Chapter 241 | I Just Hit The Jackpot
Chapter 241: 241 | I Just Hit The Jackpot
Jordan sat on a bench near the locker room, towel draped over his shoulders, staring at his phone like it contained nuclear launch codes.
One hundred and three tickets.
Gold Gacha required one hundred.
He could wait until tonight. Go home. Shower. Change. Pull the gacha in the comfort of his apartment with Chloe and Kumiko watching.
That would be the smart thing to do.
Jordan had never been accused of being smart.
His thumb hovered over the Gacha button. The golden interface pulsed softly, beckoning him with the same energy as a slot machine in Vegas, promising riches while statistically guaranteeing disappointment.
But the System had given him the Tune Up trait. The Alluring Whisper. The Morning Person passive that made him wake up feeling like a functional human being instead of a corpse someone had reanimated with coffee and spite.
Maybe his luck was actually good now.
"Screw it."
Jordan tapped the button.
The screen exploded into light. Golden particles swirled across the display, forming shapes that dissolved and reformed like someone had poured glitter into a tornado. Sound effects played from his phone speaker, a triumphant fanfare that made the guy using the cable machine nearby glance over with mild confusion.
Jordan angled his body to block the screen from view. The last thing he needed was some random gym bro asking why his phone was having a seizure.
The animation continued for what felt like an eternity. Golden rays. Spinning symbols. A dramatic pause that stretched his patience thinner than a freshman’s budget.
Then the result appeared.
GOLD GACHA RESULT
Business Asset: Hada no Yu Onsen
Legendary Item
Jordan read the description once.
Read it again.
Read it a third time because his brain refused to accept what his eyes were telling him.
A fully realized, self-sustaining luxury onsen business. Retroactive integration into all public records, zoning laws, and local history. Mineral springs with unique dermatological restorative properties. Pre-vetted staff of five loyal attendants.
Five loyal attendants.
Jordan scrolled down to the staff roster and felt his soul leave his body.
Ayaka Tachibana. General Manager. J-cup. The embodiment of the Yamato Nadeshiko ideal in public and a playful sadist in private.
Rina Sato. Bookkeeper. D-cup. Cool and logical kuudere with absolute loyalty.
Tomoe Ishikawa. Head of Maintenance. F-cup. Energetic tomboyish genki girl.
Yumi Nakamura. Lead Attendant. C-cup. Shy, sweet-natured dandere.
Kaori Suzuki. Kitchen Manager. H-cup. Warm and nurturing big sister type.
Jordan closed his eyes. Opened them. The description remained unchanged.
The System had just given him a hot springs resort staffed entirely by anime archetypes with bust sizes listed in centimeters.
This was either the greatest gift in human history or an elaborate setup for his complete destruction.
Probably both.
A notification appeared at the bottom of the screen.
Asset has been deployed. Location: 2847 Coastal Highway, Newport Beach. Business is currently operational and awaiting owner inspection.
Jordan’s fingers moved before his conscious mind could stop them. He opened Google Maps and typed in the address.
Twenty-five minutes away.
The blue line traced a path from Iron Coast gym through surface streets and onto the highway, ending at a pin labeled Hada no Yu Onsen with a 4.9 star rating and two hundred and seventeen reviews.
Two hundred and seventeen reviews.
For a business that had existed for approximately thirty seconds.
Jordan clicked on the reviews. The most recent one, posted four hours ago, read: Best hot springs experience in Southern California. The staff is incredibly attentive and the water left my skin feeling amazing. Will definitely return.
The System had not only created a business. It had created a business with history. With reviews. With a reputation that stretched back far enough to feel real.
Jordan thought about going home first. Showering. Changing into something that wasn’t soaked through with sweat from getting his ass kicked by Maya Santos.
Then he thought about what was waiting for him at that address.
"Shower can wait."
He grabbed his gym bag and headed for the exit.
The drive took twenty-three minutes with traffic. Jordan spent most of it cycling between excitement and terror, occasionally glancing at his phone to confirm the location still existed and hadn’t vanished like a fever dream.
The highway curved along the coastline, offering glimpses of the Pacific between buildings and palm trees. Newport Beach unfolded around him in shades of white and blue, all expensive architecture and carefully maintained landscaping.
His Honda Civic felt increasingly out of place as the property values climbed.
The GPS announced his arrival just as Jordan spotted the sign.
Hada no Yu Onsen.
The characters were written in elegant brushwork on a wooden placard, positioned beside a stone pathway that led toward a building Jordan could only describe as aggressively Japanese. Traditional architecture rose from the manicured grounds, all dark timber and curved rooflines and sliding paper screens. A bamboo water feature trickled somewhere out of sight, the sound carrying on the salt-tinged breeze from the nearby ocean.
Jordan parked in a lot that held a Mercedes, two BMWs, and something Italian that probably cost more than his parents’ house.
His white Civic looked like a lost child at a debutante ball.
He grabbed his gym bag and walked toward the entrance, acutely aware that he smelled like sweat and poor decisions. The path was lined with carefully raked gravel and stone lanterns. Each step felt like walking deeper into another world, one where Jordan McKnight, former Tier 4 Simp and current business economics major, somehow owned a luxury hot springs resort.
The entrance slid open as he approached, motion sensors hidden somewhere in the traditional facade.
Inside, the lobby was everything the exterior had promised. Polished wood floors. Subtle lighting from paper lanterns. The faint scent of cedar and something floral that Jordan couldn’t identify. A reception desk carved from a single piece of dark wood dominated the space, positioned beneath a scroll painting of mountains shrouded in mist.
Behind the desk stood a woman.
Jordan’s brain short-circuited.
She was tall for Japanese, maybe five foot seven, with ink-black hair pulled into an elaborate updo secured by ornate pins. Her face was porcelain perfection, all delicate features and full lips curved into a smile that managed to be serene and knowing at the same time. She wore a traditional kimono in deep purple with silver embroidery, the fabric clinging to curves that the garment absolutely should not have been able to contain.
Her bust strained against the kimono in a way that made Jordan’s mouth go dry.
J-cup. The System had not been exaggerating.
"Welcome back, Master."