The Ultimate Billionaire Check-In System Vol.5

Chapter 201: Who Dares Touch Mr. Caldwell?

Jan Dan exchanged a few quiet words with Mr. Li before Kyle Young guided Patriarch Kong Mingda straight to Ethan Caldwell's table.

The old patriarch looked down at Ethan with the kind of superiority only a dynasty head could muster.

"Young man, you did a very *good* job tonight."

Patriarch Kong was so furious he laughed.

"Very good?"

Ethan shrugged. "I thought it was just average."

He had only donated a billion dollars. In his mind, that wasn't much.

If the Hope Foundation proved effective and transparent, Ethan wouldn't mind giving more in the future.

"You..."

To Patriarch Kong, every word out of Ethan's mouth sounded like deliberate provocation.

Average?

The Kong Family had just been forced to cough up five hundred million—and that seemed *average* to this kid?

How much more did he expect them to bleed before he'd consider it impressive?

Five billion? Fifty?

"Kid, Patriarch Kong is speaking to you and you're still sitting there?!"

"Stand up!"

"Have you no manners? Give your seat to Patriarch Kong!"

Several guests who'd been angling for Kong Family favor jumped in to scold Ethan.

Earlier, with only Kyle around, they'd kept a thin veneer of politeness.

But now the head of the Kong Family had arrived in person. They didn't have to pretend anymore.

No matter how impressive this young man seemed, could he really outshine the Kong Family?

The Kongs were one of San Francisco's elite dynasties.

Aside from the city's true power players, who would dare provoke them?

Some guests weren't just chiding Ethan—they were openly gloating.

Hawthorne Group had donated earlier, hoping for praise from Mr. Li and a little spotlight of their own.

Then Ethan dropped a billion in one stroke and erased them completely.

Compared to a billion, their tens of millions meant nothing.

Their money had gone straight down the drain. Naturally, they resented him.

Who cared about charity the way they did?

Now, watching Patriarch Kong square off against Ethan, they couldn't wait for the show.

They wanted to see this arrogant kid taught a brutal lesson.

"Such poor upbringing. Stand up and listen to Grandfather's teachings!"

Kyle piled on.

"Listen to his teachings?" Ethan stayed seated, still eating calmly. "He's not qualified."

If it had been Mr. Li—the old man who'd devoted his life to charity—Ethan would have stood without hesitation.

Patriarch Kong was a different story.

Not qualified?!

The crowd went dead silent.

Even the head of the prestigious Kong Family wasn't qualified to make you stand and listen?

Had this kid lost his mind?

Guests exchanged stunned glances, staring at Ethan like he'd gone insane.

"Heh. Young man, being impulsive is one thing. Being conceited and disrespectful is another."

Patriarch Kong's voice turned icy.

"If you're not careful, you'll pay dearly."

He'd already decided to put Ethan in his place.

Around them, guests wore amused expressions.

This kid was probably finished.

By tonight's end, he'd be driven out of San Francisco.

"From your accent, you're not local, are you?" Patriarch Kong asked pointedly.

"San Francisco is no small pond. The water runs deep."

"Offend the wrong person and there won't be a place left for you in this city."

Before he could finish, a voice cut in from behind.

"Is that so?"

"Who dares touch Brother Ethan?!"

Every head in the room snapped around.

"Why wouldn't they dare—?!"

Patriarch Kong was already in a foul mood. Now someone was contradicting him to his face.

He started to fume—then saw who had arrived.

The rest of his sentence died in his throat.

The other guests were equally dumbstruck.

"Zachary Yuan actually came?!"

The moment they saw Zachary Yuan, the flattery began.

"Hello, Zachary Yuan!"

"What an honor to see you tonight!"

"Zachary Yuan is as elegant as ever."

Zachary ignored them all and walked straight toward Ethan, as if their meeting were pure coincidence.

"Brother Ethan. I didn't expect to run into you here."

To everyone's shock, Zachary Yuan addressed Ethan with genuine respect.

Brother Ethan?

Zachary Yuan—the chairman of Omnisphere Group, one of San Francisco's top moguls—called this young man his brother?

They had to be hearing things.

The room went still.

Patriarch Kong was speechless.

What just happened?

Zachary Yuan treated this kid as an equal?

Could that even be real?

Even as head of the Kong Family, Patriarch Kong didn't qualify for that kind of treatment.

When he met Zachary Yuan, he had to address him as Zachary Yuan.

But Zachary was treating *this* kid as a peer?

Kyle Young was completely flabbergasted.

He'd looked down on Ethan Caldwell?

Now even Zachary Yuan—someone his grandfather had to treat with extreme deference—was calling him brother?

Impressive.

Truly impressive.

At that moment, those were the only two words Kyle could find.

"Zachary Yuan. Long time no see."

Ethan shook his hand and they began chatting, leaving everyone else standing in the cold.

The others could only wait respectfully aside, not daring to speak.

"Eh, Zachary is here?"

Mr. Li emerged from the house. He'd been handling matters after Patriarch Kong's arrival.

"Zachary and Mr. Caldwell know each other?"

"Of course." Zachary nodded. "Brother Ethan is young, capable, and financially strong. He's the second-largest shareholder of Ferrari Group!"

The room erupted internally.

Not just the guests—even Mr. Li was shocked.

The second-largest shareholder of Ferrari?

So this Mr. Caldwell was the second-largest shareholder of Ferrari Group?

Every guest present was stunned.

The identity was too shocking.

Second-largest shareholder—not some mid-level executive.

That meant a very large piece of Ferrari Group belonged to the young man standing in front of them.

Incredible.

Most of the wealthy people here were worth tens of billions.

To them, Crestview Group was already impressive—just like Hawthorne Group had been earlier.

Ferrari Group, with a market value north of two hundred billion, was on another level entirely.

Once they learned Ethan's identity, they understood why Zachary Yuan treated him as an equal.

The math checked out.

"Hello, Mr. Caldwell."

"Mr. Caldwell is so low-key—unexpectedly the second-largest shareholder of Ferrari Group."

"I didn't recognize greatness earlier. Mr. Caldwell, please don't hold it against us."

In an instant, the magnates who'd looked down on Ethan were greeting him warmly.

Among them, the businessmen who'd mocked him to please Patriarch Kong were trembling, faces pale with fear.

Ethan Caldwell was the second-largest shareholder of Ferrari Group—and a friend of Zachary Yuan?

It was over.

They were done for.

Thud.

Some guests couldn't stand anymore. Their legs gave out and they collapsed into chairs behind them.

The bosses who'd been gloating—hoping to watch Ethan get crushed—let out long sighs of relief.

Fortunately, they hadn't spoken. Otherwise, they'd be the ones scared witless right now.

"Mr. Caldwell, what an achievement at such a young age. I'm truly impressed!"

"Mr. Caldwell is a model for San Francisco's younger generation!"

"Extraordinary looks and incredible strength—remarkable."

Flattery poured in from every direction.

Kyle Young was trembling with fear.

He'd provoked the second-largest shareholder of Ferrari Group?

And he'd thought Ethan was just some nobody?

Compared to Ethan, *he* was the poor one.

Anyone who could acquire that many Ferrari shares had to be staggeringly rich.

