The grand hall of the Halstead estate shimmered under the soft glow of floating holo-lights, their intricate patterns dancing across white stone walls and reflecting off the polished obsidian floor.
The capital's elite—chaebols, megacorp executives, and lower-circle power players—filled the space, their bespoke outfits and Cryon-infused glasses clinking in a symphony of wealth.
The air thrummed with anticipation as Evan Quillian, known to all as Young Master Quillian, stepped forward, the black draw box clutched in his hands.
His Aurellion Couture suit, its 1,500,000 AR dragon embroidery glinting like molten silver, hugged his frame, accentuating his pale skin and styled hair.
The 2,500,000 AR Valthorne Chronograph gleamed on his wrist, sealing his princely demeanor, honed to perfection by the System's 100% mastered etiquette training.
Every eye in the hall locked onto him, the murmurs that had followed his arrival—sparked by Lian Veyron opening his car door and Rylan's deferential greeting—now a hushed fever pitch.
The System's hum pulsed faintly in Evan's mind, urging him to execute the moment flawlessly, the 10,000,000 AR investment mission a distant pressure compared to this pivotal gift.
Rylan Halstead stood at the center of the stage, his silver earpiece catching the light, his tailored suit slightly rumpled from the evening's demands.
Flanking him were his parents, Lord Cedric Halstead and Lady Elara Halstead, their expressions a mix of pride and curiosity.
The gift-giving ceremony had already dazzled the crowd—Cedric and Elara's 2% share in Halstead Enterprises, a conglomerate worth billions of AR, had set the tone.
Guests had followed with lavish offerings: a 500,000 AR Elara Gems pendant, a 1,200,000 AR Vynix prototype hoverbike, a 750,000 AR Cryon vintage collection.
Each gift had fueled whispers, but Evan's turn silenced the hall, the weight of his presence as Young Master Quillian commanding absolute attention.
Evan approached Rylan, his steps measured, his posture exuding the effortless authority the System had drilled into him.
The black draw box, its surface sleek and unadorned save for a faint holo-circuit shimmer, felt heavy in his hands—not from weight, but from the gamble it represented.
The System's plan was bold: let Rylan draw one of five mystery keys, with the twist that the remaining keys would vanish.
'This better work,' Evan thought, his inward smirk masked by a calm smile.
He stopped before Rylan, the crowd leaning forward, their breaths held.
"Young Master Halstead," Evan said, his voice smooth and resonant, carrying the refined lilt of his training.
"Happy birthday. My gift is a bit.... unconventional." He lifted the box, its presence drawing gasps. "Inside are five keys. All you need to do is draw one. What it unlocks is yours."
The hall erupted in murmurs, the crowd's intrigue spiking.
"Five keys?" a chaebol daughter whispered, her Elara Gems necklace glinting.
"What kind of gift is that?" A megacorp VP nearby leaned in, his voice low.
"It's bold. Nobody's done this at a major banquet."
Another guest, clutching a Cryon glass, muttered, "It's got to be something insane."
The uniqueness of the gift—a mystery box at a high-society event—was unprecedented, even among the capital's elite families.
Eyes darted between Evan's composed expression and the box, the dragon embroidery on his suit amplifying the moment's mystique.
Rylan's grin widened, his fatigue forgotten, a spark of excitement in his eyes.
"Young Master Quillian, you don't do anything halfway, do you?" he said, his tone warm but deferential.
He glanced at Kael, Sylas, Varen, and Lian, who stood nearby, their own curiosity evident.
"Alright, let's see what this is."
He reached into the box, his hand disappearing into its shadowed interior, and pulled out a sleek key fob, its surface glowing with a holo-display that projected a miniature image of a supercar.
The crowd gasped, the sound rippling through the hall. The fob's hologram revealed a Seraphyx Nova, a supercar so exclusive it was whispered about in upper-circle circles.
Valued at 12,000,000 AR, only ten existed worldwide, each a masterpiece of engineering with a crystalline chassis that refracted light like a prism and a propulsion system that rivaled off-world shuttles.
Unlike Evan's Vynix Zephyr and Kryon Phantom, the Seraphyx Nova wasn't his—it was a System-provided gift, its presence outside the estate's gates a calculated move to cement his status.
Rylan's jaw dropped, his hand frozen around the fob.
"A Seraphyx Nova?" he said, his voice a mix of disbelief and awe. "Young Master Quillian, this is… unreal."
The crowd's murmurs exploded into a frenzy.
"Twelve million AR!" a chaebol son hissed.
"Only ten in the world!" a woman in a 500,000 AR gown gasped.
"If one key's for a Nova, what were the others?" another muttered, eyes wide.
"He's giving away that kind of gift!?"
The implication—that the vanished keys might have unlocked similar treasures—sent shockwaves through the hall.
"How rich is this Quillian?" a tech mogul whispered, his dataslate forgotten.
"must be from upper circle, no question," another replied, her voice hushed.
Rylan, recovering, laughed, holding up the fob.
"Young Master Quillian, you sure this isn't a replica?" he joked, his tone light but his eyes searching Evan's face. "I mean, a Seraphyx Nova? You're making my hoverbike look like scrap."
