zicang’s hand. He had never been so nervous. Having such bad luck today, it should be right to scratch off “Thank You for Your Patronage.”
In this way, from a probabilistic standpoint, the odds of scratching up “Thank You for Your Patronage” tomorrow would be reduced.
And tomorrow—it was nearly here!
Wang Dingshan turned his head to check the time, speaking nervously: “I’ve scratched over a thousand tickets, but I’m rarely this anxious. Hurry up!”
Yang Zicang’s fingernails scraped across the coating of the lottery ticket with a scratchy sound.
The dull red coating shimmered with needle-like folds, simulating a pixel-like effect as when the coating is scraped off.
Wang Dingshan looked at the time.
23:59:52
“There’s a word! Hey, scrape harder!”
Scratch Card’s eyelids drooped as it watched Yang Zicang’s movements.
Wang Dingshan glanced at the scratch ticket, tapped his feet lightly, and turned to look at the wall.
23:59:58
“Time’s up!”
“Better luck next time!”
Yang Zicang gasped, holding the ticket aloft as he raised his head to see the time.
0:0:0
“Haha, just a second before midnight. How thrilling! Come on, come on, we can start over now.”
{I’ve learned, I’ll try this trick again next time.}
The excitement fading, Wang Dingshan looked at Yang Zicang and grew suspicious: “Hey, what’s wrong with you?”
“……”
Yang Zicang swung the discarded scratch ticket in his hand, noticing it gradually turning translucent.
“A new day has begun. Come on, like you said, let me have another scratch.”
“You… you haven’t, have you?” Wang Dingshan pointed a finger at his own head: “Gone mad from Croft’s brainwashing.”
“You’re the one who’s mad. Quick, give me another one, I’m starting to invest now.”
A fold of light flashed across Yang Zicang’s chest.
[I will consume 1N for a Ticket Ding Shan Luck Blast.]
The demonic nightmare spirit like thick paper spat out a semi-translucent card of energy again, slot by slot.
Lele turned its gaze and spoke eschatologically as if foreseeing:
{Should be better than yesterday.}
Wang Dingshan chuckled as he looked at Yang Zicang clutching tightly to the Scratch Card:
“You’re an old customer who’s been here over seven times now, my little darling has made a prophecy for you. It can improve your luck to a certain degree.”
“Then I’m really grateful.”
If not for the distinctive appearance of this thing, Yang Zicang would have reached out to pat its “head.”
“Scratch scratch,” his nails scraped back and forth.
— Third Prize.
— Congratulations! You’ve earned a chance to scratch again for free.
— Today, your allotted attempts are used up. Please try again tomorrow.
“……”
Yang Zicang looked at the winning ticket.
With each passing day, the possibility of relying on their own strength to construct the “Demon Hero Palace” as envisioned became even more elusive.
He let out a sigh: “I guess that thought of mine was probably just an illusion that popped up in my mind.”
Obviously, thinking about it, the Demon Hero Palace was such a massive structure—how could a brat like him possibly finish it in a month or two?
Wang Dingshan glanced at him:
“Not bad. Get some rest early. Try again tomorrow.”
“Yeah, okay.”
He slept straight through until daytime. Yang Zicang was again pinned down by Croft, tasked with arranging all sorts of things throughout the Demon Hero Palace.
Once midnight passed, he sought out Lele to start a new day’s Scratch Card.
“A second prize, huh.”
He tossed the lottery ticket, and it dissolved into light.
Back in his room, Yang Zicang muttered to himself:
[I think, although Zorro’s whereabouts have been discovered and we can’t relay information about that hub town, we can at least build the ether tunnel engine.]
As long as he doesn’t possess the coordinates of that town, this engine’s construction method can only be considered Zorro’s personal ability.
A zigzag line shot over.
{How was it today?}
“Second prize, I guess my luck is above average.”
{Zicang, even if you draw the grand prize to anchor your luck and maximize the probability of advancement, I still can’t tell you what the formula is.}
On the other side of the sensory projection, Zorro felt a bit sheepish. After all, this guy had silently cooperated with him to get here without even meeting everyone else face to face. Now that he had actually obtained the engine formula and the coordinates of Dark Gold Hub Town, he couldn’t share them with him.
“You don’t need to tell me.” Yang Zicang said confidently.
{No need? Then what’s the plan? I contacted a lot of people today and finally found out about the manual workshop; I’m having someone check if we can borrow it.}
Yang Zicang let out a light laugh and said, “Workshop? Ha, no need for that. It’s useless to you. I’m going to build an automatic workshop myself.”
{Automatic type!}
Zorro slightly parted his lips, thought for a moment, then revealed an understanding smile.
{I see.}
This kid really was his right-hand man! Zorro couldn’t help but feel a sense of finding hope in a desperate situation.
Although this transmission of intel was a different matter, at least… things were still moving forward.
As long as it moves forward, maybe it’ll touch the way out!
Zorro clenched his fist and said once more, brimming with vigor:
{In that case, the one who needs to scratch tickets next should be me, right?}
Yang Zicang smiled and nodded.