His mockery of Ethan's identity now looked laughable.

Ethan, standing on Zachary Yuan's level, surely ranked among San Francisco's top power players.

Crushed in every aspect, Kyle was in utter despair.

Patriarch Kong stared blankly at Ethan, unable to believe it.

You had this identity—why didn't you say so earlier?

If he'd known, he never would have threatened him. Not under any circumstance.

Patriarch Kong complained silently.

As for the fact that he'd never bothered to ask about Ethan's background—he chose to forget that part.

"It seems there was some disagreement with Mr. Caldwell earlier?" Zachary asked Patriarch Kong with a smile.

That smile sent a chill down Patriarch Kong's spine.

Never mind Ethan's identity as Ferrari's second-largest shareholder.

Zachary Yuan alone could dismantle the Kong Family without breaking a sweat.

The Kongs were prestigious in San Francisco. Compared to Zachary Yuan, they were nothing.

"Disagreement? What disagreement?!" Patriarch Kong denied instantly.

"How could our Kong Family have any issue with Mr. Caldwell?"

"It was just a slight misunderstanding. Mr. Caldwell, being such an important person, wouldn't bother with a small family like ours."

He spoke with deliberate humility, elevating Ethan while lowering the Kong name.

"That's good."

Zachary nodded, scanned the room, and spoke with quiet authority.

"Mr. Caldwell is my friend. If anyone has a problem with him, feel free to come to me."

He was using the moment to strengthen his bond with Ethan.

Hearing that, nobody dared breathe wrong.

Patriarch Kong's face went pale.

"You're too kind, Zachary."

Ethan responded. Zachary had been gracious; Ethan naturally returned the courtesy.

"Mr. Caldwell, I misspoke earlier. I hope you won't hold it against me."

Patriarch Kong brought Kyle forward and took the initiative to apologize.

"Hurry up and apologize to Mr. Caldwell."

Kyle bowed quickly, stammering. "S-sorry... Mr... Mr. Caldwell."

He was clearly terrified.

"Once we get home, I'll educate him properly. He won't cause trouble again!" Patriarch Kong promised.

Mr. Li spoke up suddenly.

"Brother Ethan, would you be interested in a position in our charity organization?"

Mr. Li, standing on Zachary's level, addressed Ethan as Brother Ethan.

He was inviting him to join the foundation he'd built.

"All right."

Under the warm invitation of Mr. Li and Zachary Yuan, Ethan agreed.

The three of them chatted awhile.

Mr. Li invited Ethan to attend an inauguration ceremony the foundation would host in the near future.

Ethan agreed, and after more conversation, he was the first to leave for the evening.

The next day, as promised, Ethan drove his ten-million-dollar supercar to San Francisco's top supercar club.

Today happened to be the day they were electing a new vice president.

Bay Elite Supercar Club was about to get interesting.

---

Chapter 202: Bay Elite Vice President

Bay Elite Supercar Club was what San Francisco's rich heirs called the city's number-one supercar association.

When Ethan had been teaching Wren Sinclair to drive, several wealthy young men and women had enthusiastically recommended the club.

With nothing else on his schedule, Ethan drove his Pagani Zonda HP Barchetta over.

It wasn't that he wanted to show off a hundred-million-dollar supercar.

His Ferrari was in for service and repairs.

He was going to a supercar club, and he was at home today—unlike last time, when he'd coincidentally taken an Audi and been too lazy to swap cars.

So today, the Pagani it was.

Rumor had it today was also vice-president election day at Bay Elite.

If it wasn't too much trouble, Ethan didn't mind casually grabbing the position.

Bay Elite was formed mainly by second-generation heirs and heiresses.

In San Francisco's wealthy youth circle, it ranked among the top three supercar clubs—famous, competitive, and full of talent.

Plenty of skilled drivers. Even more rich kids with serious family backing.

In front of the club entrance, countless luxury cars were parked in rows, giving the scene an almost ceremonial grandeur.

Because of the election, heirs who rarely showed up had all made appearances today.

"Brother Leo, Brother Leo!"

"Brother Kun, Brother Kun—the vice presidency is yours!"

"Brother Zhen, we're backing you. You have to win!"

Cheers and chants filled the air.

Different young masters from across San Francisco had been eyeing the vice-president seat for a long time.

"Everyone, quiet down."

A man in his late twenties stood with a microphone.

Tyler Chen—the club president and one of San Francisco's top young masters.

Being club president required more than driving skill. You needed a globally renowned supercar to hold the title.

Otherwise, someone would take it from you.

Today, to display his strength, Tyler Chen had driven his Lamborghini Veneno.

The Veneno was one of the most recognizable world-class supercars on the planet—and one of the most expensive.

Tyler's had cost close to ninety million dollars when purchased. Only a handful existed worldwide. Enough to awe anyone.

When Tyler spoke, the crowd quieted fast.

After a few brief remarks, the race for vice president began.

Unlike a formal association, Bay Elite's election was casual.

Whoever could win over the crowd became vice president.

Every member came from a significant background. No underhanded dealings—nobody would submit to being cheated.

Win the crowd. Take the seat.

Before voting, there'd be a short race to build momentum.

The race only counted for part of it.

What mattered most was what you drove—and whether you could convince the heirs you belonged at the top.

Drive a Lamborghini Veneno and the vice presidency was practically yours.

You might even challenge Tyler and become president.

After selection, five candidates remained.

Three came out one by one in supercars priced over ten million each.

When the fourth appeared, the scene erupted.

"Brother Kun's Ferrari LaFerrari!"

"Thirty million dollars—awesome!"

Jared Kun, driving a thirty-million-dollar LaFerrari, instantly became the favorite.

But before Jared could enjoy his moment, another supercar pulled up beside him and stole all the thunder.

A Shelby Ultimate Aero—priced over fifty million—rolled to a stop.

A young man stepped out and waved with triumphant confidence.

"Mighty Brother Zhen!"

"Brother Zhen for the win!"

Cheers broke into a frenzy.

The Shelby Ultimate Aero was probably second only to Tyler's Veneno in the entire club.

These cars weren't priced beyond reason—but they were limited editions. Money alone couldn't get you one.

You needed terrifying connections.

Mason Zhen was over the moon hearing the cheers.

The race began. Shelby Ultimate Aero and LaFerrari shot off.

Space was limited, so the course was short.

The Shelby crossed first. Cheering and jumping followed.

"Mighty Brother Zhen!"

"Brother Zhen's got the vice presidency in the bag!"

Driving skills, supercar, crowd support—unless something unexpected happened, Mason Zhen was the new vice president.

Back at the starting line, Mason climbed out grinning from ear to ear. In his mind, he already held the title.

"Thank you, everyone. Thank you."

He was practically floating.

"Hmph. Don't get cocky, Mason Zhen."

"The vice presidency isn't necessarily yours."

Jared Kun spoke up.

"Why? Not satisfied? Can you match my driving skills?" Mason boasted.

In both skill and car, he was confident.

The seat was his.

"Even if I can't match you, there's absolutely someone in this club who can."

Jared retorted.

His driving was average—not comparable to Mason's.

"Oh? Who would that be?"

Mason asked blandly.

"In this whole club, who besides the president has better skills than me?"

