Chapter 70: New Functions
Wren sat perfectly still on the edge of the plush mattress, his blue eyes wide as he stared at the incredibly detailed, three-dimensional projection spinning slowly in the center of the room.
It was a flawless, one-to-one scale replica of Langford Lodge.
Every single flaw of his abandoned inheritance was rendered in glowing digital lines.
"This is insane..." Wren murmured, leaning forward, resting his elbows on his knees. "It looks exactly like the real thing."
"Of course it does, Host," Nyx said. "Welcome to your primary workspace. What you are looking at is the foundation of your empire. However, in its current state, Langford Lodge is classified in the system as a Tier 0 Investment."
Wren raised an eyebrow, his gaze tracking a blinking red warning icon hovering over the digital roof. "Tier 0? I’m assuming that means it’s garbage?"
"It means it is an active liability," Nyx corrected smoothly. "A Tier 0 Investment drains resources, requires massive capital to repair, and has not generated a single credit of wealth for you yet. It is a black hole for your finances. Allow me to display the parameters."
A sleek, translucent blue menu expanded to the right of the rotating building.
((INVESTMENT TIER SYSTEM))
((Tier 0: Active Liability — Drains resources. Generates 0 Credits.))
((Tier 1: Localized Small Business — Actively generating consistent daily income.))
((Tier 2: Regional Enterprise — Dominating local market share.))
((Tier 3: National Corporation — Multi-city brand presence.))
((Tier 4: International Conglomerate — Cross-border operations.))
((Tier 5: Global Behemoth — Multi-billion credit valuation (e.g., Celestine Cruise Line).))
((Tier 6: World-Class Titan — Dictates global market trends (e.g., Merrett Industries).))
Wren let out a slow breath, reading down the list.
The gap between his rotting two-story lodge in Harlow and the massive corporate empires of the women he was currently seducing was vast.
It was an intimidating mountain to climb, but seeing it quantified into a literal game system made it feel achievable.
He reached out and tapped the floating text labeled ((Structural Integrity Readouts)).
The entire Langford Lodge hologram shifted instantly as the exterior walls turned completely transparent, revealing the wooden framework and the foundational concrete.
Vast sections of the second floor and the basement glowed a deep crimson.
((CRITICAL WARNING: Structural failure detected in Sector 4.))
((Water damage severe. Rot spreading to primary load-bearing supports.))
"The red zones indicate critical structural failure, rot, or severe water damage," Nyx informed him. "Before you can even think about hosting guests or turning a profit, these zones must be completely eradicated."
Wren swiped his hand through the air, closing the structural tab.
He then extended his index finger and tapped the golden border of the ((Ground Floor Renovation Packages)).
A highly detailed invoice materialized in bright gold numbers right in front of his face.
((GROUND FLOOR RENOVATION PACKAGES: LUXURY TIER))
((The Reception Area: 30,000 Credits))
((Includes: Imported marble flooring, rich mahogany paneling, modern ambient lighting, roof repair, and foundational stabilization.))
((The Dining Room: 35,000 Credits))
((Includes: High-end seating for 40 guests, acoustic soundproofing, floor-to-ceiling reinforced glass windows, and modern aesthetic overhaul.))
((The Commercial Kitchen: 50,000 Credits))
((Includes: State-of-the-art commercial stoves, walk-in freezers, stainless steel prep stations, and professional culinary ventilation systems.))
((Total Ground Floor Package Cost: 115,000 Credits))
((Estimated Time of Completion: 48 Hours))
Wren’s jaw tightened as he stared at the glowing total.
One hundred and fifteen thousand credits... The luxury tier renovation which the absolute minimum standard required to actually compete with modern resorts demanded a lot, just for the ground floor.
"And how exactly does this get built?" Wren asked with his eyes narrowing at the glowing invoice. "I can’t just spawn a luxury kitchen out of thin air in the middle of Harlow. People will ask questions... The town council will want permits and it would be an absolute nightmare."
