Ultimate Cash System
Chapter 160: America.

Chapter 160: America.

The sun was setting on Tokyo as Lukas stepped out of the hotel lobby. The doorman bowed deeply, and waiting at the curbside was a long black 1999 Lincoln Town Car limousine, its polished body shining under the streetlights. The vehicle had been arranged by Henry’s people, along with a modest escort—two unmarked sedans ahead and behind, with plainclothes security sitting inside.

The driver, wearing a black cap and gloves, opened the door for him. Lukas stepped in, the leather interior creaking softly beneath him as he settled into the back seat. The soft hum of the engine and the low ambient light inside gave everything a calm air. On the seat next to him was a faxed envelope from Henry containing the documents for his chartered flight—details of his $125,000 flight arranged through a private aviation service based out of Narita. The destination was New York, direct and uninterrupted.

He opened the envelope and glanced at the flight manifest and itinerary. The plane, a Gulfstream IV, was one of the best available in the year 2000. It had two pilots, a dedicated stewardess, and a small crew for ground support. Lukas noticed a handwritten note from Henry as well:

"Enjoy the sky, boss. I even made sure your crew looks good."

The limo rolled through the heart of Tokyo. Lukas looked out the tinted window, watching the blur of city lights, the crowds moving across the pedestrian crossings, and the blinking advertisements. The city had grown on him, but he was ready to move to the next stage.

At Narita Airport’s private terminal, the Town Car pulled up directly in front of the security gate. A ground staff officer recognized the limo and quickly waved them through. The guards stepped out first, checking the area before Lukas exited.

The terminal wasn’t crowded. Instead, it was quiet and exclusive. A wide marble floor stretched ahead, gleaming under soft halogen lights. A red carpet was rolled out leading toward the boarding stairs of the aircraft.

Two air hostesses stood near the aircraft, dressed in stylish uniforms with classic 2000s cuts—sky-blue skirts, white gloves, and tidy caps. One of them, holding a clipboard, stepped forward.

"Mr. Lukas, welcome. Your aircraft is prepped and ready. May we escort you aboard?"

Lukas nodded casually, walking up the red carpet. He had seen many things over the past weeks, but this moment, this silence before flight, gave him a sense of what was next. The hostess opened the cabin door, and he stepped inside.

The Gulfstream’s interior was wood-paneled and warm, fitted with cream leather seats and golden fixtures. Lukas tossed his coat onto the opposite seat, reclined, and let out a slow breath.

Tokyo had given him a taste of fame, power, culture, and play. Now it was time to take that energy to America—his next stage.

Outside, the final call was made over the intercom. The hatch closed, the stairs pulled back, and the jet engines began to warm with a low thunder.

Lukas leaned back, eyes half-closed, whispering to himself.

"Back to work."

The Gulfstream IV glided down toward Philadelphia International Airport just as dawn broke over the city skyline. The sky, painted in gentle shades of orange and pink, welcomed Lukas back to the States. The descent was smooth, and the aircraft taxied to a private hangar where a black Lincoln Town Car limousine stood ready.

Two men in black suits opened the aircraft door. Lukas descended the stairs, wearing his wool coat and sunglasses even in the early light. A fresh chill welcomed him as he stepped onto American soil again. The limo door was already held open by a uniformed chauffeur. Lukas got in and leaned back, breathing in the familiar air of a country he hadn’t seen in weeks.

"Four Seasons, Philadelphia," he said calmly.

The chauffeur nodded and drove off, exiting the private terminal smoothly. Lukas looked out the tinted window, catching glimpses of the awakening city. The streets were wet from overnight snow, but the sky was clear, and people in coats were rushing about their early morning routines.

It took about 25 minutes to reach the hotel. The Four Seasons stood tall and majestic, its marble entrance glistening under the morning sun. A bellhop opened Lukas’s door as soon as the limo came to a stop. Without needing much fuss, Lukas handed over a crisp bill and walked into the hotel.

The check-in was swift—his suite had already been booked by Henry ahead of time. A corner penthouse on the uppermost floor, with a skyline view of the city, awaited him. Once inside, Lukas dropped his coat on the couch, walked over to the floor-to-ceiling window, and looked out silently.

He wasn’t tired, but he needed a moment. He turned on the TV, letting the low volume fill the background while he washed his face and changed into something more comfortable. There was no plan for today. Just sleep, maybe a steak later, and mentally prepare for the empire he was about to build.

