The Golden Crescent Boulevard pulsed with the effortless elegance of Nova Prime's elite, its wide marble walkways reflecting the afternoon sun in shimmering patterns that danced like liquid gold. Ethan Voss stepped out of Elysian Couture's revolving doors, the cool rush of conditioned air giving way to the warm, perfumed breeze of the district. Scents mingled intoxicatingly—fresh blooms from curated floral installations lining the boulevard, subtle notes of high-end fragrances worn by passing shoppers, and the distant aroma of gourmet street artisans crafting delicate confections for the affluent. Holographic billboards towered overhead, showcasing the latest collections: models gliding in virtual couture, jewels sparkling in magnified glory, luxury vehicles hovering in simulated high-speed chases.
Valets had already retrieved his Vortex Thunderbolt from the VIP zone, the supercar idling with a low, predatory growl that turned heads anew. Drones buzzed overhead, coordinating deliveries—his massive Elysian purchases en route to the Apex Pinnacle Towers penthouse via secure aerial transport. Staff from the store bowed deeply as he passed, their earlier subtle skepticism transformed into fervent deference. The manager had even slipped him a personal contact card, promising exclusive previews of upcoming seasonal drops.
Ethan slid into the driver's seat, the interior enveloping him in luxury once more—adaptive seats molding perfectly to his elixir-enhanced frame, ambient lighting shifting to a invigorating crimson hue. The doors lowered with a satisfying whisper, sealing him in his mobile throne. A quick mental command via the holographic interface set the next destination: Celestial Gems, the boulevard's crown jewel for high jewelry and timepieces. Auroria's premier house for diamonds, rare gems, and watches that weren't just accessories—they were statements of power, heritage, and unassailable wealth.
The short drive along the curving boulevard was a delight. God-level mastery allowed him to navigate the light luxury traffic with balletic precision—gentle accelerations sending surges of power through the chassis, corners taken with flawless grip. Pedestrians paused to admire the Thunderbolt's obsidian form streaking past, phones raised for quick captures. In Nova Prime, ostentation was currency, and Ethan was rapidly accumulating it.
Parking again in a priority valet bay—scanners granting instant access—Ethan emerged into the sunlight. The Celestial Gems flagship loomed ahead: a architectural marvel of crystalline glass and platinum accents, facade designed to mimic a massive faceted diamond. Entrance flanked by subtle security in bespoke suits, doors parting automatically with a soft chime. Inside, the atmosphere was reverent, almost sacred—dimmed lighting focused on display cases like museum exhibits, soft classical Aurorian orchestral pieces playing faintly, air cooled and scented with a neutral, clean elegance that let the gems shine uncompromised.
Display pedestals showcased masterpieces: necklaces dripping with flawless diamonds sourced from Auroria's northern mines, rings encrusted with rare colored stones that shifted hues under light, bracelets woven from precious metals with intricate engravings. Watch sections dominated one wing—mechanical marvels with tourbillons spinning hypnotically, chronographs accurate to cosmic standards, limited editions encased in sapphire crystals.
Customers were sparse but unmistakable elite: older tycoons consulting with advisors, young heiresses trying on earrings with companions, couples selecting engagement pieces under expert guidance. Sales associates—trained to perfection—moved with poised grace, attired in understated uniforms that whispered sophistication.
Ethan entered casually, his temporary high-end basics from the penthouse fitting seamlessly now amid the opulence. Heads turned subtly—his perfected physique and commanding presence drawing appreciative glances from women browsing nearby, curious appraisals from men.
A senior associate approached promptly—a polished woman in her thirties, name tag "Evelyn," with an aura of quiet authority. "Good afternoon, sir. Welcome to Celestial Gems. Are you seeking something specific today—timepieces, jewelry for yourself or a gift, perhaps custom commissions?"
Her tone was warm, professional—eyes assessing subtly but respectfully. The Elysian black card's reputation traveled fast in these circles; word spread via discreet networks.
"Both," Ethan replied smoothly, voice deep and confident. "A signature watch first—top limited edition. Then jewelry: pieces for family, and perhaps something personal."
Evelyn's eyes lit with genuine interest. "Excellent choices, sir. Please, this way to our prestige watch salon."