"That is exactly why you have the System Repair Crew mechanism," Nyx replied with a hint of smugness returning to her voice.
A new sub-tab popped open beneath the invoice.
((SYSTEM REPAIR CREW: COVERT DEPLOYMENT))
((Status: Ready for Dispatch))
((Details: An elite highly efficient construction team will arrive in standard commercial vehicles. Bypasses all local bureaucratic permits with Non-stop labor protocol activated.))
((Deploy Crew? [Y / N]))
"Once you fund a renovation package and hit the deploy button, I will generate an elite, covert construction team to execute the labor," Nyx explained. "They will arrive in Harlow driving unmarked black vans. To the locals, it will simply look like you hired a highly exclusive, out-of-town contracting firm. The system bypasses all local town council permits. More importantly, the crew does not sleep, they do not take breaks, and they do not speak to outsiders. They can compress four months of standard human labor into exactly forty-eight hours."
Wren stared at the glowing ’Y’ button resting at the bottom of the invoice and his finger twitched.
The temptation to just hit the button right now, to magically fix the ruined ground floor while he relaxed miles away on a tropical island, was massive.
But he stopped himself.
He pulled his hand back, clenching his fingers into a loose fist. Doing this blindly from a hotel room felt wrong.
He needed to actually see the process. He needed to be standing in the reception area of his childhood home when the rotting wood was finally ripped out.
"Not yet," Wren muttered, shaking his head. "I’ll wait."
"Delaying the deployment?" Nyx asked.
"Yeah. I want to wait until this Ivory Island tour is completely over," Wren said firmly. "I want to be back in Harlow to oversee the renovations myself. Plus, employing anyone for Langford Lodge through the ((Staff Management)) grids right now makes zero sense when the building doesn’t even have a working front door."
"A highly logical decision, Host..." Nyx praised. "Patience is a virtue in business."
Wren reached out and swiped his hand aggressively through the center of the hologram.
The entire three-dimensional projection of Langford Lodge shattered into a million tiny blue pixels, scattering into the air and fading into nothingness.
He let out a tired sigh, rubbing the back of his neck to ease the tension in his muscles.
"Show me the Missions Tab..." Wren commanded. "Let’s see what kind of ridiculous tasks you’ve cooked up since the reboot."
"Generating new objectives now." Nyx chimed.
A fresh, sleek interface bloomed into existence directly in front of his face.
The rigid text boxes populated rapidly, filling the air with a list of brand-new daily and side tasks. Wren leaned his broad back against the headboard, his eyes scanning the glowing blue lines.
((SIDE MISSIONS))
((Get Diana to fall asleep comfortably in your arms))
((Time Limit: Tonight))
((Reward: 1,500 Credits))
((Have intimate intercourse with a Target in a public location on Ivory Island without being caught))
((Time Limit: 7 Days))
((Reward: 20,000 Credits))
((Purchase a luxury gift for a Target worth over 50,000 Credits))
((Time Limit: 3 Days))
((Reward: 20,000 Credits + Affection Boost))
((Receive intimate touching (Handjob) from a Target while in the presence of others))
((Time Limit: 5 Days))
((Reward: 7,500 Credits))
((Convince a Target to wear a piece of clothing you specifically picked out for her in public))
((Time Limit: 3 Days))
((Reward: 8,500 Credits))
Wren stared at the screen with his jaw ticking in genuine disbelief.
He read the second and fourth missions twice just to ensure his dark eyes weren’t playing tricks on him in the dim light.
"Are you actually out of your mind?" Wren asked the empty room, pointing an accusing finger at the floating blue text.
"I assure you, my processing cores are functioning perfectly..." Nyx replied innocently.
"Intercourse in a public location?" Wren practically growled with his voice rising in irritation. "And getting a handjob in the presence of other people? Ivory Island is crawling with security cameras, paparazzi, and literal billionaires. If I get caught fucking someone in a cabana or a restaurant bathroom, I won’t just get arrested. I’ll get thrown directly into the ocean by their security details."
