Chapter 312: Breakfast Shop

Chapter 312: Chapter 312: Breakfast Shop

"You! This is impossible! Is there some kind of mistake?" the customer exclaimed, his eyes wide with disbelief.

The crazy old man shuffled closer for a look, but he couldn’t quite make sense of it. "What’s on it?" he asked.

The customer’s mind raced. He quickly masked his emotions. "It’s nothing, just a garbage prize. How about I trade you two Crystal Cores for it?"

The crazy old man only looked unhinged; he wasn’t actually stupid.

He could tell the difference between good and bad. He knew the woman who had just given him food was a good person.

But this man now, with the black aura around him, was obviously a huge villain!

"No trade!" the crazy old man said firmly, frowning. He reached for it, but the man nimbly dodged him.

He lowered his voice and threatened, "You damn lunatic, know what’s good for you. I said I’ll trade you for it! You’ll trade whether you want to or not!"

The crazy old man was stubborn, too. "No trade!" He shoved the man. He might have looked like an old man, but he was surprisingly strong.

Caught off guard, the man fell and landed right on his butt.

Then, the crazy old man agilely snatched the small card back.

He had already been watching and knew what to do. With swift hands, he stuffed the card into the Lucky Cat.

A beam of white light flashed. The man shut his eyes in agony. ’Such a huge prize, why couldn’t it have been mine?!’

The crazy old man’s clear eyes were fixed on the beam of white light until it completely vanished. Lily Hart, who had been sprawled out on the sofa, also saw it and shot up with a jolt.

’Who was it? Did someone hit the jackpot again?!’

Cynthia Whittaker had been copying her and was sprawled out too. Seeing her bolt upright, she thought there was danger and instinctively moved to block her. "What’s wrong?" she asked urgently.

Lily Hart shook her head and gently pushed her aside.

She hurried to the counter and looked outside. The first thing she saw was the crazy old man. In front of him stood a small, colorful building.

It wasn’t large, only about ten square meters, with a flat roof. On the sign were a few large, cartoonish words: Breakfast Nook!

The entire side facing the crazy old man was a door, with an awning extending out over it.

Under the awning was a large table. On the table sat a half-human-height stack of steamers, about eight or nine layers tall, next to a large electric pot and two smaller steamers.

Beside the table was a deep fryer and another small table with a metal bucket on it.

Lily Hart was stunned. ’Two grand prizes in one day? A hot pot restaurant and now a breakfast nook?’

’And the breakfast nook was won by the crazy old man? No, wait, when did he sneak in?!’

But the pressing issue now was to determine if the breakfast nook was a first-place prize.

A first-place prize had to be bound to her, but she really didn’t want to talk to this crazy old man. It felt like trying to reason with a brick wall—utterly hopeless.

It was as if all her strength and wit had abandoned her.

Lily Hart listlessly climbed out of the RV. Cynthia Whittaker followed her step for step. In her eyes, Boss Hart was a helpless damsel who couldn’t even truss a chicken; she had to protect her at all costs!

"Hey, old-timer, did you scratch this off?" Lily Hart asked.

The crazy old man nodded dazedly. He hadn’t expected such a huge prize. His mind was just a whirl of ’what do I do, what do I do, what if my cover is blown...’

She flipped open the prize log. The two words "First Place" were staring her in the face.

Her vision went dark for a moment. She tried her best to explain patiently, "Do you know what winning this means?"

The crazy old man shook his head. How would he know? He just followed his gut and scratched one off. If he had known this would be the result, he absolutely wouldn’t have come.

"It means the breakfast nook can’t be too far from the lottery shop—it has to be within a hundred meters. And you, as the owner of the breakfast nook, have to run this place properly."

The implication was that both he and his breakfast nook were now tied to the lottery shop.

The moment the crazy old man heard that, he thought, ’Isn’t this even worse?’ He shook his head frantically, then shook it again.

He was shaking it so hard it looked like it might fall off.

Lily Hart quickly stopped him. "Stop, stop, stop. What’s this supposed to mean? You’re not willing?" ’Heaven knows I’m not exactly thrilled either!’ she thought. ’But it’s the rule.’

Hearing that, the crazy old man nodded like a chicken pecking at rice. In a hoarse voice, he asked, "Then... can I leave?"

The customer who’d been pushed over by the old man had been observing from the side. Finally seeing his chance, he squeezed in and offered himself up. "I can do it! I can do it."

Lily Hart blurted out, "No, you can’t. You can go play somewhere else."

The customer stood there stunned but had no choice but to step aside, secretly plotting his next chance to butt in.

Lily Hart blocked the crazy old man’s path, her tone turning slightly forceful. "No, you can’t. You’re staying here to run this breakfast nook!"

"No, no, I can’t do it! I’m a madman, how can I run a breakfast nook? No way, no way..."

Seeing her insistence, the crazy old man slipped back into his unhinged persona, babbling incoherently.

Lily Hart knew he wasn’t crazy or stupid, just pretending. ’But what’s strange is, why is he so unwilling to stay and run it? Why does he keep trying to run away?’

’He’s been wandering around outside all this time. Doesn’t he want a place to settle down?’

’Or does he have some unspeakable secret? Or is he just a lifelong lover of freedom? Other survivors would kill for a prize like this, to be set for life.’

But the main point now was that the two of them were already bound. There was no changing it.

It wasn’t a question of whether he wanted to or not.

Lily Hart said patiently, "You can do it, you can do it, you’re the best! It’s very simple. You don’t even have to do anything yourself. This is all high-tech; it’ll produce everything on its own. You won’t even need to show your face."

It was unclear which of her words struck a chord with the crazy old man, but the hand resting on his cloth sack twitched twice.

Lily Hart probed further, "You don’t have to show your face at all. You just have to lie back and collect the money every day."

Sure enough, the crazy old man’s hand twitched twice more. But it was clear he was trying his hardest to suppress his excitement. He looked up, meeting Lily Hart’s sincere, persuasive gaze.

He asked in a low voice, "Really... I don’t have to show my face?"

Lily Hart’s eyes lit up too. She lowered her voice, like they were secret agents making contact. "If you don’t want to, then you really don’t have to."

’But this also confirmed her suspicions. This old man definitely had some other identity. Could it be he was too brazen back in the day, made some enemies, and is now afraid of being discovered?’

’Whatever!’

The crazy old man was clearly tempted. He asked again in a low voice, "Really? I don’t have to?"

Lily Hart nodded emphatically and said patiently, "Really, really, really, you don’t!" With that, she grabbed his cloth sack and pulled him toward the breakfast nook.

Outside the shop, the large table, the iron wok, and the small table were lined up, forming a straight line that served as a sort of unconventional gate.

Going inside, just past the entrance, there was a rice noodle roll machine. The shop itself had several sets of tables and chairs for customers to sit and eat breakfast, and the walls were hung with paper towel rolls, disposable paper cups, and other supplies.

It had a lively, homey feel. At the very back was a small, empty room. Lily Hart pointed to it and said, "If you don’t want to show your face, you can stay in here."

"Really?" the crazy old man asked again, still distrustful.

’Could such a wonderful thing really exist in the world? Winning a grand prize, yet having to do nothing at all.’