She led him to a private lounge area—plush velvet seating, holographic projectors for detailed views, a sommelier station offering chilled sparkling waters infused with rare essences or premium spirits for longer consultations. Other associates joined discreetly, fetching selections.
First, the watches. Cases unlocked with biometric gloves: a Vanguard Eternal Chronos—platinum case, meteorite dial, complications including perpetual calendar and moon phase. Price: 8 million credits. Another: the Apex Revenant Tourbillon, skeletonized movement visible, encrusted with baguette diamonds. 12 million.
Ethan tried several, wrist enhanced by the elixir making even heavy pieces sit perfectly. God-level intuition guided choices—aesthetics balanced with functionality.
"I'll take the Revenant Tourbillon," he decided. "And that Eternal Chronos as a backup. Add engravings—family initials on the case backs."
Evelyn nodded approvingly, totals climbing swiftly.
Jewelry next: for his mother, an elegant diamond necklace with pendant—flawless stones in a cascading design evoking river flows, matching earrings. For sister Elena—youthful yet sophisticated: a bracelet with colorful gems symbolizing vitality, paired with stud earrings.
Personal: a signet ring in blackened platinum with a massive central diamond, subtle but commanding. Cufflinks for suits—onyx inlaid with micro-engravings.
Totals soared past 50 million as customs added—priority crafting for flawless delivery.
At the private payment terminal—secluded booth with privacy screens—Evelyn processed. "Your selections total 68,500,000 credits, sir. Including express commissions."
The black card swiped seamlessly—approval instant, no flicker.
Evelyn's composure held, but subtle awe shone. "Thank you, sir. Discreet delivery to your specified residence—Apex Pinnacle Towers?"
Confirmed.
As packaging finalized—velvet boxes in branded carriers, drones prepped—a disturbance brewed nearby.
In the main salon, a boisterous young man—mid-twenties, flashy attire overloaded with logos, accompanied by two glamorous women dripping in accessories—argued loudly with an associate.
"This diamond? Subpar! I want the absolute best—something worthy of my status. Don't waste my time with mid-tier trash."
His voice carried, drawing winces from staff. The women giggled, one clinging to his arm.
Associate remained professional: "Sir, this is our flagship Imperial Solitaire—200 carats, perfect clarity. Priced at 150 million."
"Tch, too small. And your service? Mediocre. Some nobody over there drops pocket change and gets fawned over?"
Eyes turned—pointing subtly toward Ethan's lounge.
The young man strutted closer, entourage in tow. "Hey, you. Heard you spent big—black card flex? Probably maxed out or daddy's. Real tycoons don't need to show off in basic fits."
Classic provocation—envy masked as superiority.
Ethan turned calmly, appraising. The man reeked of second-generation arrogance—wealth inherited, not earned.
Staff tensed—Evelyn signaling security discreetly.
Ethan smiled faintly. "Showing off? Merely shopping. But if we're comparing..."
He addressed Evelyn: "Add that Imperial Solitaire display—the full set with matching ring and earrings. Gift wrap separately."
Another 200 million.
Then, casually: "And the store's limited Aurora Nebula collection—all pieces."
Gasps. That collection—rare gems mimicking cosmic phenomena, total value exceeding half a billion. Reserved for top clients.
Evelyn confirmed swiftly—black card approving the billion-plus transaction without hesitation.
Young man's face paled, mouth opening soundlessly. His companions' eyes shifted—lingering on Ethan with newfound interest, whispers of "Who is he?"
Deflated, he muttered excuses, dragging his group out hastily—purchases abandoned.
Store erupted in subtle applause from staff. Manager emerged personally: "Sir, an honor. Lifetime platinum membership, private vault access, and future exclusives reserved for you."
Ethan nodded graciously, exiting amid bows.
Back in the Thunderbolt, laughter escaped fully. Second face-slap of the day—sweeter than the first.
Purchases drone-delivered soon. But the spree continued—next, perhaps tech upgrades: flagship Nexus devices, custom configurations.
Or a gourmet meal at a riverside floating restaurant.
Wealth's power was intoxicating.
As the sun dipped lower, Nova Prime's lights began igniting—his empire awakening.
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