Divine Fortune

How to play Divine Fortune

That is the gap Splash Tech solves: many operators already have strong game libraries, and some have proprietary content, but they lack a flexible jackpot layer that can sit across the full offering without requiring them to build and operate their own engine.

That supplier-agnostic design matters because operators do not organise their businesses around the interests of one studio. They assemble portfolios from multiple providers and need tools capable of working across the resulting patchwork. Splash Tech’s engine can also extend beyond slots to points of sale including sportsbook bet slips, lottery and bingo.

“Not making the product available across all game suppliers and all product verticals would be a massive missed opportunity,” Wilson explains. “Wherever you can have a player placing a bet, give them the opportunity to win on the jackpot engine because it is such a sticky product.”

What is Divine Fortune?

The move initially appeared to work. Flutter had a market capitalisation of about $36 billion when it began trading in New York in January 2024, rising to roughly $50 billion by June the following year. Flutter’s value later fell sharply as investors lowered their earnings expectations.

In the second quarter of 2026, Flutter’s US revenue fell 6% to $1.683 billion, while sportsbook revenue fell 15%. US adjusted EBITDA fell sharply, and Flutter subsequently reduced its guidance. Despite this, FanDuel retained the number-one US sportsbook position, with Flutter reporting a 39% share of US sportsbook gross gaming revenue.

Ben Robinson, managing partner at Corfai, argues that the American listing achieved what it was supposed to achieve. The problems came afterwards. “The question was which arm of the K-shaped market Flutter would end up on. We have the answer now. Capital is concentrated in a narrow band of technology names and everything else is being marked on earnings.”

What is Divine Fortune?

Nothing could have been further from the truth.

In the late 2000s, we wrote a humor column for the Las Vegas Review-Journal. Titled “Fear and Loafing,” it involved sampling odd jobs around town. One we wanted to try out was working as a personal assistant to a Vegas celebrity.

Every resident headliner up and down the Strip either declined or ignored our request. Most likely, the downside of having a working reporter snoop around their private life outweighed any potential upside.