For a few minutes, Finn’s mind raced, a whirlwind of possibilities. He took a deep breath, forcing the chaos to settle. The sheer freedom was intoxicating, but he knew its pitfalls. It was the same trap that had ensnared him in countless hours of games like Worldforge, leaving him with a graveyard of half-finished castles and abandoned mega-structures. He had learned from those mistakes; it was better to be systematic than haphazard.
His first decision, before he even imagined a single block of stone, was to settle on a style. Presentation was paramount, and he needed a clear architectural direction. So, what would it be?
Should he raise a Lord's Manor from the void, its boundary walls crowned with crenelated towers, its great house pocked with dormer windows flashing stained glass, and its gardens dotted with regal sculptures? Or should he pursue a different vision entirely, like the palace of an Arab Sheikh, a wonder of pointed domes and gilded onion arches, its walls a breathtaking mosaic of geometric designs and flowing calligraphy?
Truthfully, for all his grand ideas, Finn knew next to nothing about architecture. Anything spectacular he’d ever built in a game was cobbled together from designs he’d found online, mixed and matched until he was satisfied. He planned to do the same here, but first, he needed a theme.
After some deliberation, he settled on the manor. He didn't have a specific blueprint in mind, just a vague, comforting image of grandeur. He'd seen a few pictures of Birmingham palace online; perhaps that was the feeling he should aim for. The choice felt right. With winter on the horizon, that was the kind of comfort he imagined in the cold.
With his decision made, he set to work. At first, he expected to drag and drop items from panels, just like in a game, but he quickly discovered the Interface was far more intuitive. He simply had to think it. As he pictured the ideal form, the Hotel began to take shape before him. Whenever his thoughts strayed beyond the permitted boundaries or into territory that would cost Crossroads Points, he was instantly alerted, and he adjusted his design accordingly.
The boundary wall rose from the ground, formed of cobblestones so perfectly uniform they seemed cast from a single mold. It stood twelve feet high and eight feet thick, topped with a wide walkway where guards might one day patrol, or guests might simply admire the view. A large, arch-shaped wooden gate was set into the center of the front-facing wall, from which a cobbled road led through a manicured garden toward a small manor. Despite Finn’s grander visions, the gardens remained empty of statues; those cost Crossroads Points, a currency he was determined to conserve.
The straight road ended in a roundabout before the stone staircase that served as the manor’s main entrance. The doors opened into a great hall, which doubled as a lobby. A long, polished wooden bar occupied the far end, ready for the host to greet his guests. Beside the bar, a grand staircase swept up to the first floor, where three guest rooms awaited. Each was furnished with a king-sized bed, a small walk-in closet, two side tables, a dresser, several chairs, and its own private restroom. To the right of the lobby was a cozy lounge where guests could relax and mingle, its comfortable wooden furniture arranged around a grand fireplace. A fire was perpetually lit within, though by some magic it gave off no smoke or scorching heat, only a gentle, pervasive warmth. To the left of the lobby lay the eatery, which maintained the same elegant wooden furnishings but in a more casual, open setting. A door beside the staircase led out to the back of the manor, where the garden was landscaped with gentle, rolling hills—a stark contrast to the formal gardens out front—and dotted with lawn chairs and a pair of large garden swings.
Finn had wanted to add a touch of life—trees, squirrels, a few birds—but each cost Crossroads Points. Though the prices seemed cheap, he had no idea what other expenses lay ahead or how difficult the points were to earn, so he controlled the impulse. Everything structural, from the walls to the furniture, came free with the Building Permit.
“What do you think, Clio?” he asked, looking down at his creation. A surge of pride washed over him. All of this was his.
“The Hotel meets the basic requirements to function. It can comfortably meet the basic needs of guests up to Aether Training and is acceptable for guests at the Praxis Formation.”
“What if there’s a guest above Praxis Formation?”
“The host does not have the necessary authority to ask questions pertaining to anything at or above Praxis Formation,” she answered cheerily.
Finn nodded. He’d expected as much.
Next, he pulled out his 2 AI lease certificate and crushed it in his hand. The certificate began to glow and split into two shimmering lights, which slowly solidified into two figures: a lean, elderly man and a young woman who looked slightly older than Finn. The old man had neatly combed grey hair and a thick, grey mustache, and he was dressed in a pristine suit. The woman’s hair was tied in a neat bun, and she wore a similar, professional suit.
“Greetings, Innkeeper. We are your AI assistants. Please advise us,” they spoke in perfect unison.
“What are your names, and what can you help me with?” he asked.
“We can manage all tasks you assign us, from cooking, cleaning, and entertainment to management, gardening, or anything else you can devise. Please note, if you require us to fight, our combat level is below that of the average human child. Should you require us to assail a chicken, we will do so without hesitation; if fortune favors us, we may even return alive. For any task more perilous, we cannot guarantee a similar outcome. We do not currently have names. Please guide us,” they replied, their voices still unnervingly synchronized.
Finn’s lips twitched. The Crossroads Hotel was truly determined to leave him defenseless, wasn’t it? What was he supposed to do against a violent guest with a high Somatic level? At least he had the Butter Knife.
“Very well. You,” he said, pointing to the old man, “will be Gerard. And you are Vera,” he added, looking at the young woman. “Vera, you’ll stay in the lobby and receive guests. Gerard, you’ll take care of any requests the guests might have. I can’t think of much else right now, so I’ll give you more jobs as they come up.”
Both AIs nodded in silent assent.
“Is there anything else I need to do, Clio, or should I just use the golden tickets now?”
“You can use the golden tickets. The first ticket selection is fixed to the host’s home world. For subsequent tickets, you may select a world based on your authority. When choosing a world, the host should keep his current capability in mind. Please note, the host can only use one golden ticket a week.”
Finn nodded again, the gesture becoming instinctive. He summoned a golden ticket. It was small, about the size of his palm, with ‘Crossroads Hotel’ printed in bold black letters. It was a shame he’d have to wait a week to visit other worlds, since the first ticket would just link the Hotel to Terra, but he could live with it. Filled with a mixture of excitement and anxiety, he tore his first golden ticket in two. The pieces began to shine, dissolving in his hand like sand slipping through his fingers.
Quest update: Quest Complete! The Host is rewarded with: Crossroads Hotel Level +1!
Remarks: Your journey has just begun, don’t slack off.
New Quest: Receive your first guest!
Finn raised an eyebrow at the notification. “Clio, what does the increase in Crossroads Hotel Level mean?”
“It represents the authority level you have. The higher the Level of the Hotel, the more access you have to the various functions of the System.”
Finn nodded; it was as he’d assumed. He took a moment to look at his updated status.
Cultivation Level: Mortal
Health: Suboptimal (developing brain tumor, damaged muscles, damaged joints, weakened digestive system, weakened lungs, weakened heart, mild nicotine addiction…select to display full list)
Crossroads Hotel Level: 1
Inventory: All-Terrain Soles, Self Defense Butter Knife, 2 Golden Tickets, Host Attire
Quest: Receive your first guest!
Remark: Your back has more hair than your chest! Please indulge in some self-care and don’t humiliate the Crossroads Hotel!
It was done. All he had to do now was wait. In the meantime, perhaps he should browse all the things he could buy with Crossroads Points. And try very hard to ignore that last remark.