Chương 112: Evicted

The planned one-hour nap turned into four. Even the alarm at max volume had not been enough to pull Meno out of sleep. Heavy thumping on his door finally did it, followed by a man shouting. Meno grabbed his phone, squinted through the fog in his head, and saw the time. Saturday. 10: 03 a. m. He sat up too fast, regretted it, then forced himself upright as the pounding came again.

"Open up! Final warning!" Meno stumbled to the door in the same clothes he had collapsed in, his mouth tasting sour due to the energy drinks. He opened it halfway and found Steve, his landlord, standing outside angry with his stomach-length beard.

"Leave this instant," Steve said.

"This is your final warning before the police show up."

"Yeah, calm down. I'll pay you now." Steve stared at him suspiciously, and Meno stared back, still half in a coma. After a few seconds, Steve pulled out his phone and opened his banking app. He entered the missed four-hundred-credit rent payment, then added a hundred for being late. Meno checked the total, opened his own banking app, and tapped his phone against Steve's. Payment confirmed.

"Here," Meno said.

"Done. We good?"

"No." Steve put his phone away.

"I still want you out immediately. Your contract is terminated. Paying what you owe does not entitle you to stay."

"I just paid."

"You are still being evicted." Meno rubbed his face.

"Now? What about my stuff?"

"Give me another two hundred and an address. I will have everything shipped." Meno looked past him at the narrow hallway.

"Is this legal?" Steve's eyes narrowed.

"Do you want to find out? I already filed. I can call the police right now, and we can sort it that way." Meno could probably fight it. He had money now. A lawyer, an overpayment, or enough paperwork to bury Steve's morning would make the whole nuisance disappear, but the apartment was more trouble than it deserved, and Meno had no desire to give him more hard-earned money than necessary. The place had been a shoebox. Steve had never fixed anything properly. Four hundred per month had already been pushing it.

"Fine," Meno said.

"But if any of my things don't show up at my sister's, or the capsule gets damaged because someone handled it wrong, I am suing you. Be certain." Steve snorted.

"And I am very rich now," Meno added.

"Stop acting delusional. The moving company will handle it. Nothing to do with me." Meno opened his banking app again and turned the screen toward him. The balance showed a little over 2. 6 million credits. Steve's face changed as the color drained out from under his beard. He clearly had no real idea who Meno was beyond a late tenant with bad sleep and a loud capsule setup.

The man did not follow VR, did not know PrayerBeadGod, and had no clue he had been threatening someone whose current bank account could buy half the building and still afford pizza.

"How?" Steve asked. Meno did not answer. Steve swallowed.

"I guess you can stay if you want."

"No. Since you are throwing me out and want me gone right now, you are responsible for making sure my things arrive properly." Meno held his stare.

"Do you understand?"

"Okay, okay. I do not want legal trouble. I will make sure everything is insured, and if anything goes wrong, you will be compensated." Meno paid him the extra two hundred credits, sent Lysa's address, and handed over his keys. Steve stepped aside. Meno went back into the apartment and moved fast. He logged out of everything on his computer, removed the storage drives, and put them in his travel bag.

Then he wiped the capsule memory, because after the last few days, trusting any device with stored data felt unthinkable. He changed into jeans and a hoodie. The sunglasses came last: a five-credit pair he had bought back in high school because the green lenses made everything look funny. He put them on anyway. They looked stupid, but maybe stupid sunglasses would slow recognition by half a second.

He filled the remaining space in his travel bag with the clothing boxes from JaxxonVale's collection while Steve waited outside the door, mercifully quiet. Meno zipped the bag and texted Chadculator. Sorry, being evicted. Will be back in a few hours. The response came immediately. Chadculator: WTF"Proper reaction," Meno muttered. He slung the bag over one shoulder and turned for one last look.

The apartment had taken him from zero to rank one, which might have sounded sentimental if not for the bad air, cracked wall trim, cheap counter, narrow capsule space, and months of eating whatever cost the least. He waited for some feeling to arrive, but nothing important came. It would not be missed. Meno walked past Steve without another word and went down the stairs. There was only one place with a proper capsule he could use immediately: The Pearl.

Other capsule rental shops existed, but most of them offered the cheapest public models, cleaned just enough to pass inspection and unsafe in every way that mattered. After the XUltra and the Phantom, Meno was not climbing into public trash-tier hardware. Outside, the street looked green through his dumb sunglasses. He texted his sister. Got evicted. Don't worry. Moving temporarily to The Pearl. My things are being shipped to your house. I'll collect them once I get a place. Sorry. Then Brad. Evicted.

Send tomorrow's pickup to The Pearl instead. Brad could survive without details for ten minutes. Meno got on the train toward downtown with his hood up, watching the world turn green through the sunglasses. The joke wore off quickly. Screens became swamp-colored, faces looked slightly undead, and the disguise lasted about five minutes before an older woman in business clothes looked at him twice, then a third time. Meno felt the approach coming before she moved.

"Excuse me," she said carefully.

