Lex did not lament for long, and instead looked into the Token shop further. Even if he couldn't afford tokens anytime soon, that did not mean he could not look at them.
As it turned out, probably due to his lacking authority, the only tokens Lex could currently see were the ones he already had: the lockdown token, service upgrade token and the 0.5 star increase token.
Their functions were pretty self explanatory. The lockdown token put the Inn into a temporary lockdown, preventing anyone from entering the Inn using golden keys or doors. The lockdown would last as long as Lex wanted, but during the lockdown he could not make exceptions to allow certain people in or not.
The service upgrade token upgraded and enhanced any service that the Inn offered and was given by the system, regardless of his authority. For example, Lex had already upgraded all his services to the maximum amount his authority would allow. But, using this token, he could upgrade one of them further. But, it was not just an upgrade, it further enhanced the service as well. How exactly it would be enhanced Lex did not know, but it did not sound bad.
The 0.5 Star increase token was the easiest to understand. It raised the star rating of the Inn by 0.5, a process Lex had experienced before. As if the increase in star rating wasn't excellent enough, the process for that increase also often allowed anyone present at the Inn to raise their cultivation or experience breakthroughs. The last couple of times this happened Lex could not schedule it, but now with the token, Lex could decide when to use it.
He could also turn it into an event, to gain more money. Yes, his inner capitalist was smiling greedily, but Lex suppressed the thoughts to focus.
The tokens were great, and gave Lex an idea of the kinds of tokens he could expect in the future. Yet the prices were nothing to scoff at. Furthermore, they indicated a change Lex could expect to see in the future.
To be more specific, while Lex had understood the minimum price of each token as 1 trillion MP, the listed price was actually MT! MT stood for Midnight Token, a new form of currency that the Inn would also use.
Lex could exchange 1 trillion MP for 1 MT, and then use it for services that had prices in MT. Lex could also deduce that in the future, if he unlocked some services that were extremely expensive, their cost would be denoted in MT.
This was a very significant matter, as it hinted at the fact that there could be other potential currencies as well when Lex reached higher levels. In a way, it made sense because the stronger a cultivator was, the greater their wealth and spending power would be. He was sure that once he raised the level of his Inn, his services would be upgraded enough to even be effective for immortals, or stronger cultivators. In that case, it would become extremely tedious to quote the high prices in MP.
There was just one thing he was curious about. Based on what he experienced, once a guest made any payment using any single item worth 1 MT or more, the item would be retained instead of giving Lex the equivalent MP or MT. If that was actually the case, Lex would end up suffering a loss for while he was getting very valuable things, his system needed MP not items. It would get in the way of the system operating properly once too much MT was replaced by items instead.
But he didn't know enough for now to guess. Perhaps once he reached a level where such transactions were common, he would unlock something to aid him with this problem.
Once he was done with the Token shop, Lex looked at the other rewards he got, the first of which was… the Commemorative fridge magnet. Even Mary, who had been hovering around his head while he checked the system leaned in to take a look.
To call the magnet impressive would be to lie. Lex could swear that if he didn't know better, if he turned it around, he would see a 'Made in China' written on it. Not that he checked the back just in case, no he was just inspecting the magnet.
The problem wasn't that the magnet was low quality. No, it was smooth to touch with considerable weight and impressive durability, considering that it remained completely unharmed in his hands even though Lex could not control his strength.
The problem was that… it was a miniature figure of Lex striking a rather… corny pose. As a resident of New York, Lex's mind kept jumping to the image of the Lady Liberty magnets that were sold to tourists all over the city. It was just too… too…
Lex sighed and put it away. The magnet literally had no other utility. It was as if the system were making fun of him!
The next reward was the Guest Registry, a reward for having the Inn get recognized by the Henali. It better be good.
Guest Registry
A book that can be signed by all guests who enter the Inn. The Registry automatically evaluates all the achievements the guests have accomplished in their lives so far and then displays the guests' names ranked according to their most momentous achievements. Actual achievements are not listed.
The top 1000 guests can use the Guest Registry as a spatial anchor. The top 100 guests can use it as a spiritual anchor. The top 10 guests can use it as a destiny anchor. Any guest who can retain the top spot can use the registry as a soul anchor for the same duration that they held the top position.
It took a while for Lex to understand the registry's utility, and even then, he didn't understand it completely. More or less, it was a way to rank the most impressive, or rather impactful, guests who had visited the Inn. Lex could not be sure how the book would rank achievements, but he knew that the term was too vague.
A person scrounging up ingredients and cooking a meal could be considered an achievement based on his wealth or circumstances, while being elected president of a country was also an achievement. Clearly, one of those was more impressive than the other, but the point was evident. 'Achievements' was too vague a term. Heck, even genocidal maniacs could consider their work as 'achievements.
Moreover, the Inn did not provide any detail or clarity on what the purpose of these 'anchors' were. Lex could venture a few guesses, but there was a more practical way of finding out. Lex summoned the registry and a large, hardback book with beautiful gold illustrations on it appeared in front of Lex. It was thick, predictably, and the pages produced a satisfying and smooth creasing sound as Lex looked through them.
Only taking a brief moment to appreciate the book, Lex quickly turned to the matter at hand and signed his name: Lex Williams.
For a moment, nothing happened. He almost thought that the book wouldn't work on him for some reason, but then the name disappeared, and the book automatically flipped to a new page where Lex's name was written in the most beautiful calligraphy he had ever seen. In front of his name was a bold '1'.
The moment Lex laid his eyes on the name, he felt a strange connection develop with the book, and then another, followed by two more. Since currently he was the top name, he qualified for all four of the anchors the book allowed. Yet even as he felt the anchors form, he did not completely understand what all of them did.
The spatial anchor was evident. Lex developed a strange sense for the location of the book, as if he could find it even with his eyes closed. Based on that, he suspected that whoever had that anchor would always be able to find the book, even if they were not in the realm. Lex knew that the system would not allow for such a blatant security flaw, so he suspected that instead of letting those with the anchors locate the Minor realm where the Inn was hidden, it would allow them to travel directly to the Inn without the use of a golden key.
The spiritual anchor was strange. When Lex closed his eyes, he could envision the book, and that provided him with some sort of comfort. Yet that seemed to be it. He was sure there was more to it, but it would be up to him to figure out the details.
The destiny anchor… forget it. Lex couldn't feel anything. He had long known that matters relating to destiny were far outside his purview for the moment.
The soul anchor, however, was extremely remarkable. So much so that Lex was tempted to never unveil the book at all, and keep its benefits to himself.
