The subway ride back to the dorm felt like a dream, the weight of Maison Étoile's opulence still clinging to me as the train rattled through Auremouth's neon-lit tunnels.
I slumped in my seat, the Lorvex Éclat Prime hidden under my sleeve, my heart finally slowing after the night's tension.
I'd done it—survived the system's evaluation, played the young master in front of five elite strangers, and somehow kept my cover. The city blurred past, and I let out a shaky laugh, whispering,
"You pulled it off, Noah Theylenor."
But the attendants' reverence, Adam's stare at my watch, and the group still lingered in my mind, making me wonder what I'd gotten myself into.
Back at Maison Étoile, Michael Brooks and his friends lingered in the private suite, the empty wine bottles and cleared plates a testament to the night's extravagance.
The chandelier light cast long shadows as Michael leaned back, his tailored jacket unbuttoned, his sharp eyes narrowing.
"Noah Theylenor," he said, testing the name. "Anyone heard of him before tonight?"
The others shook their heads, their expressions a mix of curiosity and unease.
"Not a whisper," Daniel Hughes said, his broad frame slouched in the velvet chair. "And I know most of the players in Auremouth."
Ethan Cole, swirling the last of his wine, frowned. "That suite's supreme tier. You don't just book that. It's for the major family heads, cabinet ministers, or international conglomerate level chairman's. Who is this guy?"
His thin fingers tapped the glass, his usual detachment replaced by a rare intensity. Lucas Bennett, ever the optimist, grinned but it faltered.
"Maybe he's some hidden heir we missed..."
He trailed off, glancing at Adam, who'd been quiet, his sharp eyes distant.
"Adam, you've been weird since you poured his wine. What's up?"
Michael leaned forward, sensing Adam's unease. "Yeah, man, you were acting like his butler. What's the deal?"
Adam shifted, his cufflinks glinting as he set his glass down. "It's not just the suite," he said, his voice low. "That watch Noah was wearing—it's a Lorvex Éclat Prime. One of five in the world worth over sixty million CRD."
The room went still, the weight of his words sinking in. Daniel let out a low whistle. "Sixty million? For a watch?"
Lucas's grin vanished. "No way he's just some kid."
Michael's mind raced, piecing it together. "Theylenor's not a name in our circles, but that suite, that watch… he's got power we don't know about. Maybe old money, maybe something else."
Ethan nodded, his skepticism hardening. "Or he's connected to someone who pulls strings. Nobody walks into Maison Étoile's supreme tier without serious backing."
The group exchanged glances, the air thick with questions. Noah Theylenor was a mystery, and in Auremouth's elite world, mysteries were dangerous.
Adam's revelation about the watch hit the group hard. He leaned forward, his voice steady but intense.
"I know Lorvex's catalog inside out," he said. "The Éclat Prime isn't something you buy, even with CRD. You need influence—government-level family authority, or straight-up power.
My clients beg for Lorvex pieces, and they're billionaire's. Noah's got one on his wrist, and he's what, in his early twenties!?"
Michael rubbed his jaw, processing. "So he's not just rich. He's untouchable."
Daniel crossed his arms, his car-dealer swagger dimmed. "Explains the attendants. They nearly bowed when he said his name. You think he's tied to a major family?"
Adam shook his head. "No Theylenors in the big houses, not that I know. But that watch… it's a statement. You don't wear it unless you're someone."
Lucas tried to lighten the mood. "Maybe he stole it," he joked, but his laugh was weak. Ethan snorted. "And booked a supreme tier suite? Doubt it."
The watch solidified their suspicion: Noah was no ordinary kid.
Michael leaned back, his game company instincts kicking in. "We need to be careful with this guy," he said. "He's playing at a level we don't understand."
Adam nodded, his jewelry expertise making him the most shaken. "I poured his wine because that's what you do with someone above you. Felt right in the moment."
Daniel raised an eyebrow. "Above us? That's a stretch."
But Adam's certainty was unshaken. "You don't get that watch without power and authority. Trust me."
The group fell silent, the weight of Noah's mystery pressing down.
As they prepared to leave, Lucas checked his phone, then froze. "Wait, our bill—it's paid."
The others stared, confused. "What?"
Ethan said, grabbing his own phone to check the tab. "All of it? That's… millions of CRD."
The server confirmed it, bowing slightly. "Mr. Theylenor's account covered everything, sirs."
Michael's jaw tightened. "He paid for us? Without saying a word?"
Daniel shook his head, incredulous. The group stood, their designer clothes feeling less impressive now.
Michael spoke first, his voice low. "We need to look into him. Light touch, nothing heavy. Just… who is Noah Theylenor?"
Ethan nodded, his skepticism now caution. "Agreed. But we don't dig too deep. If he's got that kind of pull, we don't want to step on toes."