Evan's smile was measured, his poise unwavering.
"It's real, Rylan," he said, his voice carrying quiet confidence. "And it's waiting outside the gate. Shall we check?"
The System's hum buzzed faintly, approving his delivery. The crowd's anticipation surged, guests craning to see as Evan gestured toward the exit.
Rylan nodded, still stunned, and led the way, Kael, Sylas, Varen, and Lian close behind. The crowd followed, spilling out into the estate's driveway, where the Seraphyx Nova sat under holo-lights, its crystalline chassis refracting colors in a mesmerizing display.
Its sleek curves and glowing undercarriage drew gasps, its 12,000,000 AR price tag a legend in automotive circles.
"It's real," Kael muttered, his Vynix Motors pride bruised.
"That's… perfection," Sylas said, his Cryon bottle forgotten.
Varen, usually stoic, whistled. "You don't mess around, Young Master Quillian."
Rylan circled the car, his fingers brushing its surface, reluctance flickering in his eyes.
"Young Master Quillian, this is too much," he said, his voice low. "A Seraphyx Nova? I can't—"
"You can," Evan interrupted, his tone firm but warm, the System's training guiding him.
"It's your birthday, Rylan. Consider it a gesture of friendship."
Inwardly, he marveled at his own calm.
'The System's playing chess while I'm just moving pieces,' he thought, the crowd's awe fueling his confidence.
The guests' murmurs grew louder, their voices a chorus of speculation.
"He gave a 12,000,000 AR car like it's nothing," a megacorp VP muttered, his dataslate recording the moment.
"Nobody else has this kind of power. Who is he?" another asked, her gaze fixed on Evan's princely demeanor.
"Young Master Quillian's wealth is unreal," a lower-circle investor hissed.
Evan stood beside the Nova, his expression composed, the black draw box still in hand, its remaining keys now vanished as the System had warned.
The crowd's whispers wrapped around him, their awe cementing his status as Young Master Quillian. Rylan, still holding the fob, turned to him, his grin genuine.
"Young Master Quillian, I don't know what to say. Thank you."
The crowd applauded, but their eyes stayed on Evan, the mysterious heir whose every move screamed power and wealth.
The grand hall of the Halstead estate shimmered under the cascading glow of holo-lights, their intricate patterns weaving across white stone walls and polished obsidian floors.
The air thrummed with the clink of Cryon-infused glasses and the low hum of high-society chatter, the capital's elite—chaebols, megacorp executives, and lower-circle power players—still buzzing from the gift-giving ceremony.
Evan Quillian, known as Young Master Quillian, stood beside the Seraphyx Nova's key fob in Rylan Halstead's hand, its 12,000,000 AR value a legend now etched into the banquet's lore.
His Aurellion Couture suit, its 1,500,000 AR dragon embroidery glinting like molten silver, and the 2,500,000 AR Valthorne Chronograph on his wrist amplified his princely aura, honed by the System's 100% mastered etiquette training.
The crowd's murmurs—speculating about his hermit family ties, his sealed records, and the vanished keys in the black draw box—followed him like a shadow, their awe cementing his untouchable status.
The gift-giving ceremony concluded with a final round of applause, the guests dispersing to mingle, their whispers trailing Evan.
Lord Cedric Halstead and Lady Elara Halstead descended from the stage, congratulating Rylan on a successful evening, their 2% share in Halstead Enterprises—worth billions of AR—still a topic of envy.
The other gifts, lavish as they were—an Elara Gems pendant (500,000 AR), a Vynix prototype hoverbike (1,200,000 AR), a Cryon vintage collection (750,000 AR)—paled beside Evan's Seraphyx Nova, its unprecedented presentation via the mystery box setting a new standard for high-society banquets.
Rylan, clutching the fob, led Evan, Kael Drayce, Sylas Norren, Varen Calder, and Lian Veyron to a private lounge area, a secluded enclave of plush velvet sofas and a glowing holo-table, shielded from the main hall's noise by soundproof panels.
The group sprawled across the sofas, their tailored outfits—Kael's Vynix leather, Sylas's Cryon chic, Varen's skyline-motif suit, Lian's silk ensemble—reflecting their rising status in the lower circle's middle ranks.
Rylan set the Seraphyx Nova's fob on the table, its holo-display still projecting the car's crystalline chassis, drawing glances from his friends.
A server delivered a tray of Vynara Reserve wine, its 10,000 AR-per-bottle richness a quiet flex, and Evan accepted a glass with a practiced nod, his movements fluid and noble, the System's training now second nature.
He sipped slowly, leaning back, content to listen as the group's banter reignited, their voices a mix of camaraderie and competitive edge.
"Rylan, you lucky bastard," Kael said, grinning as he swirled his wine. "A Seraphyx Nova? I'm in the car business, and even I can't get near one. Twelve million AR, and Young Master Quillian just hands it over like it's pocket change."
He shot Evan a look, half-admiring, half-probing.
Rylan laughed, shaking his head, his silver earpiece glinting.