"Whose car is more impressive than my Shelby Ultimate Aero?"

He was certain.

In Bay Elite, Mason's driving ranked among the best.

"Who...?"

Jared thought for a moment, then remembered something his guys had mentioned.

Someone named Ethan Caldwell who'd driven an Audi and beaten supercars.

"Right—Ethan Caldwell!"

Mason furrowed his brow. He'd never heard the name.

"Who does he think he is? How could he compare to me?"

He dismissed Ethan as some unknown small fry.

With his Shelby Ultimate Aero, nobody in the club besides the president could beat him.

He'd put enormous effort into acquiring that car—all for today.

Success was within reach.

"Ethan Caldwell has amazing driving skills. If he shows up, he'll crush you."

Jared pushed back.

He didn't know Ethan personally, but he'd seen a video. The driving had left a deep impression.

"Ha, ha." Mason sneered.

"Stop bragging. This Ethan Caldwell is supposed to be amazing? Let him come race me if he dares."

Mason instinctively assumed Jared was talking big.

Let's not even discuss whether this person existed.

Even if he did, his skills couldn't be extraordinary.

Mason had been in Bay Elite for two years. Why had he never heard of him?

If his Shelby weren't a grade below Tyler's Veneno, he might've challenged the president himself.

If he's capable, let him come race me!

Faced with Mason's challenge, Jared fell silent.

He'd only watched one video. He didn't know Ethan at all. How could he produce him for a race?

Jared stood there awkwardly, dazed.

Mason grew even smugger.

"Heh heh. Can't get Ethan Caldwell to show up?"

He mocked.

"Does this person not exist—or does Ethan simply not have the guts to race me?"

"Ethan Caldwell—what is he, a turtle with its head tucked in?"

Mason raised his middle finger and pressed it down fiercely.

"Ahem. I think everyone should have their thoughts by now."

Tyler Chen stood up.

Time to elect a vice chairman.

Mason turned around, straightened his clothes, and prepared to accept the crowd's cheers.

Then an unexpectedly unique supercar roar cut through the air.

In shocked silence, a shadow—almost ghostly—darted in and stopped in front of Bay Elite Supercar Club.

Seeing that car, the bustling scene went dead quiet. You could hear a pin drop.

Everyone stared in disbelief.

No way.

Had they seen wrong?

Was this the legendary supercar?

Many people, Tyler Chen included, rubbed their eyes fiercely.

Mason Zhen and Jared Kun, closest to the vehicle, were equally stunned.

Especially Mason. His eyes went wide, as if they might pop out.

"This..."

He was struck dumb, stuttering.

"My God—is that the Pagani Zonda HP Barchetta?"

"The globally limited Pagani Zonda HP Barchetta?"

"A supercar worth over a hundred million. First time I've seen one."

After a deathly silence, thunderous chatter exploded across the lot.

The atmosphere hit its peak.

Even San Francisco's elite heirs—accustomed to grand occasions—went wild seeing a hundred-million-dollar Pagani.

They were car enthusiasts. How could they not lose their minds?

The door opened. A striking young man stepped out slowly.

Already handsome, Ethan looked even more charismatic against the backdrop of the Pagani.

At that moment, he owned the scene. His presence skyrocketed.

Rich second-generation. Tall, rich, handsome—none of those labels were enough.

"Wow!"

"Mom, I'm in love!"

"I've decided—I'm marrying him for life!"

"I want to open my eyes and see him first thing every morning."

Wealthy daughters who'd seen every type of handsome guy fell into frenzy.

"Ethan Caldwell?!"

Jared recognized him immediately—he was closer.

"What did you say?!"

"Is he really Ethan Caldwell?!"

Mason's face changed drastically.

"Yes. That's definitely him."

Jared remembered the video from last time. He couldn't have mistaken the face.

"What!"

Cold sweat covered Mason's face. His limbs went numb.

Ethan Caldwell—he was the one Jared had mentioned?

Mason had been proudly flaunting his fifty-million-dollar Shelby, certain he'd be tonight's star.

Now Ethan had arrived in a hundred-million-dollar Pagani and instantly eclipsed him.

Not just Mason—even President Tyler Chen was crushed beneath it.

Compared to the legendary Pagani Zonda HP Barchetta, the Lamborghini Veneno was a grade inferior.

The pricing made that obvious.

Plus, the Pagani was even rarer than the Veneno.

"By the way—didn't someone just express utter disdain?"

"Saying Ethan Caldwell was nothing? If he had guts, let him come compete?"

"Even flipping the bird—calling him a turtle with its head tucked in?"

Jared smiled brilliantly.

"Let me think—who was that person?"

"No, Kun Bro, I was wrong. I was wrong."

Mason trembled, admitting defeat immediately. He even addressed Jared as Kun Bro.

He didn't know Ethan's full identity—but anyone driving a hundred-million-dollar supercar wasn't ordinary.

Mason's fifty-million-dollar car was still far inferior.

He knew his limits.

As for racing—he didn't dare. Even with confidence in his skills, the cars weren't on the same level. Competing would be suicidal.

"I was being crazy. My mouth was foul."

Mason apologized repeatedly.

"I'm nothing. Not even a match for Ethan Bro."

"I'm the turtle. I'm the trash..."

He belittled himself frantically, trying to undo what he'd said.

"Kun Bro, please don't tell Ethan Bro."

He pleaded, utterly terrified.

If it weren't for the crowd, he might've knelt by now.

One word from Ethan Bro and he'd be finished.

"Forget it."

"I won't tell the big bro."

Jared waved his hand, acting like he and Ethan were close—as if Ethan were his personal connection.

In reality, he didn't know Ethan. He couldn't inform anyone even if he wanted to.

With Ethan's arrival, every eye in Bay Elite shifted to him.

Everyone began speculating about his background.

"Could he be from another club here to challenge us?"

"No way. I reckon he's a big shot from the East Coast."

"What—he's clearly the knight in shining armor here to sweep someone off their feet."

Tyler Chen approached Ethan.

"And you are?"

There was a tinge of hostility in his voice.

Ethan's arrival had triggered a subtle sense of crisis.

"Ethan Bro, you're here."

A few rich young men who'd met Ethan before crowded around.

"President, this is Ethan Caldwell—Ethan Bro. The one I mentioned before."

"I invited him to join our club."

---

Chapter 203: This Is My Restaurant

A few rich kids explained the situation to Tyler Chen.

"That's how it is."

Tyler nodded, understanding—though his face stayed expressionless, seemingly calm.

Inside, he was agitated. The thing he'd least wanted to see had happened after all.

He'd guessed several reasons for Ethan's visit. The one he feared most was Ethan joining the club.

The first moment Tyler saw Ethan, he'd felt a deep threat.

In driving skill, Tyler was considered an expert—but not the best in Bay Elite.

In family background, a few members matched him.

Tyler had become president because he'd spent years and countless connections acquiring a Lamborghini Veneno.

With the Veneno, he'd intimidated everyone.

In a supercar club, the car was everything.

Since Tyler got the Veneno, it had been the most badass car in the club. Bar none.

But now Ethan Caldwell drove a Pagani Zonda HP Barchetta worth over a hundred million.

Even Tyler's Veneno was a grade lower.

