My brother-in-law, Timmy Lynch, racks up 50 million dollars of illegal gambling debt but leaves my contact information behind.

By the time the interest snowballs to 100 million dollars, the debt collectors show up at my doorstep.

After I persuade them to leave, my wife, Celia Lynch, and my mother-in-law, Meryl Unwin, finally come out of the room.

Celia's face is pale as she says, "Let's get divorced. I'd rather leave with nothing. Your gambling debts are your own problem, so don't even think about dragging me into this."

No matter how many times I explain that it was Timmy who bet on an underdog team and lost, she refuses to believe me.

Meryl even slaps me across the face and roars, "Not only are you trying to trick my daughter into paying your debt, but you're also slandering my son? Listen to me, Celia—divorce him immediately!"

Then, she turns to me and says, "I might as well tell you the truth now. Celia is pregnant, and the baby's father is your buddy. Just give up already and sign the divorce papers."

Wait, what? I literally just won a 100-million-dollar prize from winning a World Soccer Tournament bet last night. I was going to ask if they need help covering Timmy's debt. How did this suddenly turn into a full-on divorce?

Fine, then. They can pay back his massive debt themselves.

"See you at the courthouse entrance tomorrow morning at 9:00 am. Whoever doesn't show up is a coward," I said.

My wife, Celia Lynch, froze for a moment, clearly not expecting me to agree so readily.

In her opinion, a loser like me, who ran a tiny lottery shop and scraped by on hard-earned money every month, should have dropped to my knees and cried pitifully the moment I heard her bring up divorce.

Celia's mother, Meryl Unwin, spat at my feet and mocked, "Stop trying to act tough. Do you think you can shake us off just by agreeing to divorce?"

She took out a piece of paper and a pen from beneath the coffee table.

Meryl went on, "Sign this debt assumption agreement. Put it in black and white that you, Zac Lorenz, are the one who incurred the gambling debt of 100 million dollars. State clearly that it has absolutely nothing to do with Celia!"

I glanced at the document and found it ridiculous.

Celia's useless bum of a younger brother, Timmy Lynch, loafed around all day. He somehow got involved in some illegal overseas betting. To make matters worse, he mindlessly placed a 50-million bet on a near-impossible outcome—that Sharderm would defeat Acontia, contrary to expectations.

Obviously, he lost and racked up a huge debt. And when the loan sharks had come knocking, Celia and Meryl shamelessly expected me to take the fall for everything.

I crumpled the paper into a ball and tossed it into the trash can in one swift move while retorting, "The one who worked up a debt is Timmy. Go ask him to settle it. If you want a divorce, fine. But if you think I'm taking the blame, dream on."

Celia's expression became contorted with rage. She rushed over in a few quick steps and dug her manicured nails hard into my arm.

She seethed, "Do you have no shame at all? Timmy is a level-headed and sensible person. How could he possibly get involved with underground betting? You're the one running a lottery shop. You spend your time around gamblers all day long! You must've embezzled money to gamble yourself!

"Now that you've lost 100 million dollars, you want to drag our whole family down with you, is that it?"

I looked coldly at her hysterical expression.

In our three years of marriage, I had gotten up early and worked until late hours every single day at that tiny lottery shop that was barely 200 square feet. Every cent I earned went straight into her hands.

And what did she do? She had used my hard-earned money to buy luxury goods for Edwin Grant. Now, she was even pregnant with his baby.

I slowly pried her fingers off my arm.

Then I spoke in a tone so calm that even I was surprised. "Go verify with Timmy whether he is truly as sensible as you think. As for the divorce, I'll gladly fulfill your wish to be with Edwin."

Seeing that I refused to sign, Meryl stormed into the bedroom and started smashing things like a crazy woman.

She screeched, "You ungrateful bastard! You've been living off us, and now you want to walk away just like that? So you won't sign, huh? In that case, I'll go make a scene at your crappy shop today! Let's see how you'll continue to do business after that!"

She grabbed her Hermès bag and headed straight for the door.

Celia followed closely behind, sneering with a contemptuous expression. "Trash like you who toil at the bottom of society can only ever be a pathetic owner of that dump of a shop. Once Edwin gets here, let's see if you can still act so tough!"