"Are you that streamer person?" The question drew attention immediately, pulling several passengers away from their phones. Meno did not love that, but the woman was around his mother's age and looked nervous rather than invasive, so he pulled the hood down just enough to be polite. Find this and other great novels on the author's preferred platform. Support original creators!

"How can I help you?"

"If it's not a bother, could you sign an autograph for my son Tony? I see him watching your stream all the time. It would be a great surprise."

"Sure." The woman fumbled a notepad and pen from her bag. Meno took them, signed PrayerBeadGod, then added "Tony, remember no questing allowed" beneath it. She looked strangely at the name, probably only now realizing her son watched someone called that. Meno handed it back.

"Thank you," she said.

"He'll be thrilled."

"No problem." She backed away, and before anyone else could gather courage, Meno turned toward the window and gave the city outside his full fake attention. Residential blocks gave way to taller buildings as the train entered central Vernova, and his reflection in the glass looked tired, green-tinted, and more famous than he felt. He got off without another incident. Downtown moved around him in sharp morning patterns: clean coats, delivery bots in marked lanes, tall buildings flashing ads he did not read.

Meno kept his bag tight on his shoulder and walked toward the center. The Pearl looked exactly as fancy as he remembered, maybe fancier now that he was arriving as an evicted millionaire carrying his life in one bag. He stood in the doorway for a second. The vast atrium gleamed with marble floors, polished wood, hanging greenery, and a chandelier of thin gold rings. A curved reception desk faced neat rows of sofas, while the air carried faint cedar and citrus.

Meno hoped Aurelia was not staying here anymore, because he had no room for that drama. He just wanted to log into Veyrath and play. That was all. He approached the reception desk, where a well-dressed young woman smiled at him with alarming warmth. Her name tag read Elara.

"Hey," Meno said.

"I'd like to get a capsule room. Not sure for how long. At least a week."

"Certainly, Mr. Varsh."

"How do you know my name?" Meno asked, suspicious, because his life had apparently become a reality show. Elara kept smiling.

"It is my job to recognize famous people when they walk in. Sorry for the intrusion. What kind of capsule room did you have in mind?"

"Uhm. Okay." Creepy. Useful, maybe, but still creepy.

"Do you have any with a Soma XApex?" He seriously doubted it. A two-million-credit capsule in a hotel room sounded excessive even for The Pearl, but asking cost nothing, and apparently Meno was now the kind of person who had to ask these things. Elara's expression turned apologetic.

"I'm sorry. Unfortunately, we do not. The best capsule suite we have includes an XPro." That surprised him. The XPro cost five hundred thousand credits and, according to Grandpa, sat close enough to XApex performance that wealthy people mainly paid four times more for bragging rights. It was not the XUltra, but it would crush his old X7.

"I'll take that."

"Certainly. Our XPro Prestige Suite in the tenth-floor gaming hub is five thousand credits per day." Meno felt the number land. Five thousand per day. More than twelve months of his old rent in one night. On one hand, the price made sense. The capsule alone cost more than many apartments. The hotel was luxury, the gaming hub catered to high-end clients, and technical support probably came with people who did not fix problems by hitting a panel.

On the other hand, Meno's brain still counted money in pizza slices, and five thousand credits was an unthinkable pile of pizza. He had to stop being cheap. This was an investment into gameplay. He was about to make five hundred thousand tomorrow from a car ad he did not know how to perform anyway. Elara continued smoothly.

"However, if you allow us to advertise your stay at The Pearl, I'm authorized to offer a VIP rate of twenty-five hundred credits per day."

"So," Meno said, "I save twenty-five hundred credits per day, and you get to tell everyone I stay here?"

"That is correct. We would post it on our socials and website."

"My ads cost at least five hundred thousand," Meno said.

"Do you think your proposal makes sense?" Elara's smile did not break.

"One moment, please. I need to speak with the hotel manager." She left the desk and entered an office behind reception, leaving Meno with his bag on his shoulder, feeling underdressed and overdressed at the same time. A few guests in the atrium glanced his way, then looked away with practiced restraint. He preferred that to train autograph energy. A moment later, Elara returned with a middle-aged man in a sleek combed-back style and a suit so clean it looked edited. He wore the same polished smile.

"Mr. Varsh," the man said, "my name is Jacob Kurst. Please accept my apologies." Meno nodded once.

"The offer presented to you was based on our standard influencer arrangement and clearly failed to reflect your current market value." Jacob folded his hands.

"The Pearl can offer complimentary use of an XPro Prestige Suite, including meals and technical support, for the duration of your stay." Meno kept his face still.

"In return," Jacob continued, "we request permission to display your public channel name on our guest roster and rebroadcast your stream through The Pearl gaming hub's guest channel."

"You're saying I can stay for free if I agree to your marketing thing?"

"That is correct, sir."

"Just a sec. I need to talk to my manager." For once, saying "my manager" did not feel fake. Brad picked up sounding like he was breathing through motion.

"Meno! My man, is there a problem? I am currently doing my ten thousand daily steps."

"I'm at The Pearl. They're offering a free XPro suite if I let them use me for marketing and rebroadcast my stream. It would cost five thousand per day otherwise."