"High risk yields high rewards, Host..." Nyx countered smoothly. "Twenty thousand credits is a substantial payout. It would easily cover a massive portion of your remaining business needs. Besides, navigating the thrill of public exposure requires a very specific set of seduction skills. You cannot rely on locked doors and soundproof penthouses forever."
Wren dragged a hand down his face groaning into his palm.
The absolute audacity of Nyx was still baffling though he was used to it... she treated high-stakes social ruin like a simple video game side quest.
"Fuck you." Wren muttered.
"I am merely providing opportunities," Nyx said with the smugness returning to her voice. "Whether you possess the courage to execute them is entirely up to your own discretion."
Wren didn’t bother arguing with an artificial intelligence.
He knew exactly how that conversation would end so he looked over the rest of the list.
Buying a luxury gift and picking out clothing were easy enough, assuming he could drag one of the girls away from the main group for an hour or two.
And the first mission... getting Diana to fall asleep in his arms was surprisingly wholesome compared to the absolute degeneracy below it.
"Whatever. It’s all good for now," Wren said, waving his hand to dismiss the interface.
The blue screens folded in on themselves and vanished, returning his suite to total normalcy.
Just as the digital light faded completely, a soft hesitant knock sounded at his suite door.
Wren blinked, glancing at the digital clock resting on the mahogany bedside table.
It was getting quite late, and the adrenaline from his encounter with Isabel had finally started to recede leaving a dull exhaustion deep in his bones.
He pushed himself off the edge of the mattress with his bare feet padding silently across the plush, expensive carpet and walked over to the entryway.
He grabbed the polished silver handle and pulled the thick wooden door open.
Diana stood in the dimly lit hallway.
She was dressed in a soft oversized white knitted sweater that fell completely off one of her delicate shoulders, exposing the smooth, pale skin of her collarbone.
A pair of small comfortable sleep shorts barely peeked out from the bottom hem of the thick yarn and her long brown hair cascaded down her back in messy waves as a rosy blush dusted her cheeks.
However, Wren’s blue eyes immediately dropped down to her stance. She was standing entirely on her own, shifting her weight slightly to the side to keep the pressure off her injured leg.
He didn’t hesitate.
He stepped out into the hallway and immediately wrapped his strong right arm around her waist, pulling her flush against his side to support her balance.
"Why are you moving around without someone else holding you?" Wren asked. "You’re supposed to be keeping the weight off that ankle. If you needed something, you could have just texted me... I would have come directly to your room."
Diana flinched slightly at the firm scolding, but she didn’t pull away from his grip.
Instead, she leaned into his warmth with her cheek brushing against his broad shoulder. She looked down at the patterned carpet, her blush deepening to a bright crimson.
"My leg doesn’t hurt that much anymore," Diana murmured shyly, her slender fingers twisting the edge of her oversized sweater. "The pain meds the resort doctor gave me are working really well. I just... I wanted to spend some time with you."
The honesty in her voice completely melted the strict irritation right out of Wren’s chest.
The memory of the system mission... getting her to fall asleep in his arms flashed through his mind, but looking down at her soft tired expression, he realized he genuinely didn’t care about the credits right now.
"You’re too stubborn," Wren sighed, shaking his head.
Before Diana could offer a rebuttal or try to limp her way inside the suite, Wren leaned down.
He scooped his left arm right under the back of her knees and lifted her straight off the ground in one effortless motion.
"Wren!" Diana gasped softly, her eyes widening in surprise as her bare feet left the carpet.
She instinctively threw her arms around his thick neck to steady herself, her soft breasts pressing warmly against his chest.
She felt completely weightless in his solid grip.
The intoxicating scent of her vanilla shampoo and clean laundry filled his senses, masking the lingering smell of his own cologne.
Wren didn’t say another word.
He simply carried her out of the hallway, kicking the suite door shut behind them with his heel.
The latch clicked loudly, locking them safely inside the quiet room.