Lucas shrugged, uneasy. "Maybe he's just a nice guy with a big wallet."
Adam scoffed. "Nice guys don't book supreme tier suites and wear Éclat Primes."
Daniel clapped Michael's shoulder. "Your call, Mike. But let's not piss off someone who can make us disappear."
They agreed to investigate—carefully—knowing one wrong move could cost them.
The decision weighed on them as they left Maison Étoile, the city's lights reflecting their unease.
"Start with public records," Michael said, already planning. "Socials, business filings, anything safe. No hacking, no tails."
Ethan smirked. "Scared, Mike?"
Michael shot him a look. "Smart. If he's tied to a major family or worse, we're out of our league."
Adam stayed quiet, his mind still on the watch, its gems haunting him. They'd find out who Noah Theylenor was, but they'd tread lightly, aware that power like his could crush them.
Back at the dorm, I collapsed onto my bed, the silence of the empty room a stark contrast to Maison Étoile's grandeur. The system's screen flickered to life, glowing above me.
⟪Congratulations, Noah Theylenor. Evaluation complete. Score: 85%.⟫
I sat up, a grin breaking across my face. "Eighty-five? That's huge!" I said, my voice echoing in the quiet.
My first evaluation had been a measly 65%; this was a leap, proof the subspace training had rewired me. I'd pulled off the young master act in front of Auremouth's elite, and the system approved.
⟪You successfully displayed wealth through your actions,⟫ the system continued.
⟪Your composure, etiquette, and handling of the group were commendable. The reward will be granted soon.⟫
I laughed, relief flooding me. "I can't believe I didn't crack," I said, running a hand through my hair.
The night had been a minefield and the system's praise felt like a lifeline, pulling me closer to a life beyond tens of CRD.
I lay back, staring at the ceiling, the Lorvex Éclat Prime catching the dim light. The score was a win, but I couldn't shake the feeling I'd stirred something bigger.
Those guys weren't just curious—they were suspicious. And the attendants' reaction, the way they'd frozen at my name, still didn't add up.
"What did you do, system?" I whispered, but the screen was gone, leaving me with my thoughts and a growing sense of unease.
Then it hit me—the system didn't mentioned the suite was supreme tier but he saw it's logo on the room, something I'd only caught in passing during the evaluation.
I sat up, my mind racing. Supreme tier at Maison Étoile wasn't just fancy—it was for Veyloria's top dogs: major families, government bigwigs, conglomerate CEOs.
No wonder the receptionist had nearly fainted, the attendants bowing like I was royalty. The system must have pulled strings, making "Noah Theylenor" sound like someone who mattered.
"You sneaky bastard," I muttered, half-impressed, half-terrified.
The realization explained the group's wariness too. Michael and his friends weren't just rich kids—they were Auremouth's rising stars, and they'd treated me like I was above them.
Adam pouring my wine, their careful actions—it all made sense now. I wasn't just a guy with a fancy watch; to them, I was a mystery with power. I flopped back, my heart pounding.
"You're in deep, Noah Theylenor," I said, the dorm's quiet amplifying my words.
I lay on my bed, the dorm's silence wrapping around me like a blanket, but my mind was racing.
The system's evaluation had been about flaunting wealth, and I'd pulled it off—not just with the Lorvex Éclat Prime or the supreme tier suite, but with how I carried myself.
At Maison Étoile, it wasn't just the CRD that mattered; it was the way Michael and his friends looked at me, like I was someone important, someone untouchable.
Showing off wealth wasn't just about flashing money; it was about making people believe you belonged in their world.
The system's screen flickered to life, its glow cutting through the dark. ⟪Your analysis is correct, Noah Theylenor,⟫ it said, the words sharp and clear.
⟪Wealth is perception as much as it is assets. Your actions at Maison Étoile projected authority and status, enhancing your score. Well done.⟫
I grinned, a rush of pride hitting me. "Guess I'm not as clueless as I thought,"
I said, half to myself. The system's praise felt like a rare pat on the back, and for once, I felt like I was catching up to its game.
Future missions loomed in my mind, each one a chance to climb higher, to turn my life into something real. If tonight was any indication, I wanted to master the art of perception—to walk, talk, and act like I was born rich, not just to own expensive things.
The thought thrilled me. With every mission, I was getting closer to a life where I wouldn't have to check my CRD balance ten times a day. The system's silence felt like agreement, urging me to keep going.
The screen pulsed again, brighter this time. ⟪Evaluation filings complete. Reward processing finalized. Enter the subspace to claim your prize.⟫
I sat up, my heart skipping. "Already?" I said, excitement bubbling.
I closed my eyes, focusing, and the dorm faded as the subspace materialized—a vast white void, the familiar turntable gleaming in the center.
