Apocalypse Rebirth: Making Billions With My Fortune-Telling Skill

​April shifted her gaze down to Nat’s lap. Sure enough, his ticket displayed an identical, sweeping match of winning rows.

​The mathematical probability of two scratch-off tickets purchased consecutively from a random street kiosk hitting the absolute maximum payout simultaneously was practically non-existent.

​Slowly, April lowered her eyes back to the floorboards. Rufus was still resting his heavy, majestic jaw right across her knee, his golden eyes blinking up at her lazily.

​A blessed beast of good luck, prosperity, and fortune, she recalled. The system description hadn’t been exaggerating in the slightest. The creature’s mere presence was actively warping the laws of probability in real-time. It was a walking, breathing cheat code for reality.

​”How do we cash this out anyway?” April asked flatly, her thumb lightly tracing the crisp edge of the winning cardboard. ”Who is responsible for distributing the money?”

​Nat burst into a short, amused chuckle, leaning back against the leather cushions and dropping his shades back over his eyes. ”You see? It’s therapeutic, right? Doesn’t this feel relaxing?”

​April instantly looked away from him, staring out the tinted glass window as the city buildings blurred past in a rapid stream of motion.

​Ah, it’s only relaxing because I know I have a cheat skill, she thought dryly. If she didn’t possess an oracle title and a mythical beast attached to her soul, she would just be another desperate human scraping for paper assets that would turn to ash in forty-nine days.

​”Mr. Collins is merely deflecting the primary question, Miss April,” Samuel’s smooth voice cut through from the front seat.

He adjusted the rearview mirror with one hand, his eyes completely professional as he guided the heavy G-Wagon through the commercial traffic.

”For mid-tier payouts of that volume, the local kiosk handles the immediate liquid distribution.” Samuel explained. ”However, given our current schedule, I can simply have a private courier collect the money and deposit the fifty thousand dollars directly into your banking account by evening.”

​”Do that, Samuel. Thank you,” April murmured, tossing the winning tickets onto the center console beside her. Let’s use that to buy a nice toy for Rufus since he won it.

​”Right away, ma’am.”

​Nat rolled his head to the side, watching her unbothered profile with a low smirk. ”You really know how to take the fun out of a hustle, little seer. But fine. Let’s go see this warehouse of yours. I want to see exactly how much you’ve been hoarding before the fire hits.”

​”Not enough,” she whispered. Whatever was stored in the warehouse right now would not be nearly enough to fill over 100,000 cubic meters of space. ”I’ll definitely need more.”

​Nat rested his heavy elbow over the armrest on the door, leaning his chin casually against his knuckles. ”You’re preparing a lot.”

​”Of course. It’s the end of the world.”

​”Heh! Then I better prepare thrice as much if I don’t want any of my boys going hungry.” His playful tone dipped, replaced by a reckless glaze as he fixed his gaze forward. ”But I can’t wait, sweetheart. To see the destruction of the world and watch as the entire social order collapses into chaos... it really makes my blood run hot with excitement.”

​April looked at his profile for a split second and then thought solemnly, Psycho.

​True to Samuel’s calculations, the massive G-Wagon pulled up to the industrial perimeter exactly twenty minutes later.

As the electronic iron gates slid open, April looked out the window and realized the sheer scale of the compound.

​Comparing this warehouse complex to the first one she had visited—where Manager Henderson had received her—this place was colossal.

Each structural unit was easily three times the size of Henderson’s storage unit, and there were over ten of these massive industrial warehouses lined up in a row.

​”We have successfully secured all ten structures on the lot, Miss April,” Samuel briefed smoothly as he stepped out to open her door. ”And among those ten, seven are currently filled to maximum capacity with your wholesale goods.”

​April stepped down onto the concrete, her deadpan expression momentarily fracturing. Ah... I wondered why I was debited almost two hundred million dollars yesterday, she thought, a sudden, powerful spark of adrenaline rushing through her veins.

​”I took the liberty of expanding on your interior preferences,” Samuel continued, guiding her toward the primary hangar doors. ”I contacted the management at the Aurora showroom where you purchased your private furniture. Knowing you explicitly favored the design of the master beds, I ordered ten more of those exact models, along with automated kitchen appliances and reinforced steel shelving.”

​April almost let out an excited laugh, her icy composure completely cracking under the overwhelming joy of her hoarding habit. It was beautiful. It was absolute perfection.

Compared to what she had initially projected, this staggering volume of supplies might actually be enough to fill more than half of her spatial domain.

​But just as she took a deep breath, ready to step inside and begin the extraction process, a sudden system notification flared to life right before her eyes.

​[System Notice Announcement! Host, please read carefully.]

Note: Administrative analytics indicate that upgrading your Spatial Dimension to Level 3 will permanently disable the [Revitalization Spring] feature.

​Action Required: Before initiating the upgrade protocol, ensure you have extracted and stored a sufficient reserve of the spring’s water inside your personal inventory.

​April’s eyes widened. Her entire body froze mid-stride on the warehouse floor.

​Nat, who was walking right beside her, looked down at her. His brow furrowed as he noted the sudden, rigid horror written across her face. It looked as though she had just looked right through the concrete and seen a ghost.

​”Hey,” Nat muttered, his hand hovering near her shoulder. ”What’s wrong?”

​”It’s fine,” April forced out, her voice a flat murmur, but her expression did not fall back into its comfortable ease.

​Her mind was operating at lightning speed, running through desperate calculations.

She had explicitly planned to use the black market to sell the miracle water for an astronomical amount of cash. If she pushed the spatial upgrade and the spring permanently dried up, her primary source of future revenue would be cut off entirely.

​Thankfully, the system notice indicated that previously stored water would retain its active potency indefinitely. But losing the continuous generation of the revitalization spring was still a massive hit to her plans.