His presidency was seriously threatened.

Other rich kids and wealthy daughters crowded around, greeting Ethan warmly.

"Brother Ethan, hello."

"Brother Ethan, you're so badass—driving a Pagani Zonda HP Barchetta!"

"Ethan, you're so handsome. Can we exchange iMessage contacts? I'd love to invite you to breakfast!"

Mason Zhen and Jared Kun rushed over too.

"Brother Ethan is truly amazing. From today on, he's my lifelong idol."

"The brilliance of Brother Ethan is like the sun and moon—I can't help but worship."

Mason came up shamelessly, drowning Ethan in flattery.

The previously disdainful Mason was nowhere to be seen.

Watching Ethan receive all this attention, Tyler's face darkened further.

He felt increasingly uneasy.

If this continued, the presidency would very likely become Ethan's.

"Ahem. I think everyone is tired—and it's already noon."

"Let's have lunch, take a break, and continue the vice-president selection this afternoon."

Tyler changed the topic.

He didn't know Ethan's full identity yet and didn't dare act recklessly.

Lunch would be his chance to probe.

If Ethan's background was more powerful, Tyler would admit defeat and surrender the presidency willingly.

But if Ethan's identity was lesser—then don't blame him.

This was a cruel society.

"Okay."

"See you this afternoon."

Club members nodded and dispersed to eat and rest.

They were curious about Ethan, but they knew their standing.

With their status, they weren't qualified to dine with him.

Only Tyler Chen, Mason Zhen, Jared Kun, and two men and one woman remained—the most elite circle in Bay Elite.

"Welcome Brother Ethan to join our top supercar club."

Tyler, in his capacity as president, welcomed Ethan formally.

"It's noon, Brother Ethan. Would you do us the honor of joining us for a meal?"

Tyler smiled.

"No problem."

Ethan nodded. He happened to be hungry.

"Where should we go?" Jared asked.

With their status, they wouldn't pick an ordinary place.

"Let's go to Riverside Pavilion."

After contemplating, Tyler suggested.

"Riverside Pavilion isn't far."

"Sounds good."

"I agree."

Everyone agreed. Ethan had no objections.

They drove straight to Riverside Pavilion.

As top rich kids in San Francisco, they had a private room reserved. Ethan didn't need to intervene.

To showcase his power as president, Tyler ordered the most expensive dishes during the meal.

Since they'd driven, nobody drank alcohol.

While eating, they chatted.

"The food at Riverside Pavilion is indeed great."

Mason remarked.

"Of course—it's one of the top ten restaurants in San Francisco. Ranked near the top even within that ten."

"This place is loved and praised by many big shots."

Others chimed in.

"Brother Ethan, what do you think?"

Mason asked, brown-nosing.

The rest looked toward Ethan. Though Tyler had proposed the restaurant, somehow Ethan had become the center.

The Pagani was too astounding.

"What do I think?"

Ethan raised an eyebrow.

"Excellent. Really excellent."

His own restaurant—of course it was excellent.

"Riverside Pavilion is one of the top luxury restaurants in San Francisco."

Tyler interjected, seeming particularly familiar.

"It's most famous for these special private rooms."

"Especially the No. 1 private room—it opens only twelve times a year. Well-known throughout the city."

"The No. 1 room is only for San Francisco's bigwigs. Once a month. Ordinary billionaires—even those worth ten billion—don't qualify."

"I've had the chance to go in twice, following my father."

Tyler showcased his status.

"Wow, Young Master Tao—that's impressive. Inside twice."

"I've only heard about it. Never set foot in there once."

The young heirs erupted in shock.

Even with their notable status, they hadn't been inside.

"Oh, not really. Just average."

Tyler replied "humbly," having achieved his bragging effect.

"I'll take you in to broaden your horizons someday—if there's a chance."

He boasted further.

"By the way—is everyone done eating?"

"I'm ready to settle the bill."

Tyler continued.

"I'm a platinum member here, with all kinds of special privileges."

Platinum member?!

Tyler was a platinum member of Riverside Pavilion?

They were astonished again.

Incredibly impressive.

Only their parents might qualify as platinum members.

Yet young Tyler Chen already held that status.

Amazing.

Relishing the astonished glances, Tyler felt proud and ecstatic.

Just as he was about to call the waiter—

A calm voice drifted over.

"This is my restaurant. What bill?"

The young men who'd been preparing to leave were instantly stunned in place.

Ethan's words came out of nowhere. Hard to process.

What did Brother Ethan just say?

This restaurant is his—so why pay?

Riverside Pavilion, one of San Francisco's top ten famous restaurants, owned by Brother Ethan?

"Ethan, what did you say? I didn't quite get it."

Tyler swallowed hard, disbelief written across his face.

"I'm the owner of Riverside Pavilion. No need to pay today—it's on the house."

Ethan explained.

Really?!

He really is the owner. Tyler hadn't heard wrong.

Tyler had casually suggested Riverside Pavilion to brag and show off his newly acquired platinum membership.

He'd explained details about the restaurant to the group, preparing for this exact moment.

And now it backfired.

One word from Ethan—and all his groundwork was worthless.

Tyler was at a loss for words.

"That's incredible. Who would've thought Brother Ethan owns Riverside Pavilion?"

"If I owned this place, I'd have been boasting about it forever. But Brother Ethan is so modest—only revealing it now. Impressive."

"Brother Ethan is awesome."

The young men exclaimed in amazement.

Riverside Pavilion—sought after by many prominent San Francisco figures.

And it was Ethan's property.

The only girl present looked at Ethan with admiration in her eyes.

Tyler had calmed down—but he watched Ethan with caution, not daring to act hastily.

Who would've thought Ethan was the mysterious owner behind Riverside Pavilion?

The restaurant wasn't worth billions—maybe a few billion at most.

But running a top-tier restaurant in San Francisco and attracting so many big names?

Only a fool wouldn't believe the owner had a powerful network.

Failing to show off was one thing. Luckily, he hadn't offended Ethan.

Otherwise, he'd regret it deeply.

Unconsciously, Tyler began imagining Ethan's full identity.

With such a network, it had to be extraordinary.

If his guess was right, Riverside Pavilion was likely just one of Ethan's many assets.

"By the way, Mr. Caldwell—where do you live? If you have time, we'd like to visit."

Tyler asked carefully.

He had suspicions, but it wouldn't be polite to ask directly about all Ethan's assets.

Residence was a safer topic.

Where someone lived reflected identity and status.

"You're welcome. I live in Dynasty Palace."

Ethan replied courteously while packing up.

His words hit like a thunderclap.

Dynasty Palace?!

Brother Ethan lived in Dynasty Palace?!

The most luxurious residence in San Francisco!

Even wealthy young men and women from elite families didn't have the right to live there.

Not their parents. Not their grandparents.

That Ethan lived in Dynasty Palace was impressive beyond words.

The young men looked at him with utmost respect.

Ethan's status in their minds rose several levels at once.

"Dynasty Palace?!"

Tyler took a deep breath, deeply shocked.

Living in Dynasty Palace—Ethan's status could compare to San Francisco's top bosses.

Tyler was very grateful he hadn't acted recklessly.

Otherwise, if he angered Ethan, not even his father or grandfather could save him.

