Urban LitRPG System-Chapter 88: Invitation.

Max stepped out of the university class, the evening sun stretching low across the horizon, warm light falling over the campus as students slowly filtered out, Finn and Jeanne walking beside him, Jeanne carrying a smirk and satisfaction after scoring a perfect result in today’s class, the small confidence visible in the way she held her bag.

" I’ll see you tomorrow "

" Yeah "

After saying goodbye to Jeanne at the gate, Max and Finn continued toward the parking lot, the path familiar, the crowd thinning as the day settled, Finn already starting to talk, his energy completely different, jumping straight into a story about a girl he had been with last night.

" Dude, she was so fucking hot "

" I don’t want to hear it "

Max replied immediately, his tone flat, eyes forward, already regretting letting Finn start, but Finn ignored him like always.

" Come on dude, she has this huge boobs — fake ones "

Finn gestured wildly with his hands to show the size, completely unbothered by the public setting, while Max’s face tightened with visible irritation, trying to shut him down before he embarrassed him further, his pace slightly faster as if walking away could also escape the conversation.

" Alright, alright. I understand, you don’t have to show me "

Max said while slapping Finn’s hand away before he could continue the demonstration, the gesture quick and final, his expression making it clear the conversation was over, while Finn laughed like he had expected that reaction anyway, and they naturally parted for a few moments.

Finn heading toward the car parking area while Max walked toward his bike parking space, the evening air cooling as the lot grew quieter, Max already shifting his attention toward the next item in his schedule rather than the conversation they just had.

Max received a call from an unknown number while walking, the phone vibrating in his hand just as he reached his bike, and seeing the unfamiliar number he answered without hesitation because he was expecting confirmations today after sending multiple requests in the morning.

" Hello? "

" Hello, Sir, this is the booking manager from Dallmayr. I’ve received your reservation request and wanted to talk with you about that, are you free right now? "

" Yes, I am free "

Max answered while stepping beside his bike, sliding the phone between shoulder and ear for a moment as he positioned the machine, not needing both hands to balance or roll it toward the parking gate, his control natural, guiding the bike forward using only his legs while listening, because confirming logistics while moving saved time and he already knew the request would be about availability, guest count, and formality level.

" Sir, we are glad to inform you the private table for ten guests is available tomorrow night. The timing can be flexible. May I ask if you are hosting a celebration or a formal dinner? "

The question mattered because service structure changed depending on intent — noise tolerance, pacing of courses, staff distance, and privacy level.

" Not a celebration. It’s a business dinner, with city officials. "

Max replied simply, giving only what was necessary, enough context for them to switch from hospitality mode to discretion mode without revealing names on call.

" Understood, Sir. In that case we will prepare an appropriate setting — quiet service, private staff allocation, and a tailored menu. You may arrive anytime from early evening until late night. We will be ready to serve according to your schedule. "

That confirmation meant the room would be blocked, staff briefed, and table turnover disabled, which was the real reason Max chose Dallmayr, because reliability mattered more than food when hosting officials, and he had sent the email earlier in the morning while leaving home specifically to secure that guarantee in advance.

Dallmayr being one of the oldest two-Michelin-star restaurants in Munich where reservation priority, discretion, and execution consistency made it suitable for the kind of dinner he intended to host.

After ending the call Max realized the bike was already in position and he was ready to move, the alignment done without conscious effort, hands, posture, balance all settling naturally as if the sequence had run on its own, and he noticed it immediately.

The realization quiet but satisfying, this god-tier skill was no longer something he activated deliberately, it was becoming instinct, which meant less thinking, faster execution, fewer mistakes — a useful shift.

*BROOOM*

The dry clutch of the Superleggera V4 rattled sharply through the parking lot, that distinctive mechanical chatter filling the concrete space before the engine settled into a deep rumble.

