Jackpot
I scanned the status window, one translucent line at a time—the kind of thing that only ever showed up in novels.
“What is this...?”
What on earth had happened to me?
A side effect of the medication?
They were psychiatric prescriptions, so it was entirely possible.
But nothing like this had ever happened before. Why now?
I reached out and tried to grab the half-transparent pane with my fingers, but it slipped right through them.
And then it vanished.
Abilities are activated by calling out the ability's name.
That was when the bus began to murmur.
When I turned around, the passengers were stealing glances at me—and the moment their eyes met mine, they snapped their heads away.
“Don't look, Mom. That man's crazy.”
“I know, sweetie.”
One mother pressed both hands over her child's eyes.
“.......
My reflection in the window was a sorry sight.
No wonder—there I was, muttering at thin air and gesturing with my hands like a madman. To them, that was exactly what I was.
I jabbed the stop button in a panic.
I still had ten more stops to go, but who cared. The moment the doors opened, I bolted off the bus like I was running for my life.
Standing at the bus stop, I pinched my own cheek.
It hurt.
Damn it...
So it wasn't a dream. Which meant I had to decide—believe this, or not.
If this really was one of those gift-like abilities from novels, it would be a jackpot of a lifetime. If not, it was back to the psychiatrist for me.
Only one way to find out.
I walked into the lottery shop next to the bus stop.
“One auto-pick ticket, please.”
“That'll be a thousand won.”
I pulled a bill from my wallet—and then froze. Wait. Use the ability first, idiot.
“Jackpot!”
‘Jackpot’ is being used.
And in that same instant—
A wave of warmth washed over my entire body, wrapping me from head to toe.
“Here you go.”
“Thanks.”
I stepped out of the shop and checked my numbers.
Six digits, chosen automatically: 4, 8, 12, 15, 19, 20.
So these were supposed to win?
I hesitated, then walked back into the shop. All the cash I had on me was five thousand won.
4, 8, 12, 15, 19, 20.
I filled out the same numbers on five more slips.
If the ability was real, that would be first place—times six.
Saturday night, 8:35 p.m.
I turned on the TV and laid my lottery slips on the table. The six numbers written there seemed to glow, shimmering under the living room light.
“The Lotto 6/45 drawing will now begin.”
The announcer's familiar voice. My heart picked up speed for no good reason.
The sound of balls rolling out of the machine and colliding drifted softly through the TV speakers.
“Number 4... Number 8... Number 12...”
My eyes widened on their own.
“Number 15... Number 19... and the final number is... Number 20.”
For a moment, I couldn't think at all.
The numbers assembled themselves in the on-screen captions: 4, 8, 12, 15, 19, 20.
I lowered my head.
There they were, on the slips in front of me—the same numbers, lined up perfectly.
Monday morning, I pushed through the crowds flooding the commute and headed for the NongHyup Bank headquarters.
I'd taken a day off from work. Nothing in the world mattered more than this.
I'd tucked the slips deep into my wallet and checked on them every few minutes, terrified of losing them.
First prize in the Lotto.
Six of them.
Prize money: 1,258,554,500 won each.
Six tickets.
7,551,327,000 won before tax.
5,059,389,090 won after tax.
I hadn't slept a wink all night. I refreshed the website dozens upon dozens of times, but the numbers never changed.
Five billion won, after tax. Money I'd never have touched in a lifetime was suddenly sitting in my hands.
My feet stopped at the entrance of the bank.
Should I wear a hat? Sunglasses? A face mask?
Then a hollow laugh escaped me. “I'd just end up looking suspicious.”
In the end, I pulled a single baseball cap down low and walked in. The doors slid open on their own and a gust of air conditioning rolled out to meet me.
It's fine.
One deep breath, and I approached the teller near the counter.
“Um... I'm here about a lottery win.”
She stared at me blankly at first—then her expression changed in an instant.
“Don't tell me... first prize?”
I pressed my lips together and gave a wordless nod.
“Ah—yes! Right this way, please. You'll need to go up to the third floor.”
My heart pounded the whole way up in the elevator. When the doors opened on the third floor, a bank employee was already waiting for me.
Dressed in a crisp suit, she greeted me with a smile. “Congratulations, sir.”
“Ah, thank you...”
While I was still smiling awkwardly, I handed over my ID and the lottery slips. She tilted her head.
“Six tickets? All of them?”
“Yes. All six are first prize.”
Her eyes widened slightly. “Wow... What kind of dream did you have?”
I ducked my head with a laugh. “Who knows? I just hope this one isn't a dream.”
A thick stack of paperwork sat on the table. The name written on the signature line made it all feel real.
As the employee organized the documents, she spoke. “After taxes, your winnings come to roughly five billion won. Please write down the account you'd like the deposit made to.”
I opened a NongHyup account, confirmed the deposit had gone through, then brushed off an endless parade of financial product pitches and headed back out.
“I'm a banker myself, so I hope you'll understand.”
“Oh, you work at a bank?”
“Yes, at Daehan Bank. I'll just leave it in a basic checking account for now.”
I drifted into a small café for a cup of coffee.
“Ahh. Sweet.”
Since when was an americano this sweet? I hadn't added a single packet of sugar, and yet it tasted like syrup.
The balance printed on my bankbook: five billion won.
Whether or not to hand in my resignation—my head was a tangled mess. In place of the self-loathing I chewed over every morning on the way to work, a strange sense of liberation came flooding in.
So this... is what it feels like when your whole life changes.
But after that, the system went quiet. No alerts, no messages—nothing.
The one thing I knew for certain was that that square hologram was real. It hadn't been some hallucination cooked up by medication.
Then, the display I'd been waiting for materialized before my eyes.
[Tutorial completed successfully.]
[The game begins now.]
[Please check your Status Window.]
The words left my mouth before I even thought about it.
“Status Window.”
“Abilities: None...?”
I read the words on the screen again. Ah, right. Jackpot had been a one-time thing.
So how was I supposed to get new abilities?
The moment I started wondering, a fresh message appeared before my eyes.
Player Kim Dong-su's occupation is Office Worker.
Abilities will unlock based on days worked.
The first ability will unlock after one week of work—40 working hours.
“What did it just say...?”
I stared blankly at the screen for a long moment—then burst out laughing.
Of all the occupations in the world, office worker.
I'd been seriously contemplating quitting my job, and now the system was telling me I had to keep going to work if I ever wanted my abilities to unlock?