The money was ready, and he possessed a proper weapon, so Boshita didn't waste any more precious time and immediately drove back to the upscale clothing store. He carefully chose the best-fitting suit available, and in an instant, he transformed dramatically from a down-and-out street thug into a refined gentleman, already carrying some of the inherent noble aura he possessed in Real Life.
He straightened his collar meticulously in the mirror and hurried toward the location specified on the elegant invitation, his Harley rumbling beneath him. Banquets like this were remarkably similar to those held regularly in the Elven Empire's high society, and he was extremely familiar with the etiquette and social dynamics involved.
Passing a large parking lot filled with expensive vehicles, a private dock appeared ahead, extending into the dark water. On the gently rippling water floated what was described as a luxurious yacht, though its actual size was closer to a small cruise ship.
He showed the invitation to the security, and they escorted him respectfully onto the main deck without question. On the spacious deck, elegantly dressed guests chatted animatedly in small, exclusive groups, their laughter carrying over the sound of the gentle waves. Attractive waitresses occasionally passed by with silver trays laden with expensive drinks and exotic finger foods.
A stern-looking middle-aged Moon Elf with distinguished graying hair was speaking authoritatively to someone nearby, his posture radiating military experience. Judging by his commanding dress and bearing, this should be the retired colonel himself.
Seeing Boshita approach, he showed immediate interest, his experienced eyes assessing the newcomer.
"Good evening, young man!" he greeted warmly, opening his arms in a welcoming gesture.
"You must be the young gentleman attending on behalf of Mr. Rosenberg tonight."
"He seems to have run into some unfortunate trouble recently, from what I hear."
"Oh, right, what was your name again?" he asked casually.
"Boshita... Boshita Tommy Vercetti," he replied calmly, using his full character name.
"We've indeed run into some serious problems lately," he admitted carefully.
Boshita tried subtly to ask about the missing goods and the ambush, hoping the colonel might have useful information. The colonel seemed to know something relevant but brushed it off vaguely, clearly not wanting to discuss business at a social event.
Instead, he smoothly changed the subject and introduced his daughter with obvious pride.
Mercedes.
A strikingly sexy elf woman with luxurious, deep wine-red hair that cascaded over her bare shoulders. Her expensive dress perfectly outlined her curves.
Mercedes immediately showed strong interest in Boshita, her eyes lighting up with lustful appreciation. After being told by her father to entertain their guest, she immediately hooked his arm possessively and dragged him aside to whisper conspiratorially, her perfume overwhelming.
Then she began enthusiastically introducing important figures at the party, clearly enjoying playing the tour guide.
"See that human in the expensive gray suit with gold-rimmed glasses?" she asked quietly, gesturing subtly with her delicate chin.
"This is our congressman, Alex Shrub, with the rising silicone star Candy Suxxx."
She pointed discreetly to a short green figure holding court nearby.
"That goblin-looking one over there is Kent Paul, Liberty City's most connected information broker."
"And that distinguished deer-headed man is real estate tycoon Avery, he owns half the waterfront."
"Orc Jezz Torrent over there is the lead singer of Raging Fist."
"Gonzalez the crocodile is my father's loyal right-hand man."
"Director Scott the gray elf runs the city's entertainment licensing."
She introduced them one by one, each name carrying a certain weight and influence.
At that precise moment, a large imposing figure with several followers stepped confidently onto the deck, his presence immediately commanding attention.
He shouted loudly as soon as he arrived, his voice booming.
"Hey! Old friend!"
"Your parties are always absolutely magnificent, hahaha! Sorry, I'm fashionably late!"
"No problem at all, how have you been lately?" the colonel replied warmly, shaking his hand enthusiastically. Clearly, this was a genuinely big figure in Liberty City's underworld.
"Who's that loud tiger?" Boshita asked Mercedes quietly, intrigued.
"That's Ricardo Diaz, the city's biggest and most dangerous smuggler," she explained, her voice dropping.
"He deals in weapons, herbs, casinos, protection, lots of profitable industries."
Ricardo noticed them watching and waved happily in their direction.
"Hi there, Mercedes!" he called out.
But she clearly disliked him intensely, her expression souring.
"Ah, I was just taking my friend back to the city, actually. See you next time, Mr. Diaz!" she said dismissively.
Ignoring Boshita's confused protest, she dragged him away forcefully toward the exit. She wanted to go to the famous Malibu Club and asked him to take her there immediately, brooking no argument.
He agreed reluctantly, not wanting to offend the colonel's daughter.
He rode the Harley with Mercedes clinging behind him, her body pressed close. Her hands weren't well-behaved at all, hugging his waist intimately and even feeling his muscles through the expensive suit appreciatively.
Boshita blushed slightly beneath his blue skin, she was far too bold and forward. Along the way she complained bitterly about the suffocating lack of freedom in powerful families, showing obvious dissatisfaction and resentment toward her controlling father.
Boshita couldn't respond meaningfully to her complaints. As a duke's son himself in real life, he knew very well that his privileged life was exactly what countless people desperately dreamed of having. She enjoyed tremendous privilege yet complained endlessly about its minor constraints, clearly a rebellious rich girl who had been pampered her whole life.
He finally dropped her off at Malibu Club, a massive dance hall with pulsing lights visible from outside. Deafening electronic music blasted from within, the bass letting the air vibrate. Young people danced wildly under strobing flashing lights, losing themselves completely.
But Boshita didn't particularly like the overwhelming atmosphere and left quickly after politely escorting her inside, making his escape.
Rowan, however, absolutely loved such places and thrived in them.
At Apex Nightclub across town, he was staring lustfully at the pole-dancing bunny girl performing on the elevated stage. Her cute, innocent face contrasted with her sensual movements, her fluffy ears bouncing, and her tiny cotton tail twitching almost hypnotically.
Liberty City kept constantly surprising him with new experiences, and even the prospect of earning money felt more motivating and exciting now. He ordered expensive fruit wine and settled in to watch the show appreciatively, his Sun Elf avatar looking completely out of place.
People constantly came and went through the club, some entering mysterious private rooms for unknown purposes that Rowan could only imagine. He couldn't afford those exclusive services yet, unfortunately, so he left after lingering as long as he deemed acceptable without ordering more drinks.
Now he'd changed jobs entirely, abandoning delivery work. His income was far too low and carried too much risk from theft and fines, so he'd become a taxi driver instead, which paid considerably better for less hassle.
Sitting comfortably in his yellow taxi, he opened the map interface, and many yellow markers appeared scattered across the city, potential passengers waiting. The system was simple: pick them up at yellow markers, drive them safely to their requested destinations, and earn fares. Easy money.
Under the brilliant neon lights of Liberty City's never-sleeping streets, Rowan sped recklessly through the traffic, his driving skills improving rapidly through constant practice. Some aggressive cars tried to cut him off, so he rammed them sideways without hesitation, sending one crashing violently into the curb.
Rowan laughed loudly at the carnage, feeling invincible.
A dog-headed patrol officer tried to stop him for traffic violations, but the yellow taxi had already vanished into the maze of streets before he could pursue Rowan.
There wasn't surveillance everywhere in this city, if he drove fast enough, the police simply couldn't catch him! It was the perfect system exploitation.
He arrived at the destination finally, braking hard.
[Cash +120]
The passenger climbed out shakily, clearly traumatized by the aggressive driving.
Rowan glanced at the destination location with interest: Saintheart Street Stock Exchange Hall.