Bitcoin Billionaire: I Regressed to Invest in the First Bitcoin!-Chapter 111: Shooting in Shooters

It's not like it was completely unnatural or unbelievable to see Penelope in such a place, but she was just... She wasn't the kind of girl Darren felt comfortable with in a place like this.

First of all, she was only nineteen, and she was too innocent! She had all her life ahead of her, and, even worse, this was one of the restaurants that drove her father's out of business.

What was she doing here?

She was still standing before him, her smile big and beautiful, her ponytail bouncing slightly as she shifted her weight, the tight "Shooters" shirt and red shorts clinging to her nineteen-year-old frame in a way that made Darren's jaw tighten.

She was all youthful energy, her blue eyes bright despite the dim lighting, and Darren just couldn't stand the idea of all of it being tarnished in this depraved place.

"You work here now?" he asked her.

Penelope shrugged, tucking a stray lock behind her ear, her demeanor softening as she spoke. "Yes... mostly. College tuition is a beast so I'm trying to get money anyway I can. Dad's place… well, we had to close. So I'm here weekends and free days, making cash for school."

Her tone was light, but there was a strain there, a crack in the facade. She could sense that Darren felt disappointed, even though they barely knew each other..

"It's not so bad," she explained herself desperately. "Pays the bills. And the tip is great."

Darren's gaze lingered on her outfit, the skimpy getup a stark contrast to the conservative apron she'd worn at her father's place.

It gnawed at him. Sure, it was her choice, but this place reeked of exploitation, and the thought of her body being ogled for tips twisted something protective in his gut.

"They make you wear that all the time?" he asked, his tone low, probing but gentle.

Penelope's cheeks flushed, and she glanced down at herself, suddenly shy. "Yeah, I know how it looks," she admitted, her voice quieter now. "But it's fine. I'm safe here. The guys are… respectable."

As if on cue, a loud smack split the air. A burly man in a plaid shirt slapped the ass of another waitress weaving through the crowd, her tray wobbling as she yelped.

Darren's eyes narrowed, disgust curling his lip.

Penelope caught his look and forced a smile. "Most of the time," she added weakly. She straightened up, brushing it off. "Anyway, what can I get you?"

Darren took a seat by a free table, shaking off the unease. "A great burger," he said, settling deeper into the booth.

'Been a while since I had a good one. System's had me on a brutal workout grind—today's cheat day, and I'm cashing in.'

Penelope grinned. "Alright, coming right up."

She jotted his order down and darted off toward the kitchen.

As she left, Darren's gaze followed her, only to catch the manager — a wiry guy with a slicked-back ponytail and a perpetual sneer — barking at her over some minor slip-up.

His tone was sharp, cutting, and Penelope shrank slightly under it. Darren grimaced, his fingers tightening around the edge of the table.

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'Shooters,' he thought bitterly. One of the places that'd bled Castle Cottage dry.

He leaned back, piecing it together.

Shooters was one of those wealthy chains Penelope had mentioned, the kind that crushed smaller joints with ruthless precision.

Darren knew exactly how business like this did it.

They'd slashed prices to unsustainable lows, soaking up losses just to starve out the competition.

They would also lock in exclusive supplier deals, jacking up costs for places like Castle Cottage until they couldn't breathe.

And if that wasn't enough, the indirect hits piled on— rising rents, shifting tastes, a flood of ads drowning out the little guy.

They'd driven her family's medieval charm of a restaurant — a restaurant that actually had culture and style — into the dirt, and to make it worse, they poached the owner's daughter because she had nowhere else to turn.

It was a slick, brutal game, and Darren hated how it played out.

His thoughts shifted as he summoned the system's interface.

The lavender interface appeared before him.

-----------------

┏Monthly Quests: Seeing is Believing—2/3 complete.┛

┏1• Apple Stocks: $500 million projected profit┛

┏2• Housing: $1.2 billion project profit┛

┏3• None (Suggestion: Castle Cottage Rebuild)┛

-----------------

Funny, because that was exactly the investment he was considering.

There was one solid investment left, and the month was ticking down.

Darren thought about it, seeing the image of that 'business closed' sign on Castle Cottage's shuttered gate in his mind.

'I might actually be investing in the restaurant after all,' he mused, already forming an investment plan.

Just then, Penelope returned, sliding a steaming burger onto the table — juicy, stacked with crispy bacon, the bun golden and glistening.

"Enjoy," she said with a wink before slipping away. Darren dug in, the first bite a glorious rebellion against his regimen, rich and messy in all the right ways.

He could tell Penelope took her time to make it specially for him.

As he ate greedily, his eyes caught something. It was Penelope, and she was cornered near the bar by a hulking customer with a buzzcut and a leer.

Darren stopped chewing.

The man had grabbed her arm, yanking her toward him as she squirmed. Even though the manager was clearly seeing this happen, he did nothing, pretending to be oblivious.

Darren's burger hit the plate with a soft thud. He was on his feet in seconds, striding over with a predator's calm, his broad frame cutting through the crowd.

"Come on, just one date, eh?!" the burly man said to Penelope. "A beautiful girl like you needs a strong man like me to take care of her don't you— eh... Ahhh!"

Darren clamped a hand around the guy's wrist, squeezing hard enough to make the man yelp and release Penelope.

"You're not very strong at all," Darren whispered, voice like steel.

The guy spun, fists up, but Darren ducked the sloppy swing and drove a fist into his gut— a clean, powerful strike that doubled him over with a wheeze.

The manager finally stirred, stomping over, his ponytail swinging. "What's going on here! Get out, now!" he snapped, jabbing a finger at Darren.

Darren straightened, towering over him, his dark eyes glinting with cold fury. "You run a shithole," he said, voice low and lethal. "Next time I see you let some prick manhandle your staff, I'll burn this place to the ground myself." He turned to Penelope, softening as he took her hand. "I'm leaving— and she's coming with me."

Penelope almost gasped in surprise as she looked up at Darren, her body shrinking behind his.

The manager's face twisted, venom in his glare. "Penelope, you walk out that door, don't ever come back, you hear me! Think wise, girl."

Penelope hesitated, her breath shaky, but Darren looked down at her, and his gaze was so sure and protecting, so confident.

Penelope swallowed. Her resolve hardened, and she nodded. "I'm leaving," she declared, her voice trembling even though it was resolute.

The customer cursed, clenching his fist as Darren stomped out of the restaurant with Penelope, dropping a note on the table, but not forgetting to take his burger with him.