The truck glided to a stop in front of an elegant hotel, its sleek, modern facade bathed in warm golden light.
Floor-to-ceiling glass windows revealed a grand interior, where guests lounged in quiet luxury.
At the entrance, uniformed bellhops stood at attention, their polished demeanor unwavering.
Dionysus stepped out, his new tailored shirt and slacks accentuating the effortless regality in his posture.
He took a brief glance at the towering structure and nodded in faint approval.
"This will do."
[You have assessed the hotel in precisely three seconds. Efficient, if not entirely thorough.]
"I trust my instincts." He strode forward without hesitation.
The lobby was an extravagant display of wealth, marble floors gleamed beneath cascading crystal chandeliers, plush chairs and sofas were arranged in intimate clusters, and guests murmured over cocktails.
The scent of jasmine lingered in the air, delicate yet intoxicating.
At the front desk, a young woman with neatly pinned dark hair glanced up, and visibly faltered.
"Welcome to The Elysian," she greeted, her professional tone wavering under the weight of his presence. "How can I assist you?"
"I need a room," Dionysus said simply.
The receptionist nodded quickly, fingers flying over the keyboard. "Of course, sir. We have several suites available. Would you prefer a city view or, "
"Choose the best," he interrupted, leaning slightly against the counter.
His golden eyes caught the soft glow of the chandeliers, and for a fleeting moment, the receptionist seemed to forget how words worked.
"Yes, absolutely," she blurted, regaining her composure with a deep breath. "The Imperial Suite is available. It's on the top floor, featuring panoramic views, a private terrace, a personal butler, and, "
"That will suffice." Dionysus slid his credit card across the counter, the action smooth, final.
As the transaction processed, he idly studied the grand artwork lining the walls, gold-framed paintings of mythological scenes, their brushstrokes reminiscent of celestial visions.
[Your presence has destabilized the mortal. She is currently experiencing a physiological phenomenon known as 'flustered attraction.' Would you like to address it?]
Dionysus smirked. "It's not my fault mortals have no restraint."
The system's response was immediate.
[Correction: It is entirely your fault.]
Moments later, the receptionist handed him the key with a shy, lingering smile. "Enjoy your stay, sir."
He accepted it with a slight nod, then turned toward the elevators, the weight of mortal gazes trailing behind him.
The elevator doors slid open with a soft chime, revealing a dimly lit hallway lined with sleek, golden room numbers. The air was hushed, thick with the kind of luxury that ensured silence was part of the price.
Dionysus stepped out, his polished shoes clicking softly against the wooden floor.
[You have arrived at the Imperial Suite level. Your accommodations await.]
He barely acknowledged the system's announcement, his gaze sweeping over the opulent corridor.
"So…"
Dionysus cut off the voice before it could fully form its thought. "You still haven't answered my question."
A pause. Then, a wry chuckle. "Which one?"
Dionysus exhaled, scanning the door numbers as he walked. "Your knowledge. How do you know so much about this world?"
[Ah,] the system mused, its tone carrying the weight of something both calculated and amused. [Lord Dionysus, I am a system. I was designed to ensure your experience runs smoothly. Knowing what I know is simply part of the function.]
Dionysus arched a brow but didn't press further. His room, 1201, came into view. But so did an… unexpected scene.
A man and a woman were pressed against the door to 1203, their hands fumbling with the keycard as they kissed feverishly.
Their moans were shameless, their movements desperate, clothes disheveled in the reckless rush of lust. They were utterly oblivious to his presence.
Dionysus came to an abrupt stop, his expression twisting in something between distaste and exasperation.
"Is this how mortals conduct themselves in public now?"
[Statistically, displays of public affection have increased by 37% in metropolitan areas.]
Dionysus ignored the useless data.
The system snickered. "I thought you'd appreciate the enthusiasm, given your nature."
"I do not enjoy watching it," Dionysus replied coolly.
With a flick of his fingers, the locked door to 1203 swung open on its own. The couple, caught off guard, tumbled inside with a mixture of startled gasps and laughter. The door clicked shut behind them.
[Efficient. Would you like me to log this as a 'hallway-clearing technique' for future use?]
Dionysus ignored the system's mirth, pressing his keycard to his own door.
The Imperial Suite was, at the very least, worthy of his presence. Soft, ambient lighting bathed the room in a golden glow, accentuating its lavish furnishings.
A king-sized bed, draped in sheer white curtains, dominated the space. The bedding was pristine, embroidered with delicate gold filigree, and the pillows looked sinfully plush.
Floor-to-ceiling windows revealed a breathtaking view of the city, the skyline glittering against the dark expanse of the night.
A sleek, modern couch and glass coffee table occupied the sitting area, positioned near a marble fireplace that radiated quiet warmth.
The en suite bathroom was equally extravagant, freestanding tub, rainfall shower, golden fixtures that gleamed under recessed lighting.
Dionysus removed his jacket with a fluid motion, tossing it onto the couch as he surveyed the suite. "This will suffice."
The system's laughter broke through the quiet. "I still can't believe you just used magic to shove a couple into their room. You behave as if you're not a god of pleasure."
Dionysus scowled, loosening his collar. "I don't, "
"Yes, yes. You don't enjoy watching, only participating," the system teased, its voice rich with amusement.
Dionysus shot a glare at nothing, but offered no retort. He walked to the window, gazing out at the city. His own reflection stared back at him, a faint smirk tugging at his lips.
"Mortals are strange creatures," he muttered.
[Yet, don't they fascinate you?]
He turned away from the glass, heading toward the bathroom. "Fascination and tolerance are different things."
The system's presence hummed, light and teasing. [Whatever you say, my lord.]