With that, they stormed out of the apartment.

I stood in the wrecked living room and took a deep breath.

Just then, the phone in my pocket vibrated. It was a confirmation text from the Lottery Center. They reminded me to hold on to the lottery ticket that had won 120 million dollars and to go to the city center as soon as possible to claim the prize.

I touched the slip of paper hidden in my inner pocket.

Since they were so eager to seal their doomed fate, I might as well help them along. I locked the door and took a cab straight to my lottery shop.

The moment I reached the street corner, I heard shouting and cursing.

Meryl stood in front of my shop holding a megaphone and speaking loudly into it. "Come take a look, everyone! The owner of this shop, Zac Lorenz, is a gambling addict who embezzled money to take part in illegal betting! He owes the loan sharks 100 million dollars! Now, he's dragging his wife and child down with him!"

My regular customers, who had been inside checking the number charts, were all stunned. They gathered at the entrance, pointing and whispering.

Celia stood off to the side with reddened eyes. She was livestreaming with her phone.

In a pitiful voice, she said to the screen, "Guys, this is the shop owned by my heartless husband. I'd rather leave this marriage with nothing than stay with him. Ladies, please be a better judge of character and never marry a gambler like him."

I pushed through the crowd and strode into the shop.

When Meryl saw me, she behaved even more unreasonably instead of toning down. She grabbed a lucky cat ornament from the counter and smashed it viciously at the television on the wall.

The screen shattered instantly with a loud crash.

"The TV you just destroyed was worth 800 dollars. I'll be calling the police and demanding full compensation," I said coldly.

"Go on, then! Call the cops! You owe 100 million to the loan sharks. If the police come, they'll arrest you first, you fraudster!" Meryl shot back angrily.

She stood with her hands on her hips and turned toward the crowd watching the spectacle.

She raised her voice and continued, "Everybody here, listen up! This good-for-nothing here lost 100 million gambling on soccer, and now he's trying to scam me, his mother-in-law, out of 800 dollars! A heartless scumbag like him should go to hell!'

Whispers immediately spread through the crowd. Even a few older men who regularly bought lottery tickets at my shop started shooting me judgmental glances.

"He always seemed pretty honest. Who knew he'd gamble so recklessly?"

"Well, you never know. 100 million dollars, huh? He's going to rot in prison for that."

Celia held up her phone and pointed the camera straight at me.

Comments flooded into the livestream in an endless torrent. The people on the internet insulted me, saying I was a scumbag, an addict, and a pathetic loser.

Celia sniffled softly and said, "Zac, I didn't come here today to fight with you. As long as you sign that debt assumption agreement and admit that the 100 million dollars is your personal debt, I'll leave immediately and never bother you again.

"I'm pregnant right now. I really can't handle you tormenting me like this anymore."

After saying that, she deliberately jutted her stomach out a little, which instantly drew another wave of sympathy and donations in the livestream.

Watching her disgusting performance made my stomach churn.

I mocked, "You're carrying Edwin's child. If you can't handle the stress, go find him. Why come to my shop and put on an act?"

My voice wasn't loud, but it was enough for everyone around us—and everyone in the livestream—to hear what I said clearly.

The crowd fell silent for a second before gossiping even louder.

Celia's expression stiffened instantly, and panic flashed across her eyes.

Still, she quickly composed herself with tears streaming down her face. "Y-You're just trying to shirk from responsibility. That's why you slandered me! What kind of a man are you? You're the one who couldn't perform, and now you're accusing me unfairly!"

Meryl lost it upon hearing that. She charged at me, clawing at my clothes.

She screeched, "You heartless bastard! You're the infertile one, and you still dare throw dirt on Celia?"

Just then, an anxious voice came from outside the crowd.

"Zac? What's the matter? What's going on here?"

I turned sharply and saw my mother, Darla Ford, carrying a thermal container as she pushed her way through the crowd. She had gone to the hospital for a blood pressure checkup today. So, she decided she'd stop by to bring me some soup she'd made.

The moment she saw the wrecked shop and the shattered television on the floor, her hands started trembling in panic.

"Meryl, we're in-laws. We can always talk it out if there's an issue. How can you damage the shop?" Mom hurried forward to grab Meryl's hand.

