Prestige Spending System

Chapter 7

Outside the Platinum Grand Hotel, a line of expensive luxury cars waited in the valet lane. There were shiny black Mercedes, sleek silver Porsches, and massive Range Rovers. The rich elites of the city stood under the glowing golden awning of the hotel, chatting and showing off their expensive dresses and tailored tuxedos.

But when that earth-shaking roar tore through the night, every single person stopped talking. They all turned their heads to look down the street.

A hypercar pulled into the valet lane. It was a Koenigsegg Agera RS, painted in a deep, aggressive matte black with sharp red details. It looked like a spaceship mixed with a fighter jet. The engine growled like a caged beast, vibrating the glass windows of the grand hotel. The price tag on such a machine was easily over three million dollars.

Inside the driver’s seat, Julian Musk took a deep breath.

Just an hour ago, the golden System application on his phone had leased this incredible car for him using the five-million-dollar mission budget. The moment he sat behind the steering wheel, he had felt nervous. But thanks to the System's new Charisma and Physique Enhancement, his body felt perfectly calm and naturally in control. He felt like he had been driving three-million-dollar hypercars his entire life.

He thought about his little sister, Lily, lying in her hospital bed. He thought about the 100 Prestige Points he needed to save her. He currently had 30. Tonight, in this hotel full of arrogant billionaires, he was going to earn the rest.

Julian killed the engine. The silence that followed was heavy. The valet runners, usually quick to open doors, stood frozen in absolute awe.

The driver’s side door swung open, lifting straight up into the air like a bird's wing.

Julian stepped out into the bright lights of the hotel entrance. He looked flawless. His dark, forty-thousand-dollar Vicuña wool suit hugged his broad shoulders perfectly. His diamond cufflinks sparkled under the streetlamps. His heavy platinum watch caught the light, silently screaming wealth and power. Because of the System's physical boost, his posture was tall and dominant, his face clear and striking.

The hotel guests whispered to each other, their eyes wide.

"Who is that?" a woman in a red silk dress whispered to her husband. "Is he a prince?"

"I have never seen him before," the husband replied, staring at the Koenigsegg. "But whoever he is, he owns the world."

Julian casually tossed the heavy, silver car key to the head valet, who scrambled to catch it like it was made of fragile glass. "Keep it close to the front," Julian said smoothly. "I won't be staying long."

Julian walked confidently up the red carpet toward the grand double doors of the hotel. However, his path was suddenly blocked.

Two massive bouncers stepped in front of him. They wore matching black suits and had coiled earpieces in their ears. They looked like professional linebackers.

"Good evening, sir," the first bouncer said. His voice was polite but firm. He could see Julian was clearly wealthy, but he still had a job to do. "May I have your name for the guest list? Tonight is a private charity gala hosted by Rutherford Investments."

"Julian Musk," Julian replied calmly, not breaking his stride until he was just inches from the giant man.

The second bouncer held a glowing digital tablet. He scrolled his thick finger down the screen, checking the V section. He frowned. "I apologize, Mr. Musk. Your name is not on the VIP guest list. I cannot let you inside."

"Check again," Julian said.

"I already did, sir," the bouncer replied, crossing his thick arms. "No invitation, no entry. I am going to have to ask you to step aside."

Julian did not flinch. He did not get angry or argue. He simply reached into the inner pocket of his suit jacket. Earlier, the System had generated a thick stack of physical cash for his "walking around money" directly into his pocket.

Julian pulled out a heavy, banded stack of crisp, new one-hundred-dollar bills. It was easily ten thousand dollars in pure cash.

He calmly tapped the thick stack of money against the bouncer’s chest. "I think you made a mistake. My invitation is right here."

The bouncer looked down at the massive brick of cash. His eyes went wide. Ten thousand dollars was more than he made in two months of standing in the cold. The second bouncer leaned in, staring at the money with a dropped jaw.

Julian did not wait for an answer. He smoothly slid the stack of bills into the front pocket of the first bouncer's suit jacket. Then, he pulled out a second, identical stack of hundreds and slid it into the second bouncer's pocket.

Twenty thousand dollars in total. Just to open a door.

"Enjoy your night, gentlemen," Julian said softly.

The two giant men looked at each other, then quickly looked down at the ground. They instantly stepped aside, grabbing the heavy brass handles of the hotel doors and pulling them wide open.

"Welcome to the Platinum Grand, Mr. Musk," the first bouncer said, bowing his head respectfully. "Have a wonderful evening."

Julian walked through the doors and entered the grand ballroom.

The room was a masterpiece of luxury. Massive crystal chandeliers hung from the high ceiling, casting a warm, golden glow over the crowd. Waiters in white gloves carried silver trays filled with expensive champagne and tiny, delicate appetizers. Ice sculptures shaped like soaring eagles slowly melted on the buffet tables. Hundreds of the city's richest people stood around in circles, laughing and doing business.

At the very front of the ballroom was a brightly lit stage. And standing on that stage, holding a microphone, was Marcus Rutherford.

Marcus wore his silver designer suit. He had a proud, arrogant smile plastered across his face. Standing right next to him, holding onto his arm and looking out at the crowd like a queen, was Chloe. She wore a stunning black evening gown, her hair perfectly styled.

Julian felt a sharp, bitter pain in his chest when he saw them. Just a few hours ago, Marcus had thrown him into the mud, and Chloe had called him a worthless stepping stone. They were celebrating his destruction.

Julian pushed the pain down. Focus, he told himself. Do it for Lily. Farm the points.

"Ladies and gentlemen, thank you all for coming tonight," Marcus spoke smoothly into the microphone. His voice boomed across the silent, attentive crowd. "Tonight, we are not just raising money for charity. We are celebrating the dawn of a new era in finance. I am proud to officially introduce the Rutherford Algorithm!"

The crowd broke into polite applause.

Marcus raised his hand to quiet them down, acting completely humble. "I will admit, it was not easy. I spent three long years working on this code. Late nights. Missing weekends. Sacrificing my personal life. But true genius requires sacrifice. This algorithm will change the world, and I am proud to say, I built every single line of it with my own two hands."

Chloe smiled brightly and kissed Marcus on the cheek. The crowd clapped even louder.

"Disgusting," Julian whispered to himself.

He began to walk through the crowd. With his new Charisma boost, people naturally moved out of his way. They parted like the Red Sea, turning to stare at the handsome, powerful stranger in the forty-thousand-dollar suit.

Julian walked straight to the very front of the room, stopping directly at the main VIP table situated right below the stage. The table was covered in expensive bottles of alcohol and crystal glasses.

Julian casually picked up a heavy, dark green bottle of vintage Dom Perignon champagne. He grabbed a crystal flute and poured the bubbling, golden liquid up to the brim. He did not rush. He took his time, ignoring the fact that he was standing right in the middle of Marcus's big speech.

Marcus, noticing the movement, stopped talking. He looked down from the stage.