Its surface sparkled with possibilities, each segment promising something wilder than the last. I rubbed my hands together, grinning like a kid.
"Three draws, huh? Let's see what you've got for me."
⟪For your 85% score, you are granted three draws,⟫ the system said, its voice echoing.
⟪An excellent result, Noah Theylenor. Spin the turntable.⟫
I stepped forward, my pulse racing. Three draws? That was huge, a reward for surviving the dinner and outshining my first evaluation's measly 65%.
I gripped the turntable, gave it a hard spin, and watched it whirl, colors blurring into a dizzying spiral. My legs felt shaky, the anticipation almost too much. The watch had been a shock; what could top that?
The turntable slowed, the arrow ticking past gadgets, CRD sums, and things I couldn't even name. It stopped, and the system's voice rang out.
⟪Congratulations, Noah Theylenor. You've won Celestia Manor, No. 7, Solane Ridge, Auremouth, Veyloria. Valued at 45 million CRD.⟫
My knees buckled, and I grabbed the turntable to steady myself. "A villa?" I choked out. "Forty-five million?"
The screen displayed an image—a sprawling estate on a hilltop, glass walls overlooking Auremouth's skyline, its gardens lit like a dream. Solane Ridge was the city's most exclusive area, where the elite lived in mansions that screamed wealth.
I stared, my mouth dry. Celestia Manor wasn't just a house; it was a statement, the kind of place where the elite families lived.
"No way," I whispered, my voice shaking.
The system was unmoved. ⟪The deed will be transferred to your name. Continue to excel, and more will follow.⟫
I laughed, half-hysterical, my legs still weak. I'd gone from a dorm with peeling paint to owning a 45-million-CRD villa.
"Noah Theylenor, you're living a fever dream," I said, the subspace's white void feeling too small for the moment.
I stepped back, the turntable still gleaming, two draws left. My heart pounded harder, the image of Celestia Manor burned into my mind.
A villa on Solane Ridge, with panoramic views of Auremouth's glittering lights, was beyond anything I'd imagined. I couldn't wait to see what the next spin would bring.
"Come on, system," I said, my voice steadying with excitement. "Let's make it even crazier."
I stood in the subspace, the turntable's glow reflecting in my wide eyes, my heart still racing from the first draw. Celestia Manor—a 45-million-CRD villa on Solane Ridge—was already mine, a dream I could barely wrap my head around.
Two draws left, and the anticipation was electric. I gripped the turntable again, my hands steadier now, fueled by adrenaline.
"Alright, system, let's see what's next,"
I said, giving it a firm spin. The colors blurred, the segments a dizzying mix of possibilities, each one a step closer to the life the system was building for me.
The turntable slowed, the arrow ticking past more CRD sums and gadgets, finally stopping on a sleek image of two cars. The system's voice echoed:
⟪Congratulations, Noah Theylenor. You've won a Veyronne Asterion S9 by Veyronne Motors, valued at 12 million CRD, and a Draevon Tempest X7 by Draevon Automotive, valued at 10 million CRD.⟫
I staggered back, my jaw dropping. "Two cars? Twenty-two million CRD?"
I said, my voice cracking. The screen displayed them—a Veyronne Asterion S9, all sleek curves and polished elegance, and a Draevon Tempest X7, its aggressive lines screaming speed. I was speechless, my legs threatening to give out again.
Veyronne Motors was Veyloria's pinnacle of luxury, their cars a symbol of precision engineering and sophistication, driven by Auremouth's elite.
Draevon Automotive, just as prestigious, was all about raw power, their Tempest X7 a favorite among those who craved speed over subtlety.
I pictured them imagining that they are parked at Celestia Manor, their chrome glinting under Solane Ridge's lights, and laughed, half-hysterical.
"Noah Theylenor, you're a car guy now?" I said, shaking my head.
The rewards were piling up—a villa, two luxury cars, all worth more than I'd ever imagined. I was a broke student with no credits, yet the system was turning me into someone who could rival Michael's crew.
The thought of driving a Veyronne or Draevon through Auremouth's streets, heads turning, made my pulse race.
"One more draw," I whispered, my eyes locked on the turntable.
The system stayed silent, letting the moment build, and I stepped forward, ready for the final spin, my heart pounding with what could come next.
I gave the turntable one last spin, the colors whirling faster than before, my breath catching as it slowed.
The arrow ticked past more extravagant prizes, then settled on a simple black box, its surface plain and unmarked. The system's voice rang out:
⟪Congratulations, Noah Theylenor. Your final reward is a sealed black box. Contents to be revealed upon collection.⟫
I blinked, staring at the screen, confusion replacing my excitement.
"A black box?"
I said, my voice flat. "That's it?"
The subspace faded, leaving me back in my dorm, the mystery of the box hanging over me like a cloud.