Click. As the car door closed, a figure stepped out from a heavily modified vehicle the hotel staff had never seen before. It was a well-bui
Click.
As the car door closed, a figure stepped out from a heavily modified vehicle the hotel staff had never seen before.
It was a well-built man with a buzzcut. Even in a dark suit, his muscular build was impossible to hide. The moment he stepped out and swept his gaze around, the two hotel greeters at the entrance immediately felt immense pressure.
That look—one that even the most seasoned greeters had never encountered—was nothing like those from other guests or bodyguards.
The scrutiny behind those sunglasses was like a butcher inspecting meat on a chopping block—cold, clinical, and ready to strike.
Fortunately, that terrifying gaze didn't last long. After a brief sweep of the staff, the buzzcut man turned his eyes elsewhere, scanning the surroundings for threats.
Having confirmed the area was clear, he shifted to the side and slightly bowed his head toward the inside of the car.
Following that signal, the driver's door opened. A blond young man with a small mustache stepped out. He wore no sunglasses, and his face was solemn. He too scanned the area as if double-checking for any threats. Not long after, the passenger-side door opened, and a burly man stepped out.
This man was dressed in a suit as well, but his outfit looked like it could burst at the seams from his bulging muscles. His steps were heavy and measured, exuding restrained strength. Though not particularly tall, he had a presence that felt like a looming mountain.
After these obvious bodyguards had exited and double-checked their surroundings, the main guest finally stepped out and appeared before the hotel staff.
He was a young man, no more than twenty, with black hair and a strikingly handsome face.
Wearing a finely tailored suit that hugged his figure perfectly, he moved with confidence and composure. Every motion exuded elegance and discipline, like someone raised in a world of refinement. He was the kind of person who would stand out even in a crowd—undeniably, unmistakably noble.
"We've got a VIP," the two greeters silently exchanged glances and instinctively straightened their postures, ready to receive the distinguished guest.
Watching them prepare to greet him, V's voice came through the comms, full of surprise: "Karl, your movements are way too smooth. For a second, I really thought you were the heir of some megacorp. I thought you were just bluffing—but damn, you really pulled it off!"
"Please, it's just acting. Watch a braindance or two and mimic what you see—piece of cake. I told you it'd be fine," Karl replied nonchalantly. "Alright, let's move. Everyone remember your roles? Just follow T-Bug's setup exactly."
"Wait a sec—activating Hera's auto-parking program. Gotta make sure it settles in nice and neat," said Oliver.
Karl paused mid-step. "How many mods did you guys cram into this thing? Desert modifications, morphing exteriors, now even automation?"
"Just some minor tweaks," Oliver said with a grin.
Once parked, the vehicle—now looking nothing like the original Skysphere Hera—was ready. Without needing further cue, Jack took the lead and walked toward the Millennium Biltmore Hotel.
"Welcome to the Millennium Biltmore Hotel. We hope you enjoy your stay with us," the two greeters bowed and extended their arms politely. "Please enter through the main entrance. Our hotel uses automatic scanning systems to ensure top-level safety for our guests."
Jack gave them a glance, then looked at the ten or so stern-looking black-suited security guards standing just inside the lobby. Without a word, he stepped up to the entrance.
A scanner popped out beside the door and projected a pale blue beam of light that swept up and down Jack's body under the watchful eyes of the staff and guards.
Jack's face had been modified using an Arasaka facial-morph chip. But even under the hotel's advanced scan system, there were no anomalies. Two seconds later, the scanner flashed green.
"The weapons on your person fall within the allowed self-defense limits of the Millennium Biltmore Hotel," a greeter said with a bow. "Welcome to the Millennium Biltmore Hotel."
"Mm," Jack grunted, nodding slightly before striding into the hotel under the relaxed gaze of the guards. His expression was unreadable behind his sunglasses, but his voice came loud and clear through the comms:
"Damn, gotta hand it to Arasaka—perfect anti-Militech gear. Their scanners didn't pick up a thing. I was already planning how to explain myself if they flagged my face."
"Wouldn't be Arasaka if they couldn't one-up Militech," Karl replied.
After Jack, both Oliver and Karl passed the scan with ease. But when it was V's turn, the scanner paused slightly—its sensors focusing on the katana at his waist.
"This weapon exceeds the limits set by hotel policy. Please deposit it at the front desk. It will be safely returned upon your departure."
"Handguns are fine but not katanas?" V muttered through the channel, but outwardly, he stayed in character as a stoic bodyguard. Without complaint, he handed over his beloved sword.
Impressed by his cooperation, the guard nodded slightly in thanks. He had expected a bodyguard with such a cold demeanor to be more difficult.
After receiving the blade, the guard's cybernetic eye scanned its structure.
A KENDACHI thermal katana. One of the top-tier swords on the market. If even a bodyguard was carrying this level of equipment, then their employer was no ordinary guest.
Once V handed over his sword, they all stepped into the hotel lobby. As they approached the front desk, a staff member—who had already registered their facial data in advance—recognized them. She bowed toward the group, particularly to Karl.
"Mr. Gaius, welcome to the Millennium Biltmore Hotel."
On the receptionist's screen, the young man known as Gaius was listed as a member of a prestigious noble family from Rome, Italy.
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