……
“Boboli, perhaps the heavens also believe that your existence can bring hope for more lives. Hoo~”
Yang Zicang stood up and looked toward his bedroom—if he were to etch magic runes all around this place, he’d have to move a lot of things out of the way.
“The key to a handwork shed isn’t really the building itself, so I don’t actually need that large a room. In reality, what’s called an automatic work shed is merely a small space stable enough to hold an alchemy ritual.”
His gaze fell on the bathroom door.
Once again, a folded line flashed across Yang Zicang’s chest.
“We haven’t got time during the day; we’ll have to work through the night. Come over and help out, and grab some wooden boards while you’re at it.”
Soon, under the odd looks of the occasional passersby in the hallway, Zorro was busy carrying chairs, tables, and stools back and forth from his own room.
Yang Zicang also dismantled his own desk, clattering and banging it into relatively flat boards, then began inscribing segments of magic runes on them with his silver spear.
In the past, doing this kind of work would have been a major undertaking, several days’ worth of effort.
But now, with temporary possession of the “Right of Mental Manifestation,” once those magic runes came back to his mind, the dizziness they used to bring simply disappeared.
Perhaps the rank of magic runes was as high as that of three or four rings in the Cycle of Blood. But under this “Right of Mental Manifestation”—whose rank was unknown—the runes’ “protective layer” vanished completely.
So today, my luck is meant to create this! I must flawlessly carve out the intricate lines of the magic pattern all at once.
Thump! Bang!
Zorro arrives; the two of them hammer at the wooden planks, leaving the room in total disarray.
At around six or seven o’clock in the “morning,” Zorro and Yang Zicang sit on the floor with their legs stretched out, leaning back on their hands to catch their breath.
They exchange a glance and both let out a few laughs.
“Half of the magic pattern is done. As expected of an automatic alchemy array; it’s like having thousands of treasure boxes placed out.”
“We’ll continue when my shift ends in the afternoon.”
Zorro rubs his face, “Take a rest. I’m heading back to freshen up and report to Sister Huan.”
“Okay.”
……
In the evening, Wang Dingshan has just returned to his room when a knock suddenly sounds.
“Hmm?” He glances at the clock—just past nine. “So early today?”
Pulling open the door, he sees Zorro’s figure standing at the entrance.
Wang Dingshan leans against the doorway, rubbing his chin as he sizes up this relatively well-built young man.
“Something’s off with you two.”
“Save the talk. Just check how my luck is today.”
[I received a Dingshan scratch card.]
As his fingers are about to start scratching, Wang Dingshan says, “Hold on.”
Zorro looks up at him. The man solemnly spreads open his palms:
“You two are definitely up to something. If you can spare me a millennium sequence, I’ll give you the most thorough prophecy possible.”
Zorro glances at the clock inside the room.
9:23:39
Instead of answering, he flashed a broken line to link with Yang Zicang.
[How much longer do you need?]
{Almost there!}
In the sensory feed image, Yang Zicang clenched a nail between his teeth, then swung a hammer onto the nail cap against a wooden plank.
Bang! It was set tight into the wood.
“Phew… Done.”
Letting out a breath, Yang Zicang stepped down from the wooden block used as a support and planted one foot onto the wooden floor, which let out a hollow thud.
Once again, he gave the washroom—now fitted with a simple wooden frame—a careful look.
The planks, adorned with enchanted patterns and carved magic marks, pressed against the wall between the wooden strips, causing almost no damage to the room itself.
Seeing that Yang Zicang had finished engraving all the remaining pieces, Zuo Luo guessed he must have used his lunch break to craft those magic rune formations.
After breaking the mental link, Zuo Luo turned to Wang Dingshan and flashed a broken line again.
……
“That annoying guy didn’t have dinner again!”
Under the smiling greetings of passersby, Jiaoma, holding a lunchbox, puffed her cheeks and arrived at the room’s doorstep.
She glanced at the door panel decorated with a smiley face, then balled her pink fist and banged down hard.
“Open up! I know you’re in there!”
Click—the door cracked open a sliver.
Yang Zicang’s half-defined profile emerged, with one eye taking a quick scan.
“I already ate.”
“Liar.”
Jiaoma pressed her shoulder against the door, trying to squeeze in, and the helpless Yang Zicang had no choice but to let her enter.
“Let me tell you, today I specially learned how to make carrot soup—”
Her little face showed a stunned expression as she looked at the room, which looked like it had been ravaged by a typhoon.
She glanced at the three lunch boxes cradled in her arms, then at where the table used to be—now empty, with only dust and wood shavings covering the floor.
The young girl’s mouth slightly parted, her incredulous gaze shifting to Yang Zicang’s face.
“Are you wrecking the place again?”
“I…”
“You… you did this because you couldn’t vent your frustration, didn’t you? Zicang…”
“Uh, huh?”
“When you’re under a lot of pressure in the future, you wouldn’t end up hitting your wife or anything, would you?”
“……”
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