Chapter 35: The Weight of the Crown
The morning air in the City was crisp, the kind of clear, biting cold that favored the ambitious. Ethan stood in the lobby of the Golden Dragon Hotel, his hands shoved deep into the pockets of a new, charcoal-grey trench coat. He still felt the aches from yesterday's brawl, but his Pseudo-Body Refining was doing its job—the bruises had faded to a dull, manageable thrum.
Before the Zillion System, Ethan had never fought a day in his life. He had spent years enduring the relentless bullying and beatings from Julian and his crooks, learning only how to curl into a ball and wait for the pain to stop. Yesterday's clash with Mark was the most difficult fight he had ever faced, and his body was feeling the toil. Even with the system's passive healing, a sharp, throbbing pain remained at his ribs—a reminder that he was still learning to bridge the gap between his refined potential and his lack of experience. But today wasn't about survival; it was about ownership.
Before meeting with the accountant to finalize the deal, Ethan headed to the private dining hall for breakfast. As soon as he sat down, a small army of staff began wheeling in rows of silver-domed platters. The air filled with the scent of a hundred different cultures. There were delicate truffle-infused omelets from France, wagyu beef sliders topped with gold leaf, towers of freshly picked exotic fruits flown in that morning from the tropics, and stacks of fluffy pancakes drizzled in syrup that cost more than a common worker's monthly wage. The amount of food was staggering—enough to feed a small village—and Ethan could barely finish a fraction of it. He took a few bites of the protein-rich beef and a sip of premium coffee, marveling at the sheer waste of luxury that was now his daily reality.
Pushing the nearly full plates aside, he stood up. The pain in his ribs spiked for a second, but he ignored it, heading toward the Chairman's office.
Meanwhile, inside the Chairman's office, Arthur Sterling, the hotel's lead accountant, was pacing the plush Persian rug. The office itself was a temple of old-world power: walls lined with hand-carved mahogany bookshelves, a massive desk made from a single slab of obsidian, and floor-to-ceiling windows that looked out over the city like a king's balcony.
Arthur had been the Sterling family's lead accountant for decades. He knew exactly what this hotel was worth down to the last cent. He remembered the shock that rippled through the financial team when Ethan had dropped the initial twenty billion dollars as a mere down payment. Most billionaires would have used twenty billion to launch an entire tech empire or buy up vast tracts of land for development. To use it as a "deposit" was unheard of.
Arthur also knew about the additional ten billion dollars Ethan had spent just to secure his seat as a Provincial Overseer. As he adjusted his glasses, Arthur couldn't help but wonder what kind of monster of a family Ethan McCain came from. What kind of lineage could control that much liquid capital without a single blink? He was here today for Ethan to balance the final twenty billion dollars for the total acquisition.
The heavy doors creaked open, and Ethan stepped in.
"Mr. McCain," Arthur said, bowing slightly more than was professionally necessary. "I have the final transfer documents ready. Once the remaining twenty billion is settled, the Golden Dragon—and everything within these walls—is legally yours."
Ethan walked to the obsidian desk, his movements slow to protect his bruised ribs. "Let's get it over with, Arthur. I have a company to build."
With a few swift taps on his secure device, Ethan authorized the transfer. He watched the progress bar on the monitor—the digital movement of $20,000,000,000.00. In seconds, the screen flashed green: TRANSACTION COMPLETE.
[ZILLION SYSTEM INTERFACE]
Host: Ethan McCain
Status: Owner of Golden Dragon Hotel (Full Title)
Wealth: $9,819,921,780,000,000.00
System Points (SP): 180 (+20 for Full Acquisition)
Condition: Rib Contusion (Healing 65%)
"It is done," Arthur whispered, sounding almost breathless. "The hotel is yours, sir."
Ethan looked out the window at the city below. The Golden Dragon was his, but he wasn't keeping it for himself. His plan was already in motion: once the paperwork for Black Global Holdings was finalized, he would transfer the ownership of this fortress to his parents, ensuring they would never have to worry about a roof over their heads or a threat to their safety again.
The office doors opened again, and Mark stepped in. Behind him was a line of six individuals who looked like they had been forged in a furnace. They didn't wear uniforms, but their disciplined stances and the way their eyes scanned every corner of the room spoke volumes.
Mark stepped forward. "Mr. McCain, these are the veterans I promised. They don't know you, and they don't know each other yet. Aside from me, they are complete strangers, but their records are spotless."
Ethan looked them over, feeling the weight of their collective experience. "I'm paying for the best. Your base salary starts at $50,000 a month. You will be stationed between here and the Provincial City as we expand." He turned his gaze to Mark. "Mark, your salary will be $150,000 a month. You are their supervisor. You report only to me."
The group exchanged brief, stunned glances. The pay was astronomical, even for top-tier mercenaries. Mark nodded firmly, acknowledging the weight of the trust—and the paycheck. "Understood, sir. We'll begin the rotation immediately."
After they filed out, Bernie Thorne entered. He looked at Ethan with an expression of deep intrigue. They spent the next hour discussing the urban redevelopment project Ethan had been investigating. Ethan didn't hesitate; he authorized a massive payment to secure a 60 percent controlling stake in the venture, effectively planting the flag of Black Global Holdings in the city's future.
As the business concluded, Bernie's tone shifted. "Ethan, my father, Bernie Thorne Sr., requested your presence at our home this evening."
Ethan blinked. He had a lot on his plate, and a social visit felt out of place. "A request? I'm quite busy, Bernie, I really have lots on my plate for now, how about another day."
"It's not a command," Bernie clarified, his voice dropping an octave. "But he said it's for your benefits. He mentioned he has something specific to discuss with you... and something important to give you."
Ethan's mind stalled. Something to give me?. A sense of unease and curiosity warred in his chest. What could a man like elder Thorne have to give a Provincial Overseer who already had everything?
"Tell him I'll be there," Ethan said, his voice thoughtful.