—Sun—
Shining mercilessly through the wide windows of the golden suite.
Luna opened her eyes with an animalistic groan.
Her head throbbed.
Her mouth felt like it had been used as a mite nest.
And the entire world spun to an electronic beat she didn't remember requesting.
She sat up in bed… slowly… like a natural disaster victim.
"Ivy…" Her voice came out weaker than a politician's promise.
The assistant materialized as a hologram—a woman in a white blazer with a corporate smile that, at that moment, seemed far too sarcastic.
"Good morning, Miss Luna. Would you like water, antacids, an oxygen mask, or should I pretend last night never happened?"
Luna groaned, flopping back onto the pillows.
"Kill me first."
"That's not in my protocol," Ivy replied with cruel efficiency.
"...What happened last night?"
Ivy brightened. Literally.
"You had a memorable evening. And for your safety and entertainment, I've compiled a highlight reel of the most... instructive moments."
Luna cracked one eye open.
"You made a montage of my social shame?"
"With dramatic soundtrack and smooth cuts, yes."
Before Luna could flee or jump off the balcony, the AI's hologram flickered and began playing:
"Night with the Queen of Chaos" – Compact Edition by Ivy™
[00:02]
Luna grinning dangerously at the bartender.
"Give me the strongest thing you've got. Add glitter if available."
[00:14]
Her shoving a glass into Victória's hands.
"Drink. This is liquid diplomacy."
[00:31]
All four dancing in a circle, laughing, screaming, whipping their hair like they'd summoned the spirit of a cosmic rave.
[00:47]
Matthew the prince appearing on the dance floor. Luna yanking his collar with a laugh.
"Found my new favorite toy!"
[01:05]
Luna attempting to teach Matthew how to grind to electronic music.
Matthew visibly desperate to maintain ten inches of social distance and royal dignity.
[01:17]
Luna on his lap in the lounge, pointing at Amara and cooing:
"This one's MINE. Tested. Perfect as a diplomatic pillow."
[01:49]
Matthew staring into the security camera like a hostage.
Luna hugging him.
Then attempting to kiss his cheek.
He dodges. She hits his chin.
[02:11]
Luna cackling like a drunk witch while Matthew holds a glass and mutters:
"This wasn't in the manual."
The video paused.
Luna stared at the ceiling, pale.
"I. Hate. Myself."
Ivy tilted her head, gentle.
"On the social scale, you oscillated between charismatic star and emotional hurricane. Matthew Solarius met your alcoholic alter ego… and survived."
Luna grabbed a pillow and screamed into it.
"AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAA—"
"Ah, there's more." Ivy shifted tones like a news anchor.
"The footage was only captured by the club's private cameras. But since the Lancaster, Hoshinami, and Edelweiss heirs were with you… it's already circulating discreetly among elite circles. Your name is in five global investor groups and two aristocratic gossip magazines."
Luna lifted her face from the pillow, disheveled and horrified.
"AM I AN INTERNATIONAL MEME???"
"Not yet," Ivy replied smoothly.
"But you've become… discourse. And the top search term on the Phoenix Royal Forum in the last six hours is:
'Who's the woman in the prince's lap?'"
Silence.
A cough.
A muffled scream.
Luna crawled to the foot of the bed and stared at the wall.
"He's gonna hate me…"
"Actually," Ivy said with a subtle smile,
"according to emotional data from my analysis, he's currently 43% frustrated, 21% confused, 18% embarrassed… and 18% charmed."
Luna's eyes widened.
"What?!"
"Congratulations," Ivy said.
"You broke a prince's emotional programming. And you're still wearing heels."
Luna collapsed back onto the bed.
"I need a new identity. A new face. A new planet."
"Or…" Ivy said, as the Tycoon System emitted a soft chime,
"you could use this to your advantage."
After the crisis, hot water cascaded over Luna's skin like an indulgent whisper.
She sank shoulder-deep into the black marble tub with gold veins, while lavender, chamomile, and essential oils filled the air.
"Ugh…" She groaned, sinking deeper.
"Shame doesn't wash off, not even with gold-infused bubbles."
"Yet you're on track for a magazine cover," Ivy commented, projecting herself onto a nearby pedestal.
"Magazine cover or target of intercontinental diplomatic memes?"
Luna murmured, raising a detox juice like a funeral toast.
"Both. But we can steer the narrative."
Post-bath, Luna dressed in a semi-open white silk blouse, navy wide-leg trousers, and low velvet heels with silver detailing.
Her damp hair fell in loose waves, as if she'd just stepped out of a million-dollar perfume ad "by accident."
She descended to a dining room with a balcony overlooking the estate's gardens and the central fountain with dancing nymph statues.
The lunch spread was, of course, excessive.
Artisanal rustic breads.
Smoked salmon rolls with Icelandic herbs.
Salad with sunrise-harvested greens.
And tea reserved for Himalayan royalty.
Luna stared.
"I just wanted an omelet. But okay."
She ate slowly, trying to forget she'd danced like a maniac on a prince's lap while the world now wondered who she was.
Then Ivy floated closer, tone serious.
"We need to control your narrative before others do."
Luna chewed and mumbled.
"If anyone asks, say I'm a cosmic entity sent to reeducate playboy princes through dance."
Ivy ignored this.