"Hand the phone to the manager." Jacob accepted the phone with both hands and stepped aside. Business talk began immediately: contract terms, likeness limits, guest roster placement, no implied endorsement beyond stay confirmation, rebroadcast boundaries, channel delay, meals, technical support, payment-in-kind valuation. Meno tuned out after the first twenty seconds and closed his eyes. He needed sleep. Five minutes later, Jacob returned the phone. Brad's voice came back.

"Okay, you can sign it. I told him not to sneak anything in there, or we sue them. I am saving this call just in case."

"What were they going to sneak?"

"Doesn't matter because now they won't. My personal trainer is looking at me angry. Gotta go. Bye." Brad hung up, and Meno lowered the phone. Jacob handed him the contract. Meno skimmed just enough to find his name, Meno Varsh, Streamline: Meno, Alias: PrayerBeadGod, XPro Prestige Suite, complimentary stay, rebroadcast rights, and no exclusive sponsor language before signing. Brad had sounded confident, and Meno was too tired to pretend he could out-lawyer a hotel manager.

He was going to stay for free, which felt good and made no sense. Now that he had money to pay for things, people wanted to give them to him for free so they could say he was there. His father used to say the more money people had, the less they needed to spend. Meno had thought that was bitter old-man talk. Turns out Dad had been right. Elara led him to the elevator. Inside, surrounded by mirrored walls and soft lighting, Meno remembered the obvious question.

"Is Honeygrave still staying here?"

"Yes," Elara said.

"He used to be our top guest in the gaming hub." She smiled slightly.

"Until now."

"Uhm." Meno looked at the floor numbers.

"What about Aurelia Sorell, if I may ask?"

"I'm sorry," Elara said.

"I cannot divulge information about non-public guests at the hotel." Meno nodded. That made sense. Annoying sense, but sense. The elevator opened on the tenth floor. Meno had been here once before, and the floor still looked like someone had blended a luxury restaurant, greenhouse, and gaming lounge. Tall greenery divided massive stream screens from quiet seating areas and tables. A polished bar ran along one wall, while side corridors led toward private VR capsule rooms.

Several people looked over as he entered, but Elara guided him smoothly past them.

"The XPro Prestige Suite is located in the corner of the right-side corridor overlooking the city," she said.

"That separates it from elevator traffic and the public lounge while giving it our best view, strongest soundproofing, and most private access."

"Great." They entered a suite that opened into one large space divided by sleek glass walls, keeping the living area, two bedrooms, capsule area, and bathroom visually connected while preserving privacy where needed. Floor-to-ceiling windows along the front and right side overlooked Vernova, the city rising in bright layers below.

The living area had a long sofa and a low table, while the capsule room featured a large white XPro with gold accents, a high-end computer station, wall screens thin enough to look impossible, and carefully placed greenery softening the clean lines. The bathroom combined stone, glass, and a rainfall shower. Meno stopped there.

"Looks pretty, but why is the bathroom wall see-through?" Elara walked to the right side of the bathroom door and placed her palm on a small indent. The glass turned opaque.

"You can enable privacy mode on all walls, including the windows, by pressing the indent near each section," she said, "or use the main control beside the door if you wish to dim the entire room."

"That's cool." He looked again.

"Also a bit weird."

"Some of our guests prefer the room to feel more spacious." Meno could understand that in theory. In practice, the suite was already at least five times the size of his old apartment, so he was not going to complain about space. He also definitely was not keeping the bathroom glass transparent. The fact he could see the capsule room from the main area was pretty cool, though, because the XPro looked like a proper legendary item compared to his X7.

"If you need anything," Elara said, "speak to any staff member by calling one on the room phone or visiting the communal bar." She guided him to the door frame.

"Please place your hand here." Meno pressed his palm to the reader, and a blue line scanned it. Guest Access Registered Elara smiled.

"We hope you have a wonderful stay Mr. Varsh. Do not hesitate to ask if you need anything." Then she left him alone in the luxury glass house. Meno stood still for a few seconds before going into one of the bedrooms to change into sweatpants for capsule use and take off his socks. The king-sized bed looked dangerous. If he sat on it for too long, he might lose another four hours. No bed. Capsule first. He entered the capsule room.

The XPro was about fifty percent larger than his X7, with more cables running into the wall, better shell plating, cleaner interface panels. The computer station was excellent. The wall screens were clear. There was even a proper chair. Perfect. Meno set up his stream accounts, checked the rebroadcast permissions, adjusted the input layout, and made sure nothing from his old setup had stayed logged in on the evicted machine. Then he climbed into the XPro.

The soft padding caught his body cleanly: no old pressure points, no cheap latch rattle. The interface synced faster than his X7 ever had, and the first diagnostic pass showed response numbers low enough to make him grin despite exhaustion. Not XUltra. Not Phantom stack. But close enough to feel like a real upgrade. With his real-life nonsense sorted for the next few hours, it was time to log back in.

Chadculator and the guild were most likely getting farmed by champions right now, and he was probably not very happy with Meno. Meno closed the lid and let the XPro pull him back toward Veyrath.