Harem Investment System: Getting Money And Women

The tour continued, with the taxi weaving through the veins of Silicon City like a lifeline, carrying Ethan deeper into its core.

The driver, whose name Ethan had learned was Marvin, turned out to be more than just a taxi driver — he was a storyteller.

Every street had a history, every towering skyscraper had a tale, and Marvin was more than happy to share them.

"Now, this here is the business district," Marvin said as they came to a crawl in traffic. "Biggest companies in the country got their headquarters here. See that building? That's Solaris Tech, one of the leaders in AI development. And over there? That's where Titan Investments does its thing, one of the biggest real estate firms in the country."

Ethan glanced out the window. Everything looked so pristine, like the entire district had been polished just this morning.

The streets were filled with men and women in sleek suits, some on their phones, others hurrying between buildings with a sense of urgency.

Even the coffee shops and cafés here had a refined air about them, with high-end brands glowing above their doors.

"Damn," Ethan muttered. "This place feels... different from the other places."

Marvin chuckled. "Yeah, it's got that effect. You either belong here, or you don't. And trust me, the people here can tell in a second which one you are."

Ethan wasn't so sure about that. He had money, sure, but he wasn't walking around with designer labels or flashing expensive watches like the people he saw.

Still, he couldn't shake the feeling that he could fit in if he wanted to. Maybe even thrive.

Suddenly, the taxi came to a stop, the honking of impatient drivers filling the air.

Marvin sighed and tapped his fingers on the wheel. "Looks like we're in a bit of a hold-up."

Ethan looked around, seeing cars stretching down the avenue. It wasn't an accident — just pure congestion.

People moved between lanes like jaywalkers darting across the street despite the risk.

"This happen a lot?" Ethan asked.

"All the time," Marvin replied. "This city never stops, and that means traffic never does either. You got places to be, you gotta plan ahead. But hey, gives you more time to take in the sights."

Ethan did just that, watching how the city operated from the inside.

He saw businessmen adjusting their ties in the reflection of their car windows, food couriers maneuvering through the mess with alarming skill, and even street performers trying to entertain pedestrians stuck at crosswalks.

It was a chaotic symphony of movement, and yet, it worked.

After what felt like forever, the traffic started moving again, and Marvin took a different route, cutting through less crowded streets until they finally reached a new part of town.

"Alright, kid," Marvin said, pulling up in front of a high-class restaurant.

The building was sleek, modern, and oozing with elegance. Through the glass windows, Ethan could see well-dressed patrons dining under golden chandeliers, their meals plated like works of art.

"This where you drop me off?" Ethan asked, raising an eyebrow.

Marvin smirked. "You said you wanted to see what Silicon City has to offer, right? Well, here's a taste of the good life. Besides, you look like you could use a decent meal after all that sightseeing."

Ethan sighed, but there was amusement in his eyes. "Fine. How much do I owe you?"

Marvin waved him off. "You already paid me more than enough. Consider this a part of the tour package."

Ethan chuckled and stepped out of the cab, stretching his legs. He turned back to Marvin. "Thanks for the ride, old man."

Marvin snorted. "Old man? I'm fifty, not ancient. Enjoy your lunch, kid."

With that, the taxi pulled away, disappearing into the stream of traffic, leaving Ethan standing in front of the restaurant.

He glanced at the entrance, straightened his jacket, and stepped inside.

It was time to see if the food here was as good as the city itself.

...

As Ethan stepped inside the restaurant, the difference was… well he couldn't describe it.

This wasn't some standard diner or a casual eatery — this was a high-class establishment, designed to cater to those who expected nothing less than perfection.

The lighting was soft but elegant, casting a golden glow over the carefully arranged tables.

The air smelled of fine wine, aged wood, and perfectly seared meat.

Conversations were hushed, filled with the refined tones of business professionals, well-dressed couples, and those who simply belonged in places like this.

His sharp eyes took in the details — the marble floors polished so well they reflected the chandeliers, the neatly dressed waitstaff moving with precision, and the way each plate that left the kitchen looked like something out of a gourmet magazine.

It reminded him of his own VIP restaurant back at the resort, except here, it wasn't exclusive to celebrities or ultra-rich individuals.

This was a place where even the city people could dine alongside successful entrepreneurs, high-ranking executives, and those with enough money to afford this lifestyle.

He wondered just how much someone would have to invest in a business to reach this level. The thought lingered in his mind.

Was it worth it? The people here clearly had a taste for the finer things, but was it profitable enough to justify the expenses?

He found an empty table near the corner, one that offered him a good view of the restaurant but was also somewhat private.

As he pulled out the chair and sat down, a waiter approached almost instantly, dressed in a crisp black vest and white button-up shirt.

The man's professional demeanor barely flickered as he noticed Ethan's casual attire, but Ethan could tell the waiter had assessed him in a single glance, likely determining whether he belonged or not.

"Good afternoon, sir," the waiter greeted smoothly. "Would you like something to drink while you decide on your meal?"

Ethan exhaled slowly and pulled his hoodie over his head.

He didn't want unnecessary attention. If people in Silicon City recognized him as the Ethan Grey, things could get complicated. He wasn't in the mood for that.

"Just water for now," he replied, his voice casual but firm.

The waiter nodded professionally. "Still or sparkling?"

"Still," Ethan answered. He was never a fan of the fizzy nonsense.

The waiter placed a sleek, leather-bound menu in front of him before walking off, his movements efficient and practiced.

Ethan leaned back in his chair and took a glance around.

People were engaged in quiet conversations, some discussing business deals over wine, others simply enjoying expensive meals with their company.

It was a different world from the subway ride he had taken just an hour ago. The contrast between the two environments was almost laughable.

He had gone from moving through a crowded, chaotic train station to this — where wealth whispered instead of shouted, and luxury was displayed in the subtlest ways.

His gaze fell to the menu, and as he flipped it open, he nearly raised a brow at the prices.

"$120 for a steak?" he muttered under his breath.

He wasn't exactly shocked — he had been to places that charged more — but seeing it here, in a restaurant where regular people dined, made him realize just how different Silicon City was from Greyport.

In Greyport, luxury was confined to select areas, limited to high-end locations.

But here, it was woven into the very fabric of the city.

The menu itself was filled with all kinds of gourmet dishes — truffle-infused pasta, dry-aged steaks, seafood caught fresh that morning, and desserts that looked almost too artistic to eat.

He skimmed through the options before deciding on something simple but filling.

The waiter returned with his water, setting it down with a practiced grace. "Have you decided on your order, sir?"

"Yeah," Ethan said, closing the menu and handing it back. "I'll take the filet mignon, medium rare. And add a side of mashed potatoes."

"Excellent choice," the waiter said with a small nod. "Would you like to pair it with one of our recommended wines?"

Ethan thought about it for a second before shaking his head. "No wine. Just the meal."

"Understood. Your order will be out shortly."

With that, the waiter disappeared into the kitchen, leaving Ethan alone with his thoughts.

He wondered how Riley and her family were doing, he would check in when he was done here. But for now, checking out the city came first.

A faint clinking sound pulled him out of his thoughts, and he looked up to see the waiter approaching with his meal.

The plate was set in front of him with precision, and Ethan took in the sight of the perfectly seared filet mignon, the smooth, creamy mashed potatoes on the side, garnished elegantly.

"Enjoy your meal, sir," the waiter said before stepping away.

Ethan picked up his knife and fork, cutting into the steak.

The first bite was tender, rich, and perfectly cooked — exactly what he had expected from a place like this.