That question had served its purpose.

Tyler had verified Ethan's identity and completely admitted defeat.

Ethan was someone he couldn't afford to offend.

President of Bay Elite Supercar Club? He didn't want it. He wasn't worthy.

Identity, car—he couldn't compete with Ethan on any front.

"Take care, Mr. Caldwell."

"Goodbye, Mr. Caldwell."

Riverside Pavilion employees bid farewell as the group left.

By the time they returned to Bay Elite, other members were already waiting.

"Everyone, quiet please."

Tyler stepped forward.

"I have two announcements. First—please welcome Ethan Caldwell, Brother Ethan, to Bay Elite Supercar Club."

Loud applause erupted.

A big name joining their club—naturally, everyone was thrilled.

"Secondly—I've decided to pass the presidency to Mr. Caldwell."

Tyler's next words were shocking.

The scene fell silent.

Only the few who'd had lunch with Ethan showed calm—they'd guessed this outcome.

In the future, if Tyler hadn't stepped down voluntarily, they probably would've forced him to resign.

"From now on, the president of Bay Elite Supercar Club is Mr. Caldwell. Does anyone have objections?"

Tyler asked.

"None!"

"No objections!"

"I support President Ethan!"

Because Ethan's Pagani was too astounding, not a single person objected.

"Brother Ethan, seeing everyone so enthusiastic—don't decline."

Tyler said.

"Brother Ethan, be president please."

"Your driving skills are outstanding too—worthy of the title."

The young men encouraged him.

Ultimately, with their enthusiastic suggestions, Ethan agreed.

Whether to be president or not—Ethan wasn't too concerned.

But if the presidency could enhance his development and value, he naturally wouldn't refuse.

Bay Elite ranked among the top supercar clubs in San Francisco, with considerable strength.

The members' identities were no small matter.

Ethan becoming president brought a series of benefits.

Expanding his network. Organizing events between Ferrari and the club to boost Ferrari's influence in San Francisco.

With Bay Elite's promotional support, Ferrari would become incredibly popular.

More and more affluent heirs would choose Ferrari as their first choice when buying cars.

Ethan became president. Tyler Chen automatically stepped down to vice-president.

The next day, Ethan drove an Audi to a bank in San Francisco.

The hundred billion he'd received previously had been transferred by the system to this bank.

Now he was going to move that money.

Since he didn't know the senior management, he came personally.

---

Chapter 204: Missing a Zero?

Ethan went to DBS Bank—a well-known international commercial bank with more than a hundred branches across the United States.

In San Francisco, DBS maintained its own office building.

Ethan parked and entered.

Previously, when he'd checked in through the Billionaire Check-In System, he'd received a collection of black cards—including powerful Regent Bank black cards and some more ordinary ones.

The DBS black card in Ethan's hand was relatively ordinary.

DBS was far inferior to Regent Bank. Requirements for a black card were lower—just over a hundred million in deposits.

This time, when Ethan completed a mission, the one-billion-dollar funds from the system had been placed in DBS.

Holding the black card, Ethan was warmly welcomed by staff and led to a VIP lounge.

A manager from DBS received him.

"Mr. Caldwell, hello. Is there anything I can assist you with?"

Manager Reed inquired politely.

Before Ethan could speak, the VIP room door burst open.

A potbellied man dressed like a boss walked in abruptly.

"Huh—someone's here?"

The middle-aged executive mumbled when he saw Ethan.

"Mr. Sun, welcome, welcome."

Upon seeing him, Manager Reed—who'd been politely receiving Ethan—immediately stood up.

He walked over with a fawning attitude.

Mr. Sun wasn't an ordinary customer. He was an old client and a major account holder.

A San Francisco tycoon with over two billion deposited at DBS alone.

"I didn't expect you to have a guest. I was a bit rash."

Mr. Sun spoke.

Though he said so, there was no trace of regret in his tone.

As a major customer, Manager Reed handled all his transactions.

Each visit, Mr. Sun went directly to Manager Reed.

This time, as usual, he'd pushed the door open—not expecting someone else inside.

"No problem, no problem."

"Mr. Sun gracing our bank honors us. A short wait won't matter."

Manager Reed said ingratiatingly.

In his subconscious, although Ethan held a black card, being so young, his financial strength was probably average.

Moreover, Manager Reed had never seen him before. He must've just gotten the card—how much money could he have?

Certainly couldn't compare to Mr. Sun.

"No problem. There's an order of arrival—let him handle his business first."

Mr. Sun said generously.

"Besides, this time I'm just handling some small matter. A few billion only."

He swaggered to the sofa, sounding quite "low-key."

A few billion?!

Was that a small matter?

Manager Reed became immediately excited.

If he managed this business well, he might get closer to becoming a branch manager.

Mr. Sun was truly his lucky star.

"In that case, please wait a moment, Mr. Sun. It won't take long."

Manager Reed spoke, then returned to Ethan's side.

"Sir, what would you like to do?"

This time, his attitude toward Ethan was visibly less polite—even slightly impatient.

He only wanted to quickly process Ethan's business and get back to flattering Mr. Sun.

"I'm here to withdraw some money as well."

Ethan replied coldly.

He handed the DBS black card to Manager Reed.

"Withdraw it all. Transfer it to my other account."

Initially, Ethan had planned to handle several businesses at DBS. Now he'd lost interest.

Taking the card, Manager Reed curiously checked the balance.

The next second, seeing the deposit amount on screen, he was dumbfounded.

How many zeros were there?

His voice trembled as he counted.

"Ones, tens, hundreds, thousands, ten thousands..."

"One billion, sir—do you want to withdraw all ten billion?"

He asked nervously.

He never expected Mr. Caldwell's card to hold ten billion.

Manager Reed felt a pang of regret. Had he known, he would've been more courteous.

Mr. Sun, calmly sipping tea, merely raised an eyebrow at the young man's ten-billion deposit.

A tiny surprise. Nothing more.

Compared to him, this young man still fell a little short.

"Ten billion?"

Ethan replied. "You missed a zero."

Manager Reed was completely bewildered.

Missed a zero?

Adding a zero to ten billion meant...

One hundred billion?!

Mr. Caldwell's card had one hundred billion?

How was that possible?

Who had that kind of deposit?

Many tycoons—even with net worth in the hundreds of billions—had most money tied up in companies, shares, real estate.

Liquid cash like this was rare.

Take Mr. Sun. He ran a company worth three to four hundred billion, but his bank deposit was only twenty billion.

But Mr. Caldwell said his card held one hundred billion?

He must be joking.

Manager Reed couldn't quite believe it.

With doubt, he recounted.

Gulp.

After counting, Manager Reed swallowed hard.

One hundred billion!

Did Mr. Caldwell's card really have a hundred billion?

He was completely dumbfounded, staring in disbelief.

"One hundred billion. One hundred billion."

He kept muttering.

Having worked at DBS for over a decade, he'd met big shots and billionaires on several occasions.

But this much money in a single account—a first.

Even those billionaires didn't have as much deposited here as Mr. Caldwell.

And this was just at their bank—a medium-sized one.

What kind of wealth did Mr. Caldwell have in larger institutions?

The more Manager Reed thought, the more shocked he became.

