The soft glow of morning sun spilled through the glass-paneled windows, painting golden streaks across the minimalist interior of Liam's penthouse.
A faint breeze drifted in through the cracked balcony door, carrying with it the distant sound of the waking city.
Liam stirred, yawned, and sat up in bed with a calm, easy smile.
Ever since the system had entered his life, mornings had taken on a different tone—no more rush, no alarms, no anxiety.
I guess this is the effect of having inner peace and no longer having to worry about anything. It feels like freedom.
"System," he said, voice still groggy. "Sign-in."
A soft chime rang in his head.
[Congratulations, Host. You received a custom-made watch: Patek Philippe Calatrava 5196P "Monarch Edition", a custom-made suit: Savile Row "Langford Model" Two-Piece, a custom-made shoe: George Cleverley "Churchill Last" Wholecut.]
[Items are in the wardrobe.]
Liam blinked. He had to reread the notification twice before it sunk in.
"A custom watch... suit... and shoes?"
He chuckled in disbelief and rubbed his eyes. "I guess the system's really trying to get me out of the house."
Still slightly dazed, he slid out of bed and made his way to the nearly empty, large walk-in wardrobe .
As he opened the wardrobe doors, he was greeted by an elegant trio of items that exuded wealth, refinement, and old-world craftsmanship.
To the far right sat a modest dark brown cardboard box with a subtle embossed logo and the word Patek printed underneath it in soft ivory. Beside it was a charcoal cotton garment bag, neatly zipped, with Anderson & Sheppard stitched discreetly in white thread on the upper flap. And to the left—a dark green rectangular shoebox with a quiet gold-foil logo that read George Cleverley.
Liam felt like a kid staring at gifts on Christmas morning.
He picked up the Patek Philippe box first.
Lifting the outer shell revealed a polished lacquered presentation box inside, its high-gloss mahogany finish gleaming in the morning light. He opened it, and there it was—the watch.
It rested gently on a soft cushion, its platinum case glinting, the slate-grey dial calm and elegant, the white gold Breguet numerals subtle but refined.
But what caught his eye even more was what surrounded it: a gold-plated nameplate engraved with the words Monarch Edition, a sealed envelope bearing the Patek seal, and a letter printed on thick cream-colored paper.
He opened the envelope and unfolded the certificate within.
"Certificate of Origin — Commissioned Piece No. 1 of 1.
Calatrava 5196P - Monarch Edition
Created for: Liam Scott."
The second letter was from Patek themselves—handwritten, thanking him for "commissioning a legacy heirloom."
Liam couldn't help but smile.
He picked up the watch and slipped it around his wrist. As soon as the clasp snapped into place, information streamed into his mind.
It felt... perfect. Balanced. The strap hugged his wrist like it was meant to be there. Not heavy, but definitely present. Every tick felt precise, deliberate—like time itself was moving at Liam's pace now.
He took it off gently and placed it back in its case.
He unzipped the Anderson & Sheppard garment bag and slowly pulled out the suit resting inside. Midnight navy. Wool so soft it almost felt like cashmere, and yet there was a strength in the weave that spoke of legacy.
He nodded, impressed despite himself.
"Never thought I'd wear something ."
Lastly, he turned to the shoebox.
He lifted the lid to reveal two flannel bags, oxblood in color, soft to the touch. Inside were a pair of breathtaking wholecut oxfords—smooth, seamless, and flawless.
"System," he muttered, "you're really outdoing yourself."
[I'm glad you like them, Host.]
"Like them? I love them."
For a moment, he just stood there, staring at the items like they were museum pieces.
He didn't need to know luxury to understand quality. He could feel it.
As for their costs? Watch: $600,000+, Suit: $14,000, Shoes: $8,000. This brings everything to a total cost of $622,000 in custom craftsmanship resting quietly in his wardrobe.
And not a dollar had left his account.
It really feels good to have nice things.
With a gleam in his eye, he headed to the bathroom. He wants to take his bath and try on the suit.
Liam stood in front of the full-length mirror.
The suit fit like it had been sewn on his body thread by thread. The midnight navy color complemented his skin tone, giving him a mature, composed look.
The subtle sheen of the wool caught the light just enough, never loud, always reserved. The shoulders framed him perfectly, and the forward-cut sleeves gave him a commanding silhouette.
The George Cleverley wholecuts grounded the look—giving him an elegant, yet quietly powerful look.
And on his wrist, the Patek Philippe Monarch Edition completed the ensemble. Making him look refined, regal and unapologetic.
Overall, he looked... timeless.
His short dark hair was neatly styled. His ocean-blue eyes seemed sharper, more piercing in contrast to the deep navy of the suit. His build—slender but athletic—carried the suit well.
For the first time, he didn't just look like he belonged in the room.
He looked like he owned the room.
Liam adjusted his cuffs, glanced down at his shoes, then back at the mirror.
"Damn," he murmured, smirking. "I clean up nice."
Nice. I have the outfit, all I need is an occasion.
Then, unbidden, a face flashed in his mind.
He chuckled softly and shook his head.
"With the way our last conversation ended, I won't be surprised if she calls soon with another 'casual' invite."
He had no plans yet and no event to attend. But now, if something came up... he was ready.
For now, he slipped off the suit, the shoe and the watch and began preparing himself something to eat.
The door to the penthouse opened and Liam walked in. He dropped small shopping bag with Apple logo on the sofa, as he equally sank into it.
He was about to start setting up his phone when his buzzed. He checked it and he saw that it was a message from Stacy.
"Hi. Sorry for yesterday. I want to invite you out for dinner or a drink, to apologize for my lack of manners. I hope you will accept my apology."
He had already expected her to send a message, so he wasn't exactly surprised. But he didn't reply immediately, as he set up his new phone first.
After he was done with the phone setup, he decided to reply. He had thought about it and he decided to accept her invitation, as he has nothing to do at home.
"Either are fine by me. Give me a time and location, and I will be there."
Immediately, he received a response from her.
"Thanks for replying and accepting my apology. There's a great diner downtown—Noir & Thyme. Let's meet there, 6pm?"
"Sure. I will be there."
Liam sighed, dropping his phone on the sofa. He had already gotten himself a new phone—iPhone 16 Pro Max.
It felt kind of strange causally spending more than $1,000 on a phone. Just three days ago, he was at the end of his wits. But all that has changed.
It felt strange and surreal to say the least. But he was enjoying it.