Harem Investment System: Getting Money And Women

Ethan leaned against the doorway, arms crossed, watching as Marty's crew dove into the building's insides like surgeons in an operating room. 

Dust hung in the air, catching the light filtering through the cracked windows, making the scene look surreal.

"Alright, boys, let's start with clearing this mess," Marty barked, pointing to the pile of broken furniture and scattered debris that dominated the main hall.

The team got to work immediately. Two men grabbed a large, splintered desk and began hauling it toward the door while others swept the floor, their brooms kicking up clouds of grime.

Ethan stepped aside as they carried the desk past him, muttering an apology when one of the men almost tripped.

"You're fine, boss," the guy said with a grin. "Just don't stand in the line of fire."

Ethan chuckled nervously and moved to a safer spot, feeling like an awkward guest at his own party.

The first hour was nothing but noise. The rhythmic scrape of shovels, the clatter of debris being tossed into dumpsters, and the occasional shout from Marty as he directed his team.

"Careful with that beam! It's load-bearing, you idiots!"

Ethan wandered around, trying to stay out of their way while keeping an eye on the progress. He'd never seen a renovation team in action before, and it was both impressive and chaotic.

One guy was prying nails out of the walls with a crowbar, muttering curses under his breath every time one refused to budge. 

Another was up on a ladder, hammering away at a loose panel on the ceiling.

As the crew worked, the true state of the building revealed itself. The floors were warped in some places, the walls were riddled with cracks, and there was a faint smell of something Ethan didn't want to identify.

"Hey, Marty," Ethan called out, stepping over a pile of rubble. "How bad do you think it really is?"

Marty, who was supervising a team clearing out a back room, glanced over his shoulder. "Bad, but not hopeless. The structure's solid, and that's what matters. Everything else is just a matter of time and money."

Ethan nodded, though the mention of money made his stomach tighten. He had the system's backing, sure, but the costs were starting to pile up in his head.

By mid-morning, the main hall was starting to look less like a disaster zone and more like an empty, albeit filthy, room. 

The crew had cleared out most of the large debris and was now focusing on the smaller stuff — nails, shards of glass, and crumbling plaster.

One of the workers, a lanky guy with a tattoo snaking up his arm, walked past Ethan carrying a bucket filled with broken tiles.

"Nice place you got here," the guy said with a grin.

Ethan raised an eyebrow. "You're kidding, right?"

The guy laughed. "Hey, I've seen worse. At least this one's got character."

Ethan couldn't help but smile. "Character, huh? That's one way to put it."

Around noon, Marty called for a break. The crew filed out of the building, leaving behind a trail of dust-covered footprints. 

Ethan joined them outside, leaning against the hood of Marty's truck as the workers cracked open water bottles and munched on sandwiches.

"Not bad for a morning's work," Marty said, handing Ethan a bottle of water.

Ethan took it gratefully. "Feels like a lot more than just a morning."

Marty laughed. "That's how it goes. Renovations are a grind, but it's worth it in the end. You've just gotta stick with it."

Ethan nodded, taking a sip of water. He wasn't sure if he had the patience for a long grind, but he didn't have much choice.

After the break, the crew moved on to the upstairs rooms. Ethan followed them, curious to see what kind of shape they were in.

The stairs creaked ominously underfoot, and Ethan made a mental note to have them reinforced. The second floor was even worse than the first — peeling wallpaper, broken light fixtures, and a carpet that looked like it hadn't been vacuumed since the '80s.

"Jesus," one of the workers muttered, poking at a water-stained ceiling tile with a broom handle.

"Yeah, this'll need some serious work," Marty said, his tone almost casual.

Ethan just sighed. He wasn't sure why he'd expected anything different.

As the afternoon wore on, the crew made steady progress. 

They ripped out the old carpet, patched up some of the larger cracks in the walls, and removed the broken light fixtures.

Ethan helped where he could, mostly by carrying buckets of debris down to the dumpsters. It wasn't glamorous work, but it felt good to be doing something.

At one point, Marty pulled him aside. "You don't have to get your hands dirty, you know. That's what we're here for."

"I know," Ethan said, wiping sweat from his forehead. "But it's my building. Feels wrong not to pitch in."

Marty nodded, a hint of respect in his eyes. "Fair enough."

By the time the sun started to dip below the horizon, the building was far from perfect, but it was no longer uninhabitable. 

The floors were clear, the walls were patched up enough to stop any immediate damage, and the air smelled less like mildew and more like sawdust.

Marty and his crew gathered in the main hall, their faces streaked with dirt and sweat.

"Not bad for a day's work," Marty said, clapping his hands together.

The crew let out a collective cheer, clearly proud of their efforts. Ethan smiled, feeling a flicker of hope for the first time in a long while.

As the workers packed up their tools and loaded them into the trucks, Marty approached Ethan.

"We'll be back tomorrow to keep at it," he said. "Shouldn't take more than a couple of weeks to get this place in decent shape."

"Thanks, Marty," Ethan said, shaking his hand. "I really appreciate it."

Marty gave him a toothy grin. "Hey, you're paying us, remember? But seriously, this place has potential. Once we're done, you'll barely recognize it."

Ethan nodded, watching as the trucks pulled away, leaving him alone in front of his building. He took a deep breath, the crisp evening air filling his lungs.

It wasn't perfect. It wasn't even close. But it was progress. And for now, that was enough.