"What?"

"One hundred billion?!"

Mr. Sun, calmly sipping tea, inadvertently heard Manager Reed's words and suddenly stood up in astonishment.

This young guy's card actually held a hundred billion?

Insane.

Nearly enough to buy half his company.

So young—yet a hundred billion in a medium-sized bank.

He was utterly impressed.

Compared to Ethan, he was just a novice.

Mr. Sun stood there a long time before sitting back down.

Knowing how obscenely rich Ethan was, he became extremely careful and restrained—not daring to breathe loudly.

Looking at Ethan, Manager Reed wished he could turn back time.

He'd been blind.

To please Director Sun—who only had two billion deposited—he'd been disrespectful to this big shot.

If only he'd known Mr. Caldwell had a hundred billion here, nothing could've persuaded him to greet Mr. Sun first.

He'd wanted to please Director Sun with a few-billion-dollar deal to boost his performance.

Instead, he'd lose a hundred-billion-dollar client because of it.

Ethan no longer wanted to conduct any business with DBS.

"Mr. Caldwell, do you really want to withdraw all one hundred billion?" Manager Reed asked, voice trembling.

"Yes."

"Transfer all of it to the account I specified."

Ethan nodded.

"Okay, please wait a moment."

His attitude toward Ethan was now as respectful and humble as possible.

A few minutes later, Manager Reed completed the transaction and picked up the card to return it.

"No need. Help me cancel this card."

Ethan shook his head.

"I won't be doing any more business with DBS in the future."

This being his first visit, he'd developed a poor impression.

Hearing those words, Manager Reed froze.

Cancel the black card?

No more business with DBS?

No!

Because of him, such a super-rich client was about to slip away.

The responsibility was too great.

Manager Reed couldn't make the decision alone. He quickly called the branch manager.

"What—a super-rich client with a hundred-billion deposit wants to cancel their account?"

Even the branch manager was shocked.

"Make sure to retain this client. I'll be right there."

Not daring to delay, the manager ran out of his office and rushed to Ethan.

Losing such a significant client would be a major oversight.

This client wanted to cancel and stop cooperating—they must've been extremely dissatisfied.

If headquarters learned about this, it wouldn't just be Manager Reed in trouble. The branch manager would face serious repercussions too.

Three minutes later, the manager arrived at the VIP room.

With Manager Reed's introduction, he spoke politely to Ethan.

"Mr. Caldwell, if you're not going to use our black card for now, you could keep it rather than cancel it."

He tried his very best to retain Ethan.

"No need."

Ethan insisted.

In the end, the manager had no choice but to cancel the card and personally escort Ethan outside, watching him drive away.

After Ethan left, the manager retrieved the VIP room surveillance footage.

"You idiot. You blind fool," he shouted furiously at Manager Reed after learning the full context.

There was no way to suppress this. It would likely reach headquarters very soon.

By tomorrow, headquarters would question him.

If he didn't have a good explanation, Manager Reed wasn't getting off the hook either.

Having worked at the bank over ten years, the manager knew quite a bit of dirt on Manager Reed.

Before, as colleagues, he'd turned a blind eye.

Now, if he didn't deal with Manager Reed severely, it just wouldn't be right.

The hundred billion was now transferred to Regent Bank.

Ethan finished the banking business he'd intended to handle there.

In the afternoon, on his way across town, Ethan stopped by Aurora Films.

As largest shareholder and secret owner, he naturally needed to stay informed.

During his visit, he unexpectedly learned some news.

Recently, a significant film Aurora was producing had hit an unexpected hurdle.

An actor crucial to the production had been in a car accident—broken leg, hospital surgery.

Impossible to film that afternoon.

And the crew couldn't halt production because of one actor.

Waiting could take months. That would cost too much.

The director was distressed about where to find a suitable replacement.

"What role is it?" Ethan asked.

"Playing a super-rich individual—the kind worth several billion," the director replied.

Playing a billionaire wasn't something any regular actor could pull off.

It required a special aura and commanding presence.

The director had taken considerable time selecting the right actor for this role.

But now, with the actor hospitalized and time pressing, where could he find someone suitable so quickly?

---

Chapter 205: Just Tone It Down

Time was too short. Finding a suitable actor was genuinely hard.

For this movie, they'd prepared for a long time.

It wasn't like other productions where you could casually hire a handsome popular star.

Every actor had to be carefully selected.

"How long would the scenes take?" Ethan asked casually.

He had nothing else to do. If filming was relatively short, he didn't mind making a cameo as a friendly gesture.

After all, it was his own company's movie. If it made a big profit, he'd benefit most.

But if it was a lead role requiring months of shooting—that wouldn't work.

"Not long—at most one or two days," the director replied seriously.

"One or two days?"

Ethan raised an eyebrow.

"How about I do it?"

"Huh—Mr. Caldwell wants to take the role?"

The director was overjoyed.

The moment Ethan appeared, the director had felt a flash of recognition.

Whether appearance or temperament, Mr. Caldwell was the perfect fit.

Even more suitable than the previous actor to play a billionaire.

The role was practically tailor-made.

After all, Mr. Caldwell was a real super-rich man.

But knowing Ethan's identity—as grand chairman of Aurora Films—how could he act in it?

The director didn't dare invite him directly.

Now Ethan brought it up himself. The director was extremely excited.

"If Mr. Caldwell can make a cameo, our movie will definitely be a big hit."

"Right—I can do a cameo. But don't reveal my identity."

Ethan instructed specially.

If his identity was exposed and too many people knew, it would complicate future experience tasks from the Billionaire Check-In System.

What Ethan loved most now was experiencing those tasks.

They lasted longer—but the rewards were terrifyingly generous.

Suddenly obtaining Ferrari Group shares. One hundred percent ownership of Patek Philippe. And so on.

"No problem, Mr. Caldwell."

The director nodded repeatedly, afraid Ethan might change his mind.

"By the way—can I just call you Young Master Ethan on set?"

The director's brain worked quickly.

"Sure."

Ethan nodded.

Soon, under the director's arrangement, Ethan arrived at the filming site.

Today's scene was important—part of the opening. The lead actor and actress had been waiting early.

The moment Ethan appeared, the set stirred. Numerous actresses turned to look.

"What a handsome guy!"

"How come I haven't seen him before?"

"Maybe a newcomer who just debuted."

Murmurs spread.

When they discovered Ethan, many actresses couldn't take their eyes off him.

"Let's start, let's start."

Afraid of wasting Ethan's time, the director anxiously announced action as soon as he returned.

"Director, I haven't acted before. I don't know how to do it."

Before starting, Ethan said to the director.

The director couldn't help but smile wryly.

"Young Master Ethan—all you need to do is restrain yourself a bit. No need for anything else."

Those words intensified everyone's astonishment.

The director politely explained matters and plot to Ethan.

In the distance, the lead actor showed displeasure on his face.

He wasn't a complete rookie—he was a popular star with both looks and acting skills.

Originally he was supposed to be the main lead. Why did this "Young Master Ethan" seem to be in the spotlight, as if *he* were the lead?

The lead actor felt jealous.

When Ethan appeared, everyone's eyes—especially the actresses'—shifted entirely from him to Ethan.

