Urban System in America-Chapter 73 - 72: Carefully Crafted Illusion

Stepping out of the hotel’s doors, Rex exhaled deeply. The morning air, brisk and slightly smoggy, did little to cleanse the bitter taste left by what he’d just experienced.

He turned his eyes back to the towering hotel behind him, a structure that, from the outside, still carried the illusion of luxury with its grand pillars and polished glass façade. But now he’d seen what lay beneath: the rotting service, the crumbling spirit, the staff that had long given up.

He muttered quietly, "I didn’t expect it to be this bad."

Victor, standing silently beside him, gave a questioning glance. Rex’s voice came again, calm but commanding, "Get me everything. I want full records of this hotel—financials, reviews, ownership changes. Especially the last few months. Everything."

Victor hesitated for half a second. The obsession in Rex’s tone wasn’t something he quite understood. This hotel wasn’t worth the trouble. They were just here for breakfast... but he didn’t question. Not Rex.

"On it," Victor nodded and stepped aside to make a call, already dialing into one of the company’s private information channels.

Meanwhile, a few paces away, Kaelan stayed at a calculated distance, still curious, still watching.

Rex didn’t linger. He turned and walked down the street, cutting across two intersections until he found a modest-looking diner tucked between a laundromat and an old bookstore. The neon sign buzzed gently above the entrance, and the scent of fresh coffee wafted through the glass door.

Inside, he slid into a booth and ordered the same meal he had back at the hotel—eggs, toast, and orange juice.

Ironically, the difference was like heaven and earth.

The food came within minutes, steaming and golden. The eggs were perfectly soft, the toast crisped just right, and the juice was cold and freshly squeezed. No drama. No performance. Just honest service and good food.

Rex ate calmly, mechanically, his mind not entirely on the meal but cataloguing everything. The staff here moved with quiet efficiency, and even the decor—simple leather booths, polished wood counters, sunlight spilling in through clean windows—had more soul than that hollow temple of marble he’d just walked out of.

He didn’t rush. The calmness wasn’t just habit, it was the eye of the storm forming in his mind.

Before he finished his last bite, the bell above the diner door jingled. A man in a black suit stepped inside, scanning the room until his eyes landed on Victor, who had already returned and stood waiting near the entrance.

Victor stepped forward, took the file folder from the man’s hand, nodded once, and headed toward Rex.

By the time Rex had paid and returned to his car, Victor was already inside, documents in hand.

He passed them to Rex without a word.

Rex took the folder and flipped it open, scanning the information quickly but thoroughly. As he read, a small, wry smile touched the corner of his lips.

So that’s how it is.

According to the report, the hotel had once been a vision. Its previous owner wasn’t a seasoned businessman but a nouveau riche, a man who’d stumbled into wealth through sheer luck.

The story was almost laughable: he’d inherited worthless land in the heart of LA, land that sat untouched for years. But when a major private development unexpectedly expanded into the area, he found himself in the crosshairs of negotiation. Developers offered him increasingly large sums to sell, but he was shrewd, and against all odds, he held his ground.

Eventually, they cracked.

He sold the land for a staggering $200 million.

Almost overnight, the man went from small-time businessman to sudden mogul. He did what many do when fortune comes without foundation—he splurged. Designer clothes, imported watches, a luxury mansion in Beverly Hills, a custom sports car. The usual trophies.

After splurging for a while, he finally realized that he couldn’t go on like this.

So, on the insistent advice of his cousin, a former hotel worker with big dreams and louder promises, he decided to invest in hospitality.

According to his cousin, hotels were practically goldmines. As long as the basics were done perfectly, it was just pure profit for years to come.

Rex read further, eyebrows slightly raised.

The man was immediately tempted. So after hesitating a bit, he went all in. Instead of testing the waters with a modest venture, he poured nearly $160 million into the project, almost all of his remaining assets.

His ambitions weren’t small. He wanted to create a landmark in LA, so he bought a prime location, hired top-tier designers, brought in the best construction firms, and imported Italian marble, Scandinavian furniture, and handwoven carpets from Persia.

He even poached experienced staff from the top hotels in LA, offering them nearly double their salaries.

The result?

A towering structure of modern grandeur, opened with champagne and media touting it as the best luxury hotel in LA.

But beauty means nothing when rot sets in behind the walls.

In the beginning, it did live up to expectations. Everything was top-notch—from the location to the food to the service. It ranked among the best.

And why wouldn’t it? The ones planning and managing it were top experts they had poached from international hotel chains at high prices.

But the carnival didn’t last long. Seeing that the hotel was on the right track, the cousin asked to be the manager. Considering it was his cousin’s idea to start the hotel, how he had been part of it from the beginning, and how he had experience in the service industry, wouldn’t it be better to leave it in the cousin’s hands rather than a stranger’s? He gave in and made him the manager.

Mismanagement followed almost immediately. The cousin, now hotel manager, used his newfound authority recklessly. Nepotism flourished. Unqualified friends filled key positions. Supplies were mishandled, contractors went unpaid, and worst of all, there were whispers of theft, bribery, and backdoor dealings.

The staff began to leave, one by one.

But the owner was still in the dark, not understanding anything. His cousin constantly reassured him that things like these were normal in the industry and just schemes by jealous rivals. He told him not to worry, that he’d work things out.

And indeed, things got better for a while. But that was all a carefully crafted illusion.

After some time, seeing that he wasn’t suspicious anymore, chaos followed again. The manager was busy filling his own pockets. Unqualified staff, subpar materials, and nepotism flourished.

As a result, the reputation crumbled faster than the facade. Negative reviews flooded in. Guests complained of bad service, cold meals, rude staff, moldy rooms.

Within a year, the hotel was bleeding money.

(Continued...)