"Don't remind me, Kael. I'm still half-convinced it's a hologram. Young Master Quillian, you've set a bar I can't touch."
He raised his glass to Evan, his deference clear but his tone warm. "Seriously, that mystery box? Nobody's pulling that off again."
Sylas, lounging with his Cryon cocktail, smirked.
"Forget the car—Young Master Quillian's suit is stealing the show. Aurellion Couture, dragon embroidery? That's a 1,500,000 AR flex. My vintage collection looks like a vending drone special now."
He glanced at Evan, his sharp cheekbones catching the light. "Where do you even find a tailor like that, Young Master Quillian?"
Evan smiled faintly, deflecting with ease, his voice smooth and refined.
"Good craftsmen are worth their price," he said, sipping his wine, the System's hum approving his restraint.
'Can't say the System dropped it in my closet,' he thought, his poise masking the absurdity of his situation—an orphan turned elite in weeks.
Varen, ever serious, crossed his arms, his skyline-motif suit creasing.
"You're all focused on flash. That mystery box was strategy. Five keys, one draw. Young Master Quillian, you had the whole hall eating out of your hand."
He nodded at Evan, his usual stoicism tinged with respect. "My tower block deal's 200 million AR, but it's boring next to that."
Lian, his silk suit shimmering, leaned forward, his polished demeanor carrying a rare excitement.
"Varen's right. The upper circle's going to talk about this for months. Young Master Quillian, that gift was… unprecedented. Even my father's Elara Gems deals don't carry that kind of theater."
His eyes flicked to the Valthorne Chronograph, its 2,500,000 AR rarity a quiet statement. "You've redefined what a banquet gift can be."
Evan nodded, his smile measured, letting their praise wash over him.
"I'm glad you approve, gentlemen," he said, his tone warm but authoritative, the System's training guiding every word.
Inwardly, he marveled at their reactions, the weight of his role as Young Master Quillian sinking in.
He thought, the black card's 10,000,000 AR investment mission a distant pressure. 'I'm just following the System's playbook.'
As the group continued, their banter shifted to lighter topics—Kael roasting Sylas for a botched Cryon ad campaign that went viral for the wrong reasons, Sylas firing back about Kael's "gaudy" Vynix hovercar designs, Varen grumbling about a client who tried to haggle a 50,000,000 AR penthouse down to "a steal" at 40,000,000 AR.
Rylan laughed, recounting a Nexus Interactive glitch that turned players into floating vending drones, costing him a week's sleep.
"My dad nearly cut my allowance," he said, grinning. "What about you, Young Master Quillian? Ever have a project go sideways?"
Evan deflected again, his smile faint. "I keep my ventures low-key," he said, his voice smooth, sipping his wine to dodge further probing.
'Sideways? My whole life's a gamble now,' he thought, the Seraphyx Nova's success bolstering his confidence.
The group chuckled, interpreting his vagueness as the quiet power of a hermit family scion, their deference deepening.
Inside his mind, the System's azure panel flickered, its voice clinical but encouraging.
[Performance evaluation: Optimal. The mystery box gift has generated significant social impact, aligning with mission objectives to build connections.]
[Preliminary analysis suggests your gift may be hailed as the best of the evening.]
[If confirmed after final calculations comparing value, rarity, and impact to other gifts—2% Halstead Enterprises shares, Elara Gems pendant, Vynix hoverbike, Cryon vintage—Host may receive an additional reward. Continue maintaining Young Master Quillian persona.]
Evan's pulse quickened, though his expression remained composed.
'Another reward?' he thought, his fingers tightening slightly around the wine glass.
'The System's playing big.'
The praise fueled his resolve, the 10,000,000 AR investment mission still a looming challenge, but tonight's triumph—Rylan's awe, the crowd's whispers, the group's respect—felt like a victory.
He leaned back, sipping his Vynara Reserve, listening as Kael launched into a story about a Vynix test drive gone wrong, crashing a prototype into a holo-billboard.
The group's laughter filled the lounge, but Evan's mind was split, one half on their banter, the other on the System's promise and the path ahead.
The crowd outside the lounge continued to murmur, their voices filtering through the soundproof panels.
"Young Master Quillian's gift was unreal," a chaebol daughter whispered, her Elara Gems necklace glinting.
"A 12,000,000 AR Seraphyx Nova, and that mystery box? Who does that?"
A megacorp VP nearby nodded, his dataslate recording the night. "His suit's Aurellion, 1,500,000 AR, and that Valthorne Chronograph—2,500,000 AR. He's not just rich; he's untouchable."
Another guest, clutching a Cryon glass, leaned in. "might be from Hermit family, no question. Lian Veyron opened his door, and Rylan greeted him first. That's power."
The whispers swirled, each guest piecing together the enigma of Young Master Quillian, his every move a testament to wealth and influence beyond their grasp.
Evan, seated among Rylan and his friends, let the banter wash over him, his princely demeanor unwavering. The System's potential reward hung in his mind, a spark of anticipation.
The banquet was far from over, but Young Master Quillian had already left an indelible mark, his gift a beacon of power in a sea of ambition.