FortuneCraft in Apocalypse

The Owner

Draven stopped in front of the door. It was a fancy little house that seemed to have faded over the years. He wondered how long he had been gone and why they had moved. Was it a year ago? It felt like a year ago, though now that he has calculated it, it was actually seven months ago. He’s been in the game for seven long months, and he wasn’t sure when it would end, or if it would end anytime soon. He could be in the game for years, years, before he even won. And what did winning mean exactly? They had not explicitly explained that. If they were getting money now as little wins, does that mean the biggest win would be a full mountain of cash? Oh, what would he do to place his hand on that cash? And if it was a big mountain of cash, doesn’t it make sense that only limited people—if not everyone-would have access to it since they won it?

Draven groaned as he brought his mind back to the door and the girlish giggle behind the door. He was subconsciously trying to avoid this moment but he