GOD MODE FRESHMAN: Trillionaire Simulator

Chapter 11 - 11: "Just One Room Left"

8:07 PM – Changran Residence Entrance

The restaurant's jade-carved doors reflected Fang Bochao's contorted expression as Ye Chen casually adjusted his cufflinks – a subtle flex of hand-stitched Brioni linen worth more than Fang's entire outfit. "Tell your manager I'm here," Ye instructed the trembling hostess, his voice carrying the quiet authority of someone who'd recently conquered Mount Everest via private helicopter.

"Y-yes sir!" The hostess scurried off, her stilettos clacking like a metronome counting down Fang's impending humiliation.

Fang snorted, leaning against his leased BMW's hood. "Think waving daddy's money gets you special treatment? I'm a gold member here!" He flourished his membership card like Excalibur, its holographic edges catching the light from Su Ning's diamond tennis bracelet.

[System Alert]

» Fang's Cognitive Dissonance: 92%

» Suggested Action: Activate [Nuclear Option] (Cost: 0.5 Integrity Points) @@novelbin@@

Zhang Wan whispered behind her menu: "Twenty yuan says Ye gets escorted out by security."

"Make it fifty," her friend countered. "I heard Manager Qian breaks kneecaps personally."

8:12 PM – Manager's Office

Qian Yongwen's third cigarette ash trembled over the resignation letter. Sold? The words blurred as his former boss's voice echoed through the speakerphone: "The buyer paid cash. Three times market value. Don't ask questions."

A WeChat notification shattered the silence – a dossier on "Ye Chen, 20, majority shareholder" accompanied by CCTV footage of the boy buying milk tea with Bitcoin.

"Bullshit," Qian rasped, zooming in on Ye's ¥300,000 Patek Philippe. "No freshman wears complications to lectures."

The office door burst open. "Manager! That guy Ye—"

"Not now!" Qian barked, then froze. His bloodshot eyes darted between the dossier photo and the panting waitress. "Wait...Ye Chen? Here?!"

8:15 PM – Host Stand

Fang's sneer widened as minutes ticked by. "Face it, country boy. Places like this eat trust-fund babies for appeti—"

The doors parted with a Mahjong-tile clatter. Manager Qian emerged, bowing so low his bald spot glistened under chandeliers. "Mr. Ye! Your imperial suite awaits!"

The crowd gasped. Even the AI-powered soup dumplings paused mid-steam.

"Im...perial suite?" Fang's gold card slipped from nerveless fingers. "That's for Saudi princes!"

Ye shrugged, adjusting Su Ning's chair with a fluidity born of 87 hours' secret butler training. "The acoustics are better for hearing failures cry."

[Achievement Unlocked: Social Guillotine]

» +150 XP (Total: 550/600)

» Fang's Mental Health: Stable → Chernobyl

8:45 PM – Imperial Dining Suite

The walls shimmered with silk embroidered by Yunnan nuns using platinum thread. Qian personally served the first course – caviar harvested from sturgeon massaged daily by Georgian virgins.

"Tastes like guilt," Su Ning murmured, watching Zhang Wan Instagram her third fake gasp.

"More like ¥8,888 per gram." Ye flicked a pearl onion with surgical precision. "The guilt comes when you realize this plate costs more than Fang's liver."

Qian materialized with a bow. "Mr. Ye, your 2099 Lafite Rothschild. Decanted exactly 43 minutes as instructed."

[Hidden Stat Revealed]

» Su Ning's Emotional Permafrost: 92% → 89%

» Suggested Move: Discuss blockchain voting rights

10:29 PM – Luxury Hotel Lobby

The concierge's eyes darted between Ye's SF90 keys and Su's Judith Leiber clutch shaped like a crystalized tear of capitalism. "Two rooms?"

"Two," Ye confirmed, ignoring Zhao Shuxuan's exaggerated wink as she "discreetly" tossed a durian into the revolving door.

The clerk's acne flared crimson. "Apologies! We've only got...the honeymoon suite." His smirk screamed I got you bro as he slid over a keycard with graphic Kama Sutra illustrations.

[Moral Crossroads]

» Option 1: Accept (Gain: 1000x Cashback on ¥88,888 suite / Lose: 15% Dignity)

» Option 2: Decline (Gain: "Prude" Achievement / Lose: Plot Progression)

Su's perfume – a custom blend of Antarctic ice cores and melted Van Cleef necklaces – shifted closer. "I'll take the couch."

"Don't be dramatic." Ye tossed the keycard. "The bed fits five. Shuxuan's bringing durian."

[Relationship Update]

» Su Ning's Curiosity: 50% → 63%

» New Objective: Survive Zhao's "Accidental" Livestream