I Suddenly Became Rich, But I Have No Idea How to Spend the Money

I woke up at 8 AM.

As I was getting ready to head out to university, I suddenly realized—it was Saturday.

Saturday, huh…? In that case, maybe I should try my luck at the Japan Racing Association’s horse races.

It’s my first time betting on horse racing, so I might as well go to an actual racetrack. No point in waking up early and wasting the day.

Besides, the stock market isn’t open today anyway.

With about 70,000 yen in my wallet—leftover from yesterday’s meal with Shimizu—I headed to Hanshin Racecourse.

Excitement bubbled inside me as I hurried along, trying to keep my anticipation in check.

When I arrived, the second race had just finished.

An announcement played, signaling the betting window was now open for the third race.

Nice timing.

I checked the live race coverage and scrolled through predictions on my phone, trying to decide which horse to bet on.

I ended up picking three horses and placing a trifecta bet, where you predict the exact order of the top three finishers.

Turns out, the race was a bit of an upset—my 100-yen bet turned into over 50,000 yen.

A 500x payout.

Since I had bet 1,000 yen, I suddenly found myself with around 500,000 yen.

“…This is actually kinda terrifying.”

I muttered to myself, deciding to intentionally lose the next few races to “save” my luck for when it really mattered.

After that, I placed my bets randomly without much thought and lost a good chunk of my winnings.

By the time I left the racecourse, my 500,000 yen had shrunk to around 400,000 yen.

But somehow, I felt like I had “recharged” my luck instead of exhausting it.

It was a strange feeling—like I was invincible.

Just as I was about to head home, I overheard people talking about a major race happening in Tokyo tomorrow.

The atmosphere around me was buzzing with excitement—bettors hyping themselves up for the big day.

“I’ve got 500,000 yen now… Should I just head to Tokyo and stay the night?”

I knew that my spontaneity was one of my strengths.

But once I got an idea in my head, I couldn’t think about anything else. That was my fatal flaw.

“I don’t have any plans tomorrow anyway… Might as well go.”

Decision made.

Without a moment’s hesitation, I left Hanshin Racecourse and headed straight for Shin-Osaka Station to catch a train to Tokyo.

Being naturally frugal, I couldn’t bring myself to book a seat in the Green Car (first class).

I settled for a reserved seat instead.

Not a non-reserved one, though—I figured I should at least rest a bit before tomorrow and keep my luck “charged up.”

Definitely not because I wanted a little extra luxury.

…Probably.

As I relaxed on the train, eating the bento I had picked up earlier, I suddenly realized—I hadn’t booked a hotel yet.

“Let’s see… The racecourse is… in Chiba? The nearest station is… JR Funabashi-Hōten? Where even is that?

A 30-minute ride from Tokyo Station, huh?

Guess I’ll book a hotel near Tokyo Station.

Maybe I should splurge a little this time…

Oh, this one looks familiar. Let’s go with this.”

The hotel I chose was an ultra-luxurious, world-famous international chain—one whose very name evoked an image of paradise.

“170,000 yen per night… Yeah, no problem.”

I told myself it was fine, but my hand was trembling as I pressed the reservation button.

I reassured myself—I had my stock investments, so I wasn’t about to go broke.

Reservation complete.

As I continued scrolling on my phone, lost in thought, I noticed a few people around me throwing glances my way.

Understandable—I must’ve looked like some lunatic spending absurd amounts of money online.

By the time I arrived at Tokyo Station, it was already past 9 PM.

I stepped out of the ticket gates and walked for about ten minutes, searching for my hotel.

And then—I saw it.

“It really does live up to the hype… Glad I dressed up a little for this.”

Even though I was just wearing jeans and sneakers, this was my version of “dressing up,” so it was fine.

After my previous embarrassing experience at a high-end sushi restaurant, I had started putting more thought into my outfits.

At the very least, I made sure I always looked presentable in case I ran into someone I knew.

Tonight’s ensemble: black KURO denim, my favorite shirt from SHIPS, and a spring jacket I had bought years ago from United Arrows.

Back when I first bought the jacket, it felt like I was punching above my weight.

But now, I’d grown into it—I could wear it with confidence.

Coincidentally, this outfit covered three out of the “Big Four College Student Brands” (according to my personal ranking).

Since I thought it suited me, I had no complaints.

For shoes, I went with the NIKE sneakers I had recently bought in Umeda.

Stepping into the hotel lobby, I was nearly overwhelmed by its sheer opulence.

But I held my ground and made my way toward the check-in counter with as much composure as I could muster.

A bell staff member approached me.

“Good evening, sir. Checking in?”

“Yes, I have a reservation under Kirishima.”

“Certainly. Please follow me.”

Despite my nervousness, I managed to complete the check-in process smoothly.

The room I was given was on one of the highest floors, offering a breathtaking panoramic view of Tokyo’s night skyline.

As a smoker, I had heard rumors that smoking rooms were never assigned to high floors in luxury hotels.

Just to be safe, I had booked a non-smoking room.

Looking out at the dazzling cityscape, a thought crossed my mind.

“Maybe I got to stay in a place like this because of the good karma I built up… I’ll never be able to thank Nakamura-san enough.”

Feeling hungry, I decided to check out the hotel’s restaurants.

I took the elevator down, but the main dining restaurant felt too intimidating.

Plus, it was getting close to closing time.

I gave up and headed to the lobby lounge’s bar instead.

I sat at the counter and told the bartender I wanted a meal.

Surprisingly, they brought me the same menu as the main restaurant.

That level of hospitality was exactly what I expected from a five-star hotel.

The hotel was entirely non-smoking, but the bar had a designated smoking section.

I took out my usual—American Spirit Organic Mint Lights—lit it with my trusty Zippo, and waited for my food.

The meal was, without a doubt, incredible.

However…

“It still doesn’t beat the sushi place Nakamura-san took me to.”

An arrogant thought for a mere college student.

But still—I continued eating, savoring every bite.