Lukas poured himself a glass of sparkling water from the minibar and sat down at the window-side table. Outside, Philadelphia carried on with its weekday bustle. Inside, Lukas was calm, quiet, and ready.

Tomorrow, the real work would begin.

The next morning, Lukas woke up in the luxurious comfort of the Four Seasons Philadelphia. The suite was nothing short of perfection—classic American elegance, gold-trimmed fixtures, rich wood furniture, and a wide window view of Logan Square below. He’d slept well, the bed softer than clouds, and the city was just beginning to stir outside.

After taking a long, hot shower and putting on a casual but sharp outfit—a navy turtleneck with a beige coat and leather boots—he headed down to the lobby like any other guest. He wanted to take a walk, grab a cup of local roast, and enjoy the city before starting business.

But as soon as he stepped outside the rotating doors of the hotel, he realized something he had completely forgotten—he was a celebrity now.

It started with a single gasp. Then a tap on the shoulder. Then a burst of phones raised in the air.

"That’s Lukas!" someone shouted. "Yo! Phillies Lukas!"

Within seconds, he was surrounded. People had seen the clips from his baseball appearance—that blazing 125 mph fastball and the record-breaking strikeout performance. Word had spread fast.

Lukas smiled politely, a little taken aback. He hadn’t expected this kind of attention, at least not on a casual stroll. But he didn’t panic. He was composed, calm. He took photos with a dozen fans, signed everything from caps to flyers, and even a baby onesie someone had brought.

"Are you pitching again next season?" someone asked eagerly.

"We’ll see," Lukas said with a practiced smile. "Maybe."

After twenty minutes, he had to duck back into a quiet alley near the hotel to catch his breath. A hotel staffer who had noticed the commotion came to find him.

"Mr. Lukas, do you want us to bring the car around to the back entrance?"

"Yeah," Lukas nodded, pulling his coat a little tighter. "I forgot Philly knows me now."

Soon, a discreet black Lincoln Town Car pulled around, and Lukas slipped in quietly. He looked out the window as the car moved through the streets of the city he’d once thought he could roam through without recognition.

"Alright, Philadelphia," he said to himself with a smirk. "Let’s see what else you’ve got for me today."

As the car rolled through Center City, Lukas’s phone began to buzz. He checked the screen.

Yahoo.

He smiled and picked up.

"Hey, made it in one piece?" Her voice came through, warm and slightly concerned.

"Yeah, landed fine. Stayed at Four Seasons, though walking out felt like a red carpet moment," Lukas said, chuckling.

"Told you. You’re big now," she teased. "Don’t forget us little people."

"Little? You literally brought me hot bread like a knight last week," Lukas replied. "How’s Tokyo?"

"Colder without you," she said, then quickly added, "But I’m managing." Just make sure you don’t faint signing autographs."

They chatted a bit more, keeping it light. Then the call ended with a "Stay safe" from Yaho.

Just as he was about to pocket his phone, another call buzzed in.

Henry.

Lukas raised an eyebrow and picked up.

"You got in alright?" Henry asked, his voice loud and cheerful as always.

"I did. You didn’t have to arrange the whole celebrity welcome committee, though."

"I didn’t! That was Philly’s doing," Henry laughed. "Anyway, I faxed you the documents from those three companies. They’re in your hotel. All early-stage, just like you wanted. The numbers are solid."

"Good work," Lukas said. "Let’s go over them tomorrow."

"Sure thing. Oh, and one more thing—Leopold wants to talk."

"Of course he does," Lukas muttered, then accepted the incoming call just as it buzzed in.

Leopold’s voice came in smooth and direct. "Lukas. How’s America treating you?"

"Pretty well. Got mobbed outside the hotel, so that’s how."

"Good. You need the pressure," Leopold said. "Are you still aiming for that citizenship thing for your friend?"

"Yeah. Yahoo. Ronald should be in touch with her now."

"He is. We’re expediting it. She’ll have clearance soon. Consider it done."

Lukas nodded to himself, feeling the weight of one more thing sliding into place.

"Thanks, old man."

"Don’t thank me yet. Start your classes first. Then we talk real business. I might need you to go to France with your fat friend, whom I just befriended"

The line went dead. Lukas leaned back in the seat, the skyline of Philadelphia glowing faintly beyond the tinted windows.

He smirked again, muttering to himself, "So he also knows about Henry now? Damn!"