"Rumors are spreading. You've discreetly appeared on new billionaire lists linked to the Malroth empire. Our forged identity documents are holding, but it's time to... release a controlled version of the truth."
Luna raised a brow.
"What kind of truth...?"
Ivy blinked. A new hologram appeared:
"Interview Request – Imperial News Blog: Nobles & New Blood"
"A feature with the most respected outlet in modern aristocracy. Light, discreet, elegant. We give them exclusive access to your official backstory… carefully crafted, of course."
Luna crossed her arms, skeptical.
"And what's this 'official backstory'?"
Ivy scrolled data midair:
Name: Luna Malroth
Only daughter of Augustus Malroth, weapons/mining magnate with secret operations on private Valensar islands.
Augustus passed quietly a year ago.
Raised in absolute secrecy for security against industrial espionage/attacks until inheriting the empire at adulthood.
Luna blinked.
"Valensar… that exists?"
"It does now. The Tycoon System bought an island and renamed it."
"You're joking."
"Never. We've also created employee profiles, backdated invoices, and fake investigations explaining your childhood secrecy. You're the myth no one saw growing up."
Luna leaned back, gazing at the garden.
A long silence… until she said:
"Fine. Let's do it. But…"
She smirked at Ivy.
"I want my 'father' to have a shady past. Ex-military. Rumored black projects involving AI and arcane artifacts."
Ivy logged this like it was completely plausible.
"I can plant that as corridor whispers in an old military report."
"And… I want him to have left me a letter. Symbolic will stuff. Like: 'The world is cruel, but my daughter will be the exception.' You know?"
"Already drafting. Shall I include a paternal-voiced hologram?"
Luna raised her teacup. Toasted alone.
"Love this system."
Minutes later, Ivy projected the blog's draft headline:
> Luna Malroth: The Heiress of Silence
> The young billionaire who charmed nobles in a secret lounge now reveals her story for the first time.
> Raised off-grid for security on the private Valensar islands, Luna inherited Augustus Malroth's fortune—the eccentric recluse behind weapons engineering and mining empires.
> At just 23, she emerges as the new jewel among names shaping the future.
> "I never wanted fame," she says. "Just to live well, drink pretty things… and maybe teach princes to dance."
Luna burst out laughing.
"Perfect. Publish it. Send the journalist flowers."
Ivy smiled.
"That's your quote, Miss. The interview's tomorrow. Live."
Luna froze.
"...Live? I want to die."
"Or become an icon. Your choice."
The next day...
The camera floated through the glass-and-crystal penthouse ballroom as sunset gilded the sky—as if even the weather wanted to be aesthetic.
At center stage, seated on a modern pearl-gray velvet throne, was Luna.
She wore an asymmetrical white pantsuit with amethyst jewelry, her blonde hair in perfect waves.
Across from her, legendary journalist Meliora smiled like she'd found a billionaire unicorn.
"Miss Malroth, first: thank you. The world wants to know… who is Luna Malroth?"
Luna breathed deep, kept her tone soft.
"Just a woman who inherited the impossible… and now wants to do the improbable."
The interview covered her reclusive childhood on Valensar, her media absence, her connections to the Lancaster/Edelweiss/Hoshinami heirs ("social coincidences")… and of course, her viral appearance with Phoenix's prince.
Luna smiled wryly.
"He tripped over me. Literally. The rest was diplomatic dancing."
The blog's traffic soared.
"Luna Malroth" trended globally.
Then, near the end, Meliora asked:
"With such power, influence, and wealth… what will you do now?"
The room hushed.
Even the camera drones hovered slower.
Luna looked into the lens. Her silver-gray eyes steady.
"My father taught me that power without compassion is a bomb without purpose. On his deathbed, he left me one request…"
A pause.
A swallow—part performance, part real emotion.
"To use our fortune to ease pain where the world looks away.
So today, I announce the Malroth Global Foundation."
Meliora's eyes widened.
"A foundation? For what?"
Luna straightened.
"Education. Housing. Food. Healthcare. For orphans, refugees, the invisible. Wherever there's emptiness… we'll fill it."
The journalist stammered, genuinely moved.
"That's… remarkable."
"This isn't about me," Luna said softly.
"It's about the world he left me… and the one I want to leave."
[TYCOON SYSTEM – NOTIFICATION]
Congratulations, User Luna Malroth.
Your decision unlocks:
1. 100x Financial Return
For every verified philanthropic expenditure, the system will multiply the amount by 100x and deposit it into the "Golden Philanthropy" account.
(Restricted to social causes/foundation expansion. Personal use/fraud triggers automatic penalties.)
2. 100 AI Humanoid Units (UGPs)
Philanthropic Management Units with:
- Real-time global logistics
- Corruption/sabotage detection
- Crisis zone diagnostics
- Cross-cultural diplomacy (200+ languages)
- 100% loyalty to Mission/User Luna Malroth
NOTE: Requires annual nano-tech maintenance (1% of profits).
Inviolable Ethics:
- No violence
- No corporate/political espionage
---
Luna read the notification as the interview ended.
Meliora smiled, awed.
"With this, Miss Malroth… you're not just a mysterious billionaire.
You're… the kind of story that becomes legend."
Luna simply smiled.
And within her, the Tycoon System pulsed like a proud digital heartbeat.