The game was set in the mighty nation of Nox, the world's reigning superpower. Within its sprawling borders lay four distinct territories. Dafnir, Falusha, Orgsoth, and Rennes, each with its own culture, conflicts, and place in the grand political chessboard.
Within Dafnir, were two class systems, since the entire events of the game took place in the 1900s. The two class systems were very different, with the first being royalty. From queens to barons, they lived in large castles overlooking the sunset and the beautiful coasts.
Then the second class, the commoners. Those unblessed by fate, born and forced to work like regular, live like regular, act like regular. They worked their asses off, doing their best to stay afloat in a world such as this.
And while this side of the world's story was never particularly interesting to him, seeing it up close was definitely something.
Stephen walked through the streets of Harksvell, the first city of Dafnir. And the first thing he noticed was how lively the world seemed. The people around him didn't feel like lines of code, but... people.
They walked around, stumbling drunk, staring into windows, looking at things they couldn't afford. This wasn't how it was in the game, and this wasn't a new game plus either.
This was real life.
But it wasn't, he had to convince himself it wasn't.
"I have to find the brothel and farm for a while." He said to himself, "do that then head over to Grandbelm residence."
"And what will you be doing once you arrive there?" The system asked, its voice cutting through the chatter on the street.
"I haven't gotten that far, okay?" Stephen said, walking past a street filled to the brim with dark alleys and cardboard boxes.
A homeless shelter.
A ton of them stretched out before him.
This was the reality of the world now, the game. Dafnir, the nation he found himself in, was caught in internal turmoil. The southern kingdom of Basque and the western kingdom of Eldoria stood at odds, their perpetual war bleeding into everyday life. Scenes like this were the result.
Where disputes in trade made the cost of living skyrocket, which meant people couldn't afford basic necessities anymore.
"This goes on until I solve it doesn't it?" Stephen asked, stopping before carrying on.
"Like it did before." The system replied.
"And there's no way I can do it quicker is there—" Stephen stopped, shaking his head. "No, nevermind."
"Alright."
This world wasn't real, no matter how much his mind tried to convince him otherwise. These people weren't real either. When he beat the game, they'd vanish into pixels, that's all they were. Just lines of code with prerecorded voice lines. Caring about them was pointless.
"It's pointless!" He said, slapping himself across the face. Then he shook his head, then his entire body.
Then they continued down the road, heading toward Seventeenth street, a name popular to many people who'd played this game before him. He might not have seen any reviews, but he definitely heard the buzz.
And why?
It was simple.
Seventeenth Street featured a mechanic unseen in most visual novels. Sex.
"System, what's the easiest way to make money?"
"Easiest?" it replied. "Assuming you're only talking about this world, wouldn't that be stealing from the royal cabinet?"
Stephen crossed his arms into an exaggerated X as he turned a corner onto a new street. "Nope. The easiest way to make money is to leverage the one thing everybody wants... but can't get."
He came to a stop.
At the end of the road, glowing in obnoxious neon red and velvet purple, stood a brothel. Its lights cut through the dark like a siren call. If this world had speakers, he was pretty sure they'd be blasting Tup** on wide speakers.
"The Love Supreme Brothel..." the system read aloud, "So I'm assuming that one thing is sex?"
"Bingo," Stephen said, slipping into his best professor voice. "Dafnir's got a population of about two million people. Let's lowball and say there are more men than women."
"Okay... and what does that imply?"
"It implies that there are at least five hundred thousand men out there, horny and hopeless."
"I'm assuming you're one of them."
"Ha-ha," Stephen deadpanned. "But seriously. The world's a mess, but people still have gold and nowhere good to spend it. That's where supply and demand comes in."
"So brothels become the economic pressure valves. I see." The system paused. "Still not sure why you need money though."
"I wouldn't... if I were sticking to the original game route." Stephen said, pushing open the heavy door to the brothel. Inside, velvet cushions lined the walls and the lighting was dimmed, most likely for client obscurity. "But you already told me: if I get disowned, I don't die."
The system didn't respond immediately.
"So to that end..." Stephen strode up to the front desk.
