The Incurable Disease of the First God of War

He is a battlefield legend who crawled out of a mountain of corpses and a sea of ​​blood. He can crush missiles with his bare hands in a hail of bullets. He can pick out the head of an admiral in a battle of 100,000 people as if he were picking something out of a bag. But at this moment, the number one master who made the enemy countries fearful was sitting in the consulting room with his head drooping. "Doctor," his voice was hoarse, and there was lingering fatigue in his eyes, "I haven't slept for three days, and I felt nauseated when I saw the military rations. My comrades said that I was about to become an eggplant beaten by frost - did I... Suffer from that kind of depression?" The man in the white coat pushed up his glasses, flipped through a thick stack of checklists, and suddenly sneered: "You are not depressed." "What is that?" He raised his head suddenly, a trace of panic that could not be taken away from the battlefield flashed in his eyes. "Money syndrome." The air froze for three seconds, and the God of War's pupils shrank suddenly. "Then... Can it be cured?" The doctor pointed to the lottery station outside the window and said slowly: "Incurable diseases all rely on self-healing. For example, picking up a box of gold bars at the corner, or... Going to buy a five million lottery ticket tomorrow?" No one knew that this ruthless man who could single-handedly defeat the enemy's headquarters was worried about next month's rent. No one even knew that on the discharge application hidden beside his bed, there was a line of small words written on it: "I want to save enough money to buy an apartment for the mother who sacrificed her comrades." ——The battlefield can bear the shells, but life cannot bear the bills. Today's God of War-limited worry: Where should money come from?