Hearing the director address Ethan as Young Master, the lead actor subconsciously regarded him as connected rich second-generation.

A guy who squeezed in through connections.

Tsk.

Especially when he noticed actresses' eyes glued to Ethan since arrival, envy grew worse.

He was supposed to be the lead here.

Very soon, filming commenced.

Unexpectedly for the lead actor, something even more surprising happened.

He'd been waiting so long—but for filming, he wasn't needed at all.

The lead actor stood aside, watching Ethan and the actress film a scene with her gazing affectionately at him.

It really seemed like Ethan was the main character while the lead actor was a passerby.

Even more envious.

An hour or two passed. Done.

"Everyone take a break. We'll start again tomorrow."

The director announced.

The lead actor felt deflated.

What was the meaning of this?

He was the lead, wasn't he? Standing here all day—and now they weren't filming anymore?

Wasn't this a joke?

At that moment, he felt like crying.

"Young Master Ethan—tomorrow there's a scene involving a private jet and a mansion that needs you."

"Since we rented it for tomorrow, we'll need to wait until then to shoot."

The director explained quietly.

"A rented private jet and mansion?"

Ethan raised an eyebrow.

"Why rent? Just use mine. More convenient—and it won't cost anything."

Hearing that, everyone present was stunned.

Use his?

Did this handsome guy actually own a mansion and a legendary private jet?

Was he really that incredible?

"That's wonderful."

The director nodded excitedly.

"Everyone, hold on—we're going to shoot a private jet scene today."

He told those who hadn't left yet.

Afraid of wasting Ethan's time, the director was ready to shoot all his parts first, then continue with the others.

Now with Ethan's offer, they had more time.

Ethan made a call to Pacific Airlines Airport.

As top VIP, with one call, the airport prepared the venue.

Directed by arrangement, everyone made their way to the airport.

"Hmph. I don't believe you really have such an incredible private jet."

The lead actor muttered with a cold smile.

"How much does a private jet cost anyway—probably at least a billion, right?"

"No one could afford one unless they're worth hundreds of billions."

"Think about everyone you know who owns private jets—aren't they all big shots?"

"This Young Master Ethan's jet is probably some crappy, ordinary, maybe even second-hand one."

"Couldn't possibly be something really impressive."

The lead actor sneered inwardly.

If Ethan was trying to act cool, they were in for a show later.

He really didn't believe Ethan could have an impressive private jet.

After all, Ethan was too young.

On the way, the director suddenly thought of something and fell deep in thought.

Half an hour later, they arrived.

Under staff arrangements, they reached the area designated for private jets.

No scheduled departures or arrivals today—the area was very quiet.

Ethan and his team had ample time for filming.

"That's my private jet over there, director. You can start arranging the shoot."

Ethan pointed to the Bombardier Global 7000 in the distance.

Everyone looked and immediately let out exclamations.

"This private jet looks so high-end!"

"First time I've seen a private jet!"

"Our little brother Ethan is amazing."

Most present were seeing a private jet for the first time.

The lead actor turned to look. His expression changed.

"Hmph. Just looks sophisticated on the outside. Who knows if it's expensive?"

He stubbornly refused to accept reality.

"Is this a Bombardier Global 7000?"

The director asked with a trembling voice, utterly amazed.

"Yes."

Ethan nodded.

"Gulp."

The director swallowed hard, expression even more excited.

"Director, do you know this model?"

A curious actress asked.

"Of course. Bombardier Global 7000—one of the most expensive private jets in the world. Very low production rate every year."

"Currently, they sell internationally for around sixty to seventy million dollars, I think."

The director marveled.

Because they'd had to rent jets before, he'd done extensive research.

Their crew had rented a very ordinary private jet—which still cost a huge sum.

But a world-class expensive jet like this was beyond belief.

They couldn't even rent one at this level.

Yet Mr. Caldwell actually owned it.

No wonder he was the boss.

One of the most expensive private jets in the world?

Sixty to seventy million dollars each?

After the director's explanation, everyone in the crew froze.

Young Master Ethan owned such an incredible private jet?

He was really wealthy.

Like the director, they'd thought his jet might be more ordinary.

Who would've thought it was one of the most expensive in the world?

The lead actor was left dumbfounded.

A private jet like this—sixty million plus?

He began to question his life.

The difference from what he'd imagined was too vast.

He'd wanted to watch a show, right?

"Everyone, pay attention—Young Master Ethan's private jet is the one in the middle. Gather under the one in the middle."

The director loudly reminded, walking ahead with actors and crew.

"Everyone, don't go to the wrong one."

Three identical private jets sat on the tarmac.

Go to the wrong one and cause damage through carelessness—that would be catastrophic.

They couldn't afford to compensate a jet of this caliber.

"No worries."

Ethan added after hearing the director.

"All three private jets are mine. Everyone can feel free to look around."

The entire crowd went still.

All three belonged to Young Master Ethan?

Everyone stopped and turned to Ethan, faces full of disbelief.

They'd thought one such advanced jet was already impressive.

Now they were told all three Bombardier Global 7000s were his.

They began questioning their lives.

Comparing oneself to others caused frustration.

Young Master Ethan was so extremely wealthy it bordered on inhuman.

Which wealthy person doesn't buy private jets one at a time?

Young Master Ethan bought three at once.

How incredibly rich must he be?

A wealthy tycoon. No—a godlike tycoon. A super godlike tycoon.

The lead actor was even more shocked.

What?

Three—all three are his?

There's nothing wrong with my ears, right?

Having received permission, everyone sprinted toward the jets with curiosity.

They toured carefully, took photos—even the director wasn't an exception.

After touring awhile, under the director's arrangement, filming began.

Just like before, the lead actor remained a bystander, standing aside, staring blankly.

The cold wind continuously slapped his face.

More than an hour passed. Filming completed.

Ethan was essentially playing himself. His acting was naturally superb.

One take went through smoothly.

"We'll shoot the mansion scene tomorrow."

It was already late. Having completed the airport scene, the director called it a wrap.

"Young Master Ethan—tomorrow's mansion scene. Is it at your villa?"

The director asked.

"Mm."

Ethan nodded.

After chatting and agreeing to meet the next day, Ethan left.

Watching his departing figure, many actresses had hearts in their eyes.

Handsome, charismatic, and so wealthy?

Hard not to be attracted.

If there weren't so many people around, some female stars would've already tried clinging to him.

"Tomorrow's shoot at the mansion is also provided by Young Master Ethan. I wonder where it is?"

As they packed up, everyone chatted curiously.

"I think his mansion must be in one of the top villa areas in San Francisco—one of those legendary top ten, right?"

---

Chapter 206: Dynasty Palace on Set

"Yeah, I think so too. Ethan's luxury mansion might be in one of those elite coastal estates."

"I think it might be in the Hillside Enclave. The homes there are said to be like castles—that's the true elite district."

Everyone chimed in with opinions.

After Ethan left, the director went too. Without the director, everyone spoke freely.

"Hmph. Elite coastal estates? Hillside Enclave?"

"Does he deserve it?!"

The lead actor mocked after the director left.

He was overwhelmed with envy.

When Ethan was around, he didn't dare speak recklessly.

Now that Ethan was gone, he had no qualms bad-mouthing him behind his back.