A receptionist bowed politely and slid a card across the counter.
"I'll follow a different path. One I've never tried before."
He picked up the card. His eyes scanned the brochure.
✦ 𝐋𝐎𝐕𝐄 𝐒𝐔𝐏𝐑𝐄𝐌𝐄 ✦
❖ Full Night Experience – 180 Gold
Time: Sundown to First Bell.
Includes:
• Massage— Your pace, your grip. Oils available upon request.
• Vanilla ice— Recommended for first timers, a soft and easy ride.
• Threesome— You choose the company. All genders, no limits.
• Closed doors— Anti-sound, private rooms. What goes on is your business and your business alone.
• Refreshments— House liquors, herbal haze, Crystal-root wine. First glass is always free.
• Post-Session Healing— Our girls know how to sew. Minor wounds are treated, by the sexiest hands.
Stephen laughed, then pushed it back to her. He wasn't here for sex or anything so crude. He had long since transcended the want for such frugalities, by the power of his right hand.
Instead. What he wanted was simple.
"Could you please send me to the owner of the brothel instead?"
"The owner?" she asked, raising a brow. "Madam Verre doesn't accept visitors who are..."
Her eyes dropped briefly to his pants.
"...inadequate."
"She just called you small," the system helpfully noted.
Stephen remained unmoved.
"No matter. I'm not here for worldly pleasures," he said with princely poise. "I have a business proposal. One that could bring her brothel to the forefront of the world... and beyond."
The receptionist stared at him, expressionless. Then slowly reached for a small telephone, pressing it to her ear.
"So, to clarify," she said. "You're not interested in any of our services, and you want to meet Madam Verre for a business pitch?"
"Exactly."
For a moment, there was silence. Stephen almost believed it might work.
"Perfect," she said at last, lowering the phone and smiling politely. Then gestured toward the exit. "I'll have to ask you to leave."
Stephen blinked. "Leave? No... you don't understand. This is a chance to make millions! Your name could go global. We're talking legendary profits, intercontinental—"
"I suggest you take your leave, boy," a voice rumbled from behind him.
Stephen turned, grinning.
"Ah, calling the guards? A bold move. But when your boss finds out you let the opportunity of a lifetime slip away, you'll regret—"
"Is that so?" another voice said, deeper, huskier.
Stephen turned the rest of the way.
Two giants stood behind him, shirtless, oiled, and wearing tight leather BDSM masks that hid everything but their eyes and widened grins.
"I assume you fine gentlemen are the security." He asked, already shrinking.
"You got that right," one of them said, licking his lips. "Now do we have a problem? I hope we have a problem."
Already by the door, hand twisting the doorknob. He replied.
"Problem?" Stephen shook his head, with a scoff. "Me? Problem, no, never. I hate problems, and since there's obviously no problem. I'll be on my way—"
He shut the door behind him, letting out a long sigh and after a moment. He started walking.
"I'm assuming that wasn't how you thought it would go."
"No," Stephen muttered. "I only realized how stupid I sounded after I walked in. If I want to partner with the owner, I need to have something she actually wants. God, negotiations are hard when you can't see the future."
"Is that so?" the system said, then pressed again. "But why do you need money so badly? I don't see how it changes anything."
Stephen stopped, hand on his hip, one finger wagging dramatically in the air.
"Because you're still looking at the world with your feeble little system brain. The Grandbelm family has betrothed their daughter for one reason, and one reason only—"
"To acquire more fortune."
Stephen groaned. "That was your cue to get it wrong. Then I correct you. Then you ask me what the real reason is."
"...Oh. What's the real reason then?"
"Forget it." He waved it off. "Point is, they're marrying her off purely for the money. That's the whole play, to get money to keep their noble name afloat."
"So you're planning to hijack the marriage by offering more money?"
"Exactly." Stephen said, a proud smirk on his face. "That's phase one. Phase two is winning Claris over."
"Well, at least now I get your motives," the system replied. "But seeing as you just failed to meet the brothel owner, what's your next move?"
"That is the best part about a new route my dear invisible friend." Stephen said. "I have no idea!"