Chapter 13 – Beneath the Surface

After accepting the mid-tier mission from the system, Reyan didn't let it consume his thoughts—not yet. There was no point in overthinking something that couldn't be solved overnight.

He tossed his phone on the side table and got ready to sleep when the screen buzzed softly.

[Lily Ren: Hey... reached home safe?]

A small smile tugged at his lips.

[Reyan: Yeah. Thanks to the great shopping guide.]

The conversation was light, teasing, warm. They exchanged a few messages—nothing intense, just the kind of subtle closeness that grows stronger without effort. After a while, Lily sent a goodnight message and went offline.

Reyan placed the phone down again and stared at the ceiling.

"…Tomorrow," he murmured. "I'll start tomorrow."

He closed his eyes.

---

The next morning, Reyan woke to soft light peeking through the curtains. After a quick breakfast, he threw on a clean shirt, slung his bag over his shoulder, and headed out for college.

The campus was bustling as usual. Students chatted in clusters, coffee cups in hand, while lectures hummed in the background like static.

Reyan moved through it with practiced ease, settling into class without drawing attention.

But even during lectures, he could feel them—eyes.

From across the room, Damon sat with his usual quiet arrogance. His eyes flicked toward Reyan now and then, observing. Calculating.

Reyan noticed it, of course.

After what happened at the mall—dropping nearly ₲90,000 like loose change—Damon's interest was inevitable.

That kind of money wouldn't shock a true heir.

But for someone like the old Reyan Hart?

That was more than suspicious.

Still, Reyan kept his head down. Calm. Unshaken.

Let him wonder. Let him think. I'll act only when I'm ready.

Because Damon wasn't the real problem.

His father was.

A man at the core of Titan Core's empire—powerful, connected, and ruthless enough to destroy Reyan's family. Reyan knew better than to act impulsively. This wasn't about revenge. This was war. And war needs strategy.

---

After class, Reyan exited through the side building as usual.

Just before reaching the main gates, he spotted her.

The campus belle.

She was standing near the courtyard fountain, back leaning against the wall, headphones in—but not really listening. Her presence was like a pause in the noise around her.

It was subtle, but he noticed it.

She stood there intentionally—away from the crowd. Avoiding attention, perhaps. Or controlling it.

Now that Reyan had the Affection Meter, she looked different.

Clear target.

Sharp potential.

And yet—

> [System Suggestion: If you wish to grow discreetly for now, limit interactions with high-profile individuals. Prolonged attention from the campus belle may lead to unwanted exposure.]

He paused mid-step.

Then casually walked up to her side.

"Hey," he said lightly.

She glanced at him, surprised. "Hi…?"

"Have a good day," he added with a soft smile, then kept walking.

She blinked as he passed.

Just like that, he left her confused—but intrigued.

Let the curiosity grow, he thought.

He didn't need to force anything.

---

Once off campus, Reyan took a cab to the southern district.

The streets were less glamorous here—more local, more real. It took a few turns before the car slowed down in front of a small, freshly-painted building.

Toria Dine.

His restaurant.

He stepped out and observed the scene.

Inside, the glass doors were propped open. Workers moved in and out, hammering, adjusting panels, repainting walls. A few boxes were stacked near the entrance—new signage, LED menus, and freshly sealed table sets.

A man waved from inside.

Harven, the manager and co-founder, stepped out in a plain black tee, wiping sweat from his brow. But when he saw Reyan, his posture shifted slightly—more upright, alert, and respectful.

"Boss," Harven said with a nod. "Glad you came down."

Reyan extended a hand, and Harven shook it firmly.

"I like to see things myself," Reyan replied.

Harven gestured inside. "We're almost there. Renovation wraps tonight. New kitchen equipment is scheduled to arrive first thing in the morning."

He walked beside Reyan, explaining as they moved.

"I've already hired four new staff—two experienced servers and two line cooks. One of the servers has fine-dining experience. They'll be trained and ready before soft launch."

Reyan nodded, pleased. "Good. You've been efficient."

Harven smiled faintly. "It's your money backing this. I wouldn't dare slack off."

They both paused at the center of the dining floor. Workers were still installing ambient light fixtures. The space looked far better than when Reyan had first walked through it.

"I've also hired a local influencer for social media marketing," Harven continued. "He's prepping reels and teaser posts. Should help with reach."

Reyan looked thoughtful. "We'll need long-term strategy. Promotions, combos, loyalty rewards… but we'll get to that."

"I figured you'd have a vision," Harven said. "That's why I've been holding some decisions for your go-ahead."

Reyan nodded. "Good call."

"I'll also arrange delivery bikes and a van," Reyan added. "They'll take 4–5 days, but delivery's non-negotiable."

Harven tilted his head slightly. "Already thinking beyond opening night?"

"Not expansion—accessibility," Reyan replied. "We can't wait for people to find us. We bring the food to them."

Harven chuckled, clearly impressed. "Makes sense. You're sharper than most investors i have seen."

Reyan simply walked over to a chair still wrapped in protective plastic and sat down, eyes scanning the freshly renovated interior.

Everything was coming together.

But ₲100,000 in two weeks?

That wasn't easy money.

That was a challenge.

He folded his arms behind his head, trying to piece together ideas, angles, improvements…

And then—

> [System Notice: Task Assistance Available.]

His eyes flickered.

"…Help?" he whispered.

A subtle glow formed in his mind's eye.

He straightened slightly, sensing something new was about to unfold.

---