"In my opinion, if his mansion is in Greenview Park, that would already be impressive."

The lead actor speculated honestly.

Owning three private jets was indeed impressive.

But they're just private jets—with money, you can buy them.

Luxury mansions in San Francisco's top villa districts can't be bought with money alone nowadays.

You need matching status and a strong network.

Only a few top villa areas exist in the city. Each has very few properties.

San Francisco has an absurd number of big shots. These homes have long been divided among them.

Neither Hillside Enclave nor the coastal estates ranked low among the top ten—they were mid to above-middle tier.

Those who lived there were top tycoons or super-rich.

Greenview Park, which the lead actor mentioned, was also famous—but a tier lower.

"Makes some sense."

"Quite possible."

Some nodded in agreement.

"I don't believe Ethan's mansion is in Greenview Park."

An actress stepped up, confronting the lead actor.

"Yeah, I don't believe it either."

"Ethan's mansion is definitely way better than Greenview Park—at least as good as Hillside Enclave."

Other actresses stood up collectively, refuting the lead actor.

In their hearts, Ethan was already a prince charming—a top demigod.

How could a demigod live in Greenview Park?

"Hmph. Don't believe it—let's see tomorrow."

The lead actor sneered. He couldn't win an argument against these women.

He planned to let facts speak.

"Let's see then."

"How about a bet? Whoever guesses wrong shouts 'I'm a fool' three times in front of everyone."

The actress challenged him.

She'd observed closely and noticed details hinting at Ethan's extraordinary identity.

She had full confidence.

"Hmm."

The lead actor fell silent.

He was quite a figure in the entertainment industry.

If he lost and had to shout that, it would likely hit Trendline—even top it.

He might become a laughingstock.

"What's wrong—scared?"

"Our leading man afraid to bet with a little girl like me?"

The actress goaded.

"Damn it—a bet it is."

The lead actor gritted his teeth and agreed, ninety-nine percent confident.

He's just Ethan Caldwell, right?

What the heck is he?

Countless top young masters existed in San Francisco.

He even knew some from the East Coast.

"Let's wait and see."

The next day, everyone gathered at the set.

Ethan arrived, causing a stir.

After chatting with the director and shooting other scenes—less than an hour—it was time for mansion scenes.

"Follow me."

Ethan drove ahead, leading the way while others followed.

The crew and actors were extremely excited.

Today they'd see what one of San Francisco's top ten villa areas looked like.

Hearts filled with curiosity and excitement.

The most nervous person was the lead actor.

Ninety-nine percent confident—but his heart still raced as truth would soon be unveiled.

Most importantly, he had a bet.

Time ticked by. Eventually, Ethan led them to Dynasty Palace.

Seeing the Dynasty Palace sign, everyone was stunned.

Dynasty Palace?!

The legendary number-one luxury home in San Francisco?!

Ethan's villa was in famed Dynasty Palace?

Is this place that impressive?

Yesterday, three private jets had been shocking enough.

Now knowing the mansion was in Dynasty Palace—the astonishment was ten times greater.

The reputed number-one mansion in San Francisco.

Anyone living here was a top tycoon.

Was Ethan's identity really this extraordinary?

When they arrived, Ethan got out. Everyone followed, eyes wide, excitedly taking in the surroundings.

"Is this San Francisco's number-one luxury mansion? Why does it feel like a palace?"

"The luxury here is probably on par with modern royal residences."

"Grand, magnificent, gorgeous, imposing—this is truly where important figures should live."

Everyone looked at Ethan's mansion in awe.

Curiosity at its peak, they didn't dare move recklessly—even treading lightly on the ground.

The lead actor was last out of the car, holding the door for support.

Seeing the Dynasty Palace sign earlier, his legs had already gone weak.

Now he felt completely disoriented.

"Ahem. Don't forget now."

The actress from yesterday approached, "kindly" reminding him.

"I'm a fool! I'm a fool! I'm a fool!!!"

Finally, closing his eyes, the lead actor shouted loudly.

If he didn't shout and Ethan found out, he might be finished.

With that shocking declaration, everyone shifted focus from Ethan to him.

"What's with him?"

"Did envy drive him crazy?"

"Poor guy—doesn't he know comparisons can kill?"

Crew members who didn't know about yesterday's bet shook their heads in sympathy.

"Hmm?"

Even the director frowned, wondering if they should consider replacing this lead.

His behavior seemed abnormal.

Quickly, cameras were ready. Filming began.

A few hours later, filming was done.

They'd temporarily completed Ethan's scenes.

With time left in the day, Ethan sent the director and team off, then drove his Ferrari straight to Bay Elite Supercar Club.

He'd just become president. Naturally, he needed to pay more attention.

When Ethan arrived at Bay Elite, there weren't many people inside.

Former president Tyler Chen, Mason Zhen, and the others weren't present—only Vice President Sterling Ji was there.

"Ethan, you're here."

"Hello, President."

"Hello, Ethan."

As soon as Ethan stepped in, a few members gathered around.

These were second-generation rich from San Francisco who liked playing with cars when bored.

Since Ethan owned a Pagani Zonda HP Barchetta, they saw him as an idol—especially popular.

These members hadn't participated in that gathering and didn't know Ethan's full identity, so they weren't too restrained.

"Oh, the President is here?"

Hearing the noise, Vice President Sterling Ji came out.

Sterling had previously gone to the East Coast and just returned to San Francisco yesterday.

As soon as he arrived today, he heard the president had unexpectedly changed.

"I am Vice President of the club—and Deputy General Manager of the Shen Group, Sterling Ji."

Sterling introduced himself, making a point of mentioning his Shen Group position.

"Hello."

Ethan nodded. As for the Shen Group, he didn't pay much attention.

With the crowd surrounding him, Ethan went into a lounge.

Even as president, he wasn't very familiar with the club yet.

A few members volunteered to introduce it and came in together.

As Vice President, Sterling Ji came in too.

If he hadn't gone to the East Coast, Sterling would've been excited to know Ethan owned a Pagani Zonda HP Barchetta.

But after seeing the extravagant lifestyle of some East Coast super-rich, his outlook had broadened. He remained extremely calm.

Ethan chatted with members, asking about the club, while Sterling occasionally chimed in.

"President, besides racing, do you have any other hobbies?"

Sterling tried to find a topic.

"Hobbies?"

Ethan thought for a moment.

"Not really anything else. I'm just planning to dabble in finance lately because I'm bored."

He said honestly.

Recently, the Billionaire Check-In System hadn't issued experience tasks, so Ethan had more time.

Of the ten billion he'd had before, he'd already invested a portion in his companies.

Previously at Regent Bank, he'd been handling that matter.

Apart from that portion, he still had money on hand.

With nothing else to do, he planned to try finance in his spare time.

"Dabble in finance?"

Sterling muttered to himself, contemplating something.

"Playing in finance is great. Does the President know San Francisco's financial tycoon, Grant Zheng?"

Sterling inquired.

"Grant Zheng?"

"Yes, I know him."

Ethan nodded.

"I'm friends with Mr. Zheng. Whenever Mr. Caldwell wants to get into finance, you can find me—I'll have a word with Mr. Zheng to guide you so you don't lose money."