The bike jumped forward with an aggressive response the moment he released the clutch, Max leaning into the motion rather than reacting to it, using his body weight to stabilize the launch and guide it out of the slot in one clean movement, no hesitation, no correction. 𝕗𝗿𝕖𝐞𝐰𝗲𝕓𝐧𝕠𝕧𝗲𝐥.𝚌𝐨𝚖

Getting out he saw Finn already outside in his car, window slightly down, phone angled toward his face while he talked to a girl, animated as usual, completely absorbed, and Max just shook his head once, and as he passed the car he tapped the bonnet once, a brief signal to let Finn know he was heading out, then he accelerated forward, the bike’s sound stretching into the street as the parking lot disappeared behind him.

They were heading toward Finn’s dad’s showroom, Max planning to change the tires on his bike and handle a full service at the same time, using the visit as a practical reason rather than making the invitation feel forced, because inviting Finn’s parents to the Dallmayr dinner worked better in person, the timing was intentional on his part, the setting natural, making it a strategic move rather than a formal request.

Finn watched the red blur disappear down the road and shook his head with mild disappointment, his attention dragged back from the girl he had been talking to, the conversation unfinished, the opportunity obvious, she was naive and easy to impress.

Max was already moving ahead and Finn knew he had to follow, because Max was the reason things changed for him, the reason he wasn’t getting pushed around anymore, and more than that Max was a good friend, which made the choice simple even if it cost him a moment he would normally chase.

*BRRROOOM*

Max pushed his bike to the limit inside the campus stretch where the road opened just enough for acceleration, the engine responding instantly, speed rising in a controlled burst.

As he approached the main road he rolled off the throttle without hesitation, speed dropping back into legal range, posture shifting from performance riding to street discipline as usual, then he lifted his hand slightly, gesturing Finn to follow before merging forward.

They reached the dealership in no time, Max parking with practiced precision while Finn arrived seconds later, already energized, his mood shifting the moment they stepped inside, the familiar environment putting him at ease as he moved quickly, almost bouncing on his feet while leading Max toward his father’s chamber like he had something important to show.

" Max, Max "

Linn stood up from his seat the moment he saw Max enter, the reaction immediate and genuine, his face brightening in a way reserved for someone he trusted, the relief visible in his posture rather than words, because the change in his son had been impossible to ignore, the tension at home lighter, the constant worry finally loosening its grip, and he knew his wife felt the same relief even if she was not there to see this moment.

Finn used to come home bruised during high school, small injuries explained away at first, then schools changed one after another, four private institutions, different environments but the same outcome, the helplessness building quietly over time.

Linn carrying that weight every day, but after Max entered Finn’s life things shifted, not dramatically, not overnight, but enough for a father to notice, because the bruises stopped, Finn stood straighter, and for the first time in years Linn felt like they could focus on life beyond protecting their son, a relief he knew was shared at home without needing to say it out loud.

Max extended his hand first, but Linn didn’t wait for the formality to finish and stepped forward into a warm handshake, his grip firm, appreciative rather than businesslike, then without wasting time he gestured to his staff through the glass, signaling them toward Max’s bike with a small nod that carried clear instruction.

" Give them your keys. I’ll handle the service and the tires for you — it’s on me. "

Linn said it naturally, smiling like this was already decided, not an offer he expected Max to refuse, and two staff members entered the glass chamber right after, greeting politely before Max handed over the keys, then leaving immediately to move the bike into the service area.

" How did you know I was here for the tires as well? "

Max asked, the question logical rather than surprised, because routine maintenance was obvious, but tire wear meant usage pattern, and Linn answered without pause.

" If someone with your riding control comes in for service this soon, it usually means the bike was pushed hard, and when performance riding increases, tire wear is the first thing that shows. It’s a common pattern. "

Linn smiled as he gestured Max to sit down, the explanation simple, experience speaking more than assumption, while Finn drifted away toward the showroom floor to check a new bike, already distracted, leaving the two of them alone.

Max didn’t mind that at all, he preferred this calm version of Linn, appreciative, open, easier to talk to, because inviting him to dinner required the right tone, and having Finn present would complicate the intent, something Max avoided not out of secrecy but out of respect for the balance between friendship and strategy.