Today is July 30th. With the indoor temperature averaging 30 degrees Celsius, Aoi had no choice but to let the poor electric fan, which had been running nonstop for five days and nights, continue its grueling work.

It seemed the fan was starting to wear out. Aoi couldn't pinpoint exactly when, but at some point, it began making a "whining" noise, like it was protesting. He swore that when he bought it five days ago, there was absolutely no sign of this peculiar, complaining sound.

"Nagoya: 40 to 41.1°C."

"Shizuoka: 40 to 41°C."

"Yokohama: 39 to 40°C."

The female announcer on the TV calmly reported these shocking temperatures, her soft voice in stark contrast to the terrifying numbers. It made people feel as though the Earth was slowly turning into Mercury.

Then, "Rumble....."

A deafening roar suddenly surged in through the window, drowning out every sound in the room, asserting itself as if it owned the space. Aoi didn't flinch. He remained seated on the sofa, staring blankly at a slip of paper and a bank card on the coffee table before him.

It was just the sound of another airplane taking off. He was used to it by now, as he heard it once or twice a day. While it used to bother him, he'd long since grown accustomed to the noise.

After all, his apartment was right next to Tokyo's only major airport.

This brings us to how Aoi ended up living in this place, a two-bedroom, one-bath apartment of about 70 square meters. It wasn't a rental he actually owned it.

Yes, his name was on the deed.

But he didn't buy it himself. In fact, he couldn't afford it. He was just an ordinary guy, fresh out of college, without the means to purchase a home. And no, his parents didn't buy it for him either. Aoi had grown up in an orphanage with other kids. Life was fine. Except for the dorm-style living arrangements, it wasn't much different from the way normal children lived. He had enough to eat, enough to wear, and received a proper education, which left him with a pretty favorable view of the country.

That said, he did have a particular passion—Anime.

For Aoi, and for many other kids in the orphanage, anime was more than entertainment it was like a friend and a teacher all in one. It gave them, each with their own sad backgrounds, a way to connect with one another.

Among all the shows, Naruto was the most beloved. It's easy to see why: Naruto, the main character, was also an orphan.

But let's get back on track.

The apartment Aoi now lived in wasn't something he bought, nor was it given to him by his parents. He had inherited it from an old man he met a year ago, shortly after graduating from college.

The old man, who was over eighty years old, claimed to have no family, no wife, no children. So, before he passed, he decided to leave all his belongings to a "fated person."

The catch? Aoi had to be his surrogate son until he passed away. When Aoi asked why he'd been chosen, the old man simply looked at him with a complicated expression and said, "You're easy on the eyes..."

At first, Aoi didn't believe it. He was a rational adult, and his first instinct was that this was some kind of scam. But when his name legally appeared on the property deed, and nearly 60,000 yen was deposited into his bank account, he couldn't deny it any longer.

For the next five months, Aoi became the old man's "son," staying by his side until he took his last breath.

Sure, Aoi could have taken the money and the house and left without a second thought. But he didn't. He couldn't bring himself to do something that heartless.

So, for five months, instead of looking for a job, he stayed home and listened to the old man recount stories from his military days. Aoi didn't even know how to cook, but he bought recipe books and learned to make meals. When the old man wanted fruit, Aoi would get up early to buy the freshest produce from the morning market.

Sometimes, when the boredom was too much, he would sing, even though the only songs he knew were theme songs from anime. The old man didn't understand a word, but he always listened with a smile.

In the final two months, the old man became bedridden and refused to go to the hospital, insisting it was a waste of money. So, Aoi made porridge every day and fed it to him, spoonful by spoonful. When some spilled, he'd carefully wipe it up.

But the hardest part was dealing with the old man's declining physical state. He could no longer go to the bathroom on his own, and sometimes accidents happened. It was difficult for Aoi, and there were many times he thought about walking away. But every time he saw the old man's cloudy eyes, he swallowed his frustration and pushed through.

To this day, he still isn't sure if he stuck around because of the apartment and money, or because he'd genuinely come to see the old man as a father figure.

Now, why was Aoi sitting on the couch, staring at a slip of paper and a bank card? The reason might make you laugh: he'd been sitting there all night.

The slip of paper was a check. A check with a 1, followed by seven zeros. No, this wasn't part of the inheritance from the old man.

He'd earned it. In fact, it had only taken him less than forty-eight hours.

Sounds impressive, right?

But it's really nothing special. Anyone could do it—as long as they win the first prize in the lottery.

Yep, the check in front of him was the prize from the national lottery.

As for the bank card, well, that was even simpler. The eight-figure sum on the check was now safely deposited in his account.

"What the hell is going on with me?"

"Why is this so ridiculous?"

"You just buy a random lottery ticket and win?"

"Okay, fine, I won. So what? It's just the first prize."

"The first prize, though? And I actually got it?"

All night long, these kinds of thoughts kept swirling through Aoi's mind in different variations. He simply couldn't wrap his head around how lucky he was.

"Wait a minute..."

The sound of the plane had long since faded, and Aoi's mind started to clear. He glanced around his living room and muttered to himself.

"Come to think of it... this apartment... it's kind of suspicious how I got it in the first place."

Sure, he'd taken care of the old man for five months, but did that really balance out the value of a place like this?

"With luck like this, am I the protagonist of some kind of story? Is my 'Golden Finger' just ridiculously good fortune?"

Maybe it was all the anime he'd watched, but Aoi's thoughts began to wander, and before he knew it, a strange idea slipped out of his mouth.

"What if I wanted to travel through time? To a world with superpowers or something..."