Making a Profit

When they got to the lucky boy's game console, there were already people standing around.

The ordinary-looking boy, with a dull expression, was staring blankly at the slot machine in front of him. Both hands were resting on the machine, and only the hand that occasionally needed to move for a coin could be seen as a living person.

"Tsk tsk, luck is really good, he's already won so much."

"It turns out that you can still play like this—just keep swiping coins. Although there is no big prize, there are constant small wins."

"I'm going, this win is more than my annual salary! Stupid people have stupid blessings..."

"Wait, weakly asking, has he cheated? The winning rate seems a bit high..."

"You're stupid. The people in black who cheat didn't come up early. Besides, the people over there won even more..."

People around were talking about it, some of them unable to win themselves, while others seemed to get lucky effortlessly, causing them to feel unbalanced.

"Has a technician checked it? Is there a problem with the machine?" Brother Wang couldn't see any difference between the teenagers. He put both hands on the machine, visible to everyone, with no chance for small movements.

"I've checked it, and I'm still watching. The machine was debugged this morning, and there's no issue," the young man beside him replied quietly.

However, as more and more people watched, the young man's luck seemed to fade. He invested more than 100 coins in a row but didn't win.

"Young man, it's almost over. You've run out of luck. It's pointless to keep going," a middle-aged fat man with a good heart kindly reminded him.

But the boy didn't seem to hear him and continued inserting coins into the machine—one hundred, two hundred, three hundred... nearly five hundred coins in a row, but no prizes.

"It looks like his luck is running out, hehe..."

"Tsk, don't say anything. I want to see him keep playing!"

Some people whispered with glee, though it was clear that everyone shared that sentiment, and no one reminded him anymore.

Brother Wang and the young man named Xiaoshang, watching from behind, finally breathed a sigh of relief. It seemed like the boy wouldn't break the 10,000 coin mark, so the issue could be suppressed.

Eventually, after spending nearly 900 coins without winning, the boy chose to give up.

When enough game coins were gathered, the game city staff automatically exchanged the customer's coins for a memory card. Even though the boy had many coins, it was still just one card.

Each coin was just a virtual one, with no real transactions.

So, when the boy got up to leave, he only had a memory card with the game city's logo in his hand.

Under the jealous gazes of onlookers, the boy walked straight to the exchange office computer.

After he left, his original machine quickly became very popular. The seasoned players, of course, knew the inside story of the game city. That young man might have won so much because of some unknown malfunction in the machine.

Some people speculated that it was due to the boy's method, so they rushed to find another game machine and copied his actions.

However, these "smart" attempts would likely lead them to lose everything.

The boy, sitting in front of the computer, fumbled with the keys. At first glance, it was clear he didn't use a computer often.

After struggling for five minutes, he finally added the exchanged items to the shopping cart, swiped the card, and paid using game currency.

He exchanged two TMs and a Poisonous TM, totaling 6,000 game coins, and then exchanged the remaining 3,000 coins for Pokecoins.

Walking to the counter, he ignored the stares of two young men named Brother Wang and Xiao Hu.

He lowered his head and quietly waited for something to arrive.

Soon, a door behind the counter opened, and a middle-aged man in overalls came out carrying a box. He placed it on the counter and returned.

"This is what you exchanged. There's an unnamed bank card with 375,000 in it. Check it," Brother Wang pushed the box in front of the boy, his anger evident.

Though they could suppress the situation, the monthly performance bonus was definitely gone, and how could they not be upset?

What's worse, this dull boy had just earned several years' worth of salary—envy and jealousy boiled inside them.

The boy nodded silently, picked up the box, and walked out of the game city.

He didn't care about the malicious gazes behind him or the whispering gang of tattooed youths.

After leaving the game city, the sun was hanging in the west. He walked down the road, his head lowered, but the corner of his mouth rose slightly.

This dull-looking boy was Aoki. From noon, he had entered the Goldenrod City Game City with the crowd. He had experience with this place from a previous life, and using his system to slightly control the game console's internal program was an easy task.

However, to avoid suspicion, he made sure that the speed of winning game coins wasn't too fast. Wins and losses were balanced, with more losses than wins, but the total amount of coins won always surpassed the total losses. This way, he could steadily earn game currency.

Aoki knew from his past experience that as long as the winnings didn't exceed one million Pokecoins, it wouldn't attract attention from the game city's executives, at most causing the staff to lose a bonus or two.

After all, it was a gambling game city, and winning or losing was normal. The top executives only cared about consistent profits, so a few occasional days of big wins wouldn't matter.

Aoki also knew that when his earnings neared one million Pokecoins, he would lose a bit to calm the staff's nerves, exchange some TMs, and then leave promptly.

Such behavior wouldn't raise suspicion if done occasionally, but returning every day to make money like this—even with a disguise—would eventually be noticed. After all, one can change their face, but height and exposed features aren't as easily hidden.

So, Aoki considered this place merely as a means to exchange skills and earn some money on the side. After visiting once, he wouldn't return for a long time.

"Tsk, it's still wealth that moves people's hearts!"

Aoki shook his head in resignation. He knew that the money he made would surely make some people jealous. Some might take risks, but he didn't expect their impatience.

When Aoki left the game city, a few gangsters who specialized in following people like him began to trail him. After leaving the game city, they started to follow him with poor tracking skills.

How could Aoki, with his experience as a member of Team Rocket, not recognize such amateur tracking methods?