Meryl desperately needed a release for all the pent-up anger she was harboring. The moment she saw Mom, she sneered and shook her hand off forcefully.

Derisively, she said, "In-laws? Look at what your son did! He owes the loan sharks 100 million dollars and wants to drag Celia along to pay it for him!"

Mom froze, and her face turned deathly pale. "What? 100 million? Zac, what's going on?"

I quickly stepped forward to support her and lowered my voice to explain, "Mom, don't listen to her nonsense. It's Timmy's debt. It has nothing to do with me."

Celia refused to let it go.

Holding up her phone, she shoved the camera into Mom's face rudely while exclaiming, "Take a good look, everyone! This is the gambler's mother. Like mother, like son. It's no wonder she raised such a scumbag!"

The phone's flash was so bright that Mom could barely open her eyes. Her body trembled uncontrollably.

"Please stop this, Celia. Zac doesn't have any vices—he doesn't even smoke! How could he possibly gamble? Aren't you pregnant? Let's sit down and talk calmly. It's not good for the baby if you're so riled up," Mom pleaded earnestly, still full of concern about the baby in her belly.

Upon hearing that, a cruel smile played on Celia's lips.

She leaned close to Mom and lowered her voice to slowly say, "I'll tell you the truth, old hag. The baby in my belly was never your son's. It's the child of his buddy, Edwin Grant. Your family's lineage is doomed to die out, and you deserve it!"

Mom's eyes widened. Her lips trembled violently, and strange rattling sounds came from her throat. She clutched her chest, gasping for air as her face instantly turned a dark purplish red.

"Mom? What's wrong, Mom?" I panicked and caught Mom as her body swayed weakly.

Meryl rolled her eyes and mocked sarcastically from the side, "Oh, please, what kind of dying act is this? Are you trying to scam us?"

She reached out and shoved Mom hard again. "Hurry up and get lost! Stop getting in the way!"

That shove was the last straw that broke the camel's back.

Mom's eyes rolled back, and her body collapsed limply to the ground. The thermal container fell from her hands, and the soup inside it spilled all over the floor.

"Mom!" I cried.

My eyes widened with panic as I dropped to my knees and desperately tried to revive her.

Someone in the crowd shouted, "Call an ambulance! The old lady passed out!"

Even then, Celia showed not the slightest trace of guilt. Instead, she stepped back and continued playing the victim toward the camera.

"Guys, did you see that? Their whole family is working together to put on a show to intimidate me, a pregnant woman," she claimed shamelessly.

Just as I waited in despair for the ambulance, an extremely flashy Porsche Panamera screeched to a stop in front of the shop.

The car door opened, and Edwin stepped out wearing a custom-tailored suit and sunglasses, looking incredibly smug. He walked over to Celia and naturally wrapped an arm around her waist. Then, he kissed her on the forehead.

He looked down at me, who was kneeling on the floor, and casually pulled out several stacks of 100-dollar bills from his pocket to throw them in my face.

"As your friend, don't say I didn't help you. Take that money and use it to pay for your mom's treatment. As for the rest, consider it my gift for buying formula for the baby in Celia's belly," Edwin said.

The bills smacked against my face and scattered into the spilled soup on the floor. All the grease from the soup got onto them.

I stared intently at Edwin's arrogant face. My fists clenched so tightly that my knuckles cracked, and my nails dug deep into my palms.

The siren of the ambulance grew louder in the distance, piercing through the noise on the street.

"Move aside! Everyone move aside!"

The medics rushed in carrying a stretcher and quickly began administering emergency treatment to Mom.

"Her blood pressure is critically high, and her heartbeat is irregular. We must get her to the hospital immediately!" the doctor shouted with a grave expression.

I couldn't spare any attention for Edwin or Celia anymore. I scrambled after the stretcher and climbed into the ambulance.

As the doors shut, I looked through the window and saw Edwin flashing a victory sign at the livestream camera. Celia leaned against his chest, smiling.

At the hospital in the city center, outside the emergency operating room doors, the glowing red sign above weighed heavily on my heart. I sat on the freezing plastic chair, still covered in greasy soup stains.