He walked her directly over to the bed. Instead of just setting her down on the edge, Wren climbed his knees onto the mattress, carrying her all the way to the center of the plush duvet.
He settled her down onto the pillows gently, ensuring her injured leg was elevated properly on a soft supportive cushion then, he climbed in right next to her.
Wren pulled the thick covers over their legs, creating a warm, secluded cocoon in the cool air-conditioning of the suite then he shifted his broad shoulders against the leather headboard, wrapping his arm securely around Diana’s waist, and pulled her flush against his side.
He guided her head down, pressing her soft face comfortably against his firm chest.
Diana let out a long, shaky exhale, completely melting into his embrace.
The tension she had been holding onto all day entirely vanished. She was incredibly happy about this.
She wrapped her slender arms securely around his torso with her fingers gripping the fabric of his shirt.
’Haah... I love this...’
Wren looked down at the crown of her dark hair and he leaned his chin down and pressed a soft kiss directly onto her forehead.
The affectionate gesture made Diana’s face burn. The blush spread rapidly down her neck, warming her entire body.
She buried her face deeper into his shirt to hide her overwhelming smil with her breathing slowing down as she found total comfort in his grip.
BZZZ. BZZZ.
The vibration of Wren’s phone buzzing against the bed shattered the quiet atmosphere.
Wren sighed quietly, trying not to disturb Diana’s resting position. He kept his left arm securely wrapped around her waist, ensuring she stayed comfortably tucked against his chest, while he reached his long right arm out toward the bed where the phone was.
He grabbed the sleek device and brought it into his line of sight.
The screen was glowing brightly in the dim room, displaying a new text message notification floating over his lock screen.
It was from Isa.
Wren swiped his thumb over the glass to open the chat thread. He had been expecting her to sneak over to his suite tonight, considering the intense buildup they had shared earlier on the island.
[Isabella: I can’t come to your room tonight.]
The blunt nature of the message made Wren frown.
She wasn’t the type to cancel plans without a massive, unavoidable reason so he tapped his thumb rapidly against the keyboard with his brow furrowing.
[Wren: Why? What happened?]
He watched the three small grey typing bubbles bounce on the bottom of the screen for an agonizingly long thirty seconds.
Finally, the bubbles vanished and were replaced by a single line of text.
[Isabella: My boyfriend just arrived on the island...]
Wren stared at the words with a sigh.
’Fuck...’
...
Far away, entirely isolated from the luxury of the suite, the atmosphere in one of Ivory Island’s most exclusive high-end cafes was suffocatingly tense.
The cafe was a masterpiece of modern architecture, featuring towering glass walls, golden ambient lighting, and imported marble tables.
Normally, the space was filled with the low sophisticated chatter of rich people, actors, and socialites enjoying the tropical evening.
Tonight, however, was different.
Several groups of girls sitting in the plush velvet booths near the back were actively whispering behind their hands as their eyes went wide with disbelief.
The waitresses standing near the hissing espresso machines were practically swooning, stealing constant, nervous glances toward the center of the room.
Sitting alone at a prime circular marble table near the window was Isabella.
She looked immaculate in a sleek evening dress but her posture was entirely rigid.
Her hands were folded tightly in her lap with her manicured nails digging into her own palms as genuine stress radiated from her beautiful features.
Sitting directly across the table from her, dominating the space with an effortless look on his face was Marcus Chen.
He was dressed impeccably in a dark tailored suit that looked entirely out of place for a tropical island but he wore it like armor.
His sharp, handsome features were set in stone. He didn’t look around the room and he didn’t acknowledge the whispers or the stares of his adoring fans.
His dark, cold eyes were locked dead onto Isabella’s face, pinning her to the chair like a specimen under glass.
The silence between them dragged out for a long agonizing minute.
Isabella opened her mouth to speak, to offer some kind of excuse for her sudden distance, but her throat clicked completely dry.
Marcus leaned slowly forward, resting his forearms against the cold marble of the table.
"You better have a very good reason for ignoring over 400 of my calls."