The attending physician walked out holding a critical condition notice and spoke in an urgent tone. "The patient suffered a severe cerebral hemorrhage. She needs immediate cranial surgery. For the surgery and ICU expenses afterward, you need to pay a 20-thousand-dollar deposit first."

I shot to my feet, my hands trembling as I accepted the thin sheet of paper.

20 thousand dollars...

All my savings were with Celia. She had also changed the password for the card linked to my bank account to which my earnings were paid.

At that moment, aside from the lottery ticket worth 120 million dollars hidden in my inner pocket, I couldn't even scrape together 200 dollars.

Claiming the prize money would take time. Even if they were quick, I wouldn't get the money until tomorrow.

Grinding my teeth, I pulled out my phone and started calling relatives and friends I'd once been close to.

"Hello, Uncle Will. Mom is suffering from a brain hemorrhage. I urgently need 20 thousand dollars for her surgery. Could you lend me some money first?"

There was silence on the other end for three seconds before Will Lorenz's cold voice came through.

"Zac, it's not that I don't want to help. It's just… Celia was livestreaming earlier. She said you owe loan sharks 100 million dollars. What little money we have wouldn't be enough for you. You should figure something out yourself…"

In the next second, a long beep rang out. He had mercilessly hung up on me.

I made seven or eight more calls in a row and received almost identical answers every time.

Celia's livestream hadn't just ruined my reputation. It had severed every social connection I had.

I had run out of options. Just as I was about to swallow my pride and turn to loan sharks, the sound of high heels clicking against the floor echoed from the end of the hallway.

Celia walked toward me holding a selfie stick while speaking to the livestream camera. Meryl and Edwin followed closely behind her.

She said, "Guys, I'm at the hospital right now. No matter what, his mom ended up here because of him. As her former daughter-in-law, I should still pay her a visit."

Celia stopped in front of me and pointed the camera at my exhausted face while asking, "Zac, I heard the old hag needs to undergo surgery. But then, you don't have any money to pay the deposit. Is that right?"

She pulled a bank card from her Hermès bag and waved it in front of my eyes. "There's 30 thousand dollars on this card. It's the money you handed over to me for safekeeping these past two years.

"As long as you kneel in front of the camera right now and sign the debt assumption agreement to admit that the 100-million-dollar debt is yours, I'll pay the surgery fees for you immediately."

I lifted my head and stared coldly at the woman I had once deeply loved. It was clear she had no regard for the dying woman inside the operating room. She kept calling her "old hag" without any respect.

"Celia, that's the money I earned," I said in a hoarse voice.

"It's mine now," she said, lifting her chin arrogantly. "You hid the debt from me. That makes you the guilty party in our marriage. That money is to compensate me for the emotional damage."

Meryl chimed in from the side, "Exactly! My daughter spent three years with you. You should be grateful she didn't ask you for compensation for wasting her youth."

Edwin stepped forward and let out a sigh. "Zac, don't be so selfish. Your mother is lying in there waiting for the money that can save her life. Can't you let go of your pride just once? What matters more—your pride, or your mother's life?"

A flurry of livestream comments poured in instantly.

"My gosh! Celia is too kind. She's still willing to fork out money at a time like this."

"That guy is disgusting. To avoid paying back the debt, he doesn't even care whether his own mother lives or dies."

"Just sign it already! Don't delay the old lady's surgery!"

The three of them used the most righteous excuses to crucify me on moral grounds.

I looked at the bank card in Celia's hand, and then at the tightly shut operating room doors.

If I didn't have that lottery ticket… If I really were just an ordinary lottery shop owner… My only option right now would be to kneel down, sign the papers, and helplessly take on a debt of 100 million dollars. But what other choice did I have?

I took a deep breath, and my hand slowly slipped into my inner pocket.

Just as my fingertips brushed against the edge of the lottery ticket, the operating room doors suddenly swung open.

A nurse hurried out and said, "Is Darla Ford's family here? An anonymous donor has already paid the full 50-thousand-dollar deposit for the surgery and hospitalization fees. We will start the surgery immediately!"

Celia's hand that was holding the selfie stick froze midair.

Meryl and Edwin looked at each other. The smug expressions on their faces froze.

I slowly withdrew my hand and looked at them icily. "Take